"There, I guess that will make dad get busy," said the lad. "Now I'll wait for further instructions, and devote a little time to planning out what I want to do for the football team. We've got to be champions of the league or I'll know the reason why. What's the good of money if it can't get you what you want?"
"Where to now, sir?" asked the taxi-driver, as Dick got in the machine again. "Like to go around town for a while? Most of the cadets do when they get out."
"Back to the college," ordered Dick a bit curtly, for he did not like the familiar tone of the man.
"Hum, he must be one of those tight-wads," thought the driver, as he threw in his gears and started off. "I like a fellow that spends money."
If he had known how much Dick Hamilton could have spent had our hero been so inclined, the taxi-man might have had a different opinion of him.
The machine was bowling along at a good speed, through the principal street of the town, preparatory to turning off on the road that led to the military academy. It was a cab with the front of glass, and Dick could look out at one side of the driver, and observe what was going on.
Suddenly, as they crossed a side street, an elderly man, with a big, old-fashioned umbrella held low over his head, ran out directly in front of the cab.
"Look out! Stop!" cried Dick, involuntarily jumping up. "You'll run him down!"
The driver was on the alert, however, and jammed on the brakes with a practiced hand, and a quick foot. With a shudder of springs and a shriek of metal the cab came to a stop. Not before, however, it had run into the man with the big umbrella, upsetting him, though so gently that he was not hurt. His rain-shield however, was crumpled up and his legs were entangled in it.
Before the driver could leave his seat, Dick had jumped out and gone to the aid of the pedestrian.