"Honeybee," repeated Dick, much puzzled. "Oh, it must be Larabee. It's my Uncle Ezra!"
Then a look of annoyance came over his face.
"If I go down to see him he'll keep me from the game," he thought. "I haven't any time to spare. He'll lecture me about the waste of time in playing baseball, or the danger of it, or something like that. Or he may want me to show him around the academy. No, he's not likely to do that, for fear he'd wear out his shoes. I wonder what in the world he can want, anyhow? But if I see him now I'll never get a chance to play. I'll not see him."
"Toots," he said, "tell my uncle that I have an important engagement, and ask him to wait until I come back."
"All right, Mr. Hamilton," replied the janitor. "Shall I tell him what it is? Maybe he'd like to see the game," and Toots softly whistled "Just Before the Battle, Mother."
"No! No! Don't tell him!" exclaimed Dick. "He thinks baseball is wicked. Just say—say anything you like except that. I'll come back as soon as the game's over—if I'm alive. He won't mind waiting. It will give him a chance to think."
Which perhaps was not exactly polite on Dick's part. He hurried off, leaving Uncle Ezra in the reception room, wondering what important business his nephew had that kept him so long. And, by not seeing his Uncle Ezra, Dick missed hearing a bit of news that was destined to make a great change in his affairs. But he heard it later, as you will see.
While our hero was on his way to the field, hoping that he would get a chance to play, Uncle Ezra sat in the reception room. He was not very impatient at the delay. As Dick had said, it gave him a chance to think.
Presently the door opened, and Russell Glen looked in the apartment. He was in search of Dutton, having been told the young major was there. Not seeing his friend, he was about to withdraw, with an apology for having disturbed Mr. Larabee.
"Are you one of the students here?" asked Dick's uncle, who was getting rather tired waiting.