During the next day or two it might have been noticed that Dick Hamilton was rather more quiet than usual. In fact his chums did notice, and comment on it. A number of times they had seen the young millionaire in a brown study, walking off by himself, and again he could be observed strolling about, gazing earnestly up at the clouds and sky.
"Say, I wonder what's come over Dick?" asked Paul of Innis one afternoon.
"Blessed if I know," was the answer, "unless he's fallen in love."
"Get out! He's too sensible. But he sure has something on his mind."
"I agree with you. Well, if he wants to know he'll tell us."
So they let the matter drop for the time being. But Dick's abstraction grew deeper. He wrote a number of letters, and sent some telegrams, and his friends began to wonder if matters at Dick's home were not altogether right.
But the secret, if such it could be called, was solved by the unexpected arrival of Mr. Hamilton at Kentfield. He appeared on the campus after drill one day, and Dick greeted his parent enthusiastically.
"So you got here, after all, Dad?" he cried, as he shook hands, Paul and Innis also coming over to meet the millionaire.
"Well, I felt I just had to come, Dick, after all you wrote and telegraphed me," replied Mr. Hamilton. "I thought we could do better by having a talk than by correspondence. But, I tell you, frankly, I don't approve of what you are going to do."
Dick's chums looked curiously at him.