"Maybe you will some day. And, come to think of it I may not have a steam yacht much longer."
"Why, are you going to sell it?"
"No, but dad's finances are in a bad way, and may become worse."
"You don't mean to say he's lost all his money?" and Paul gave Dick a startled glance.
"Oh, we have enough to keep the wolf from howling under the parlor windows, and I don't expect to have to go to work in Uncle Ezra's woolen mill right away, but dad is involved in some trolley deal, and it's 'crimping' him, as he says. He's got most of his money tied up in it now, and some men, of whom Porter's father is one are trying to get the road away from dad."
"Does Porter know this?"
"He doesn't know it's my father whom his father is fighting, and I'd just as soon he wouldn't. But I've got to do something to help out, and one thing is to locate a Mr. Duncaster," and Dick told of his encounters with the eccentric man, and how he held a large block of stock in the trolley line.
"I'll help if I can," agreed Paul. Then they got their ice cream sodas, and strolled back to the academy.
That night Dick wrote his father a long letter, explaining about the football team, and also detailing his meetings with Mr. Duncaster.