Dick spent a miserable evening with his uncle. Mr. Hamilton came home from the bank, whither he had gone after the ride, and greeted his brother-in-law.
"Well, I guess you'll have to take Dick back with you," said the millionaire, with an attempt at cheerfulness.
"I intend to, and when he comes back from living with me he'll be a different lad," said Mr. Larabee, grimly.
"I guess that's true enough," thought Dick.
He dreamed that night that he went to his uncle's house in an airship, and when they got there it turned into a vault in a cemetery and he was made a prisoner in it. He awoke with a start to find his uncle calling to him from the hall outside his door.
"Come, Nephew Richard," said Mr. Larabee. "It's six o'clock, and you'll have to get up early when you're at my house. Might as well begin now."
"Oh, this is a beautiful birthday," said Dick, with a groan, as he began to dress. "Six o'clock! Ugh!"
It was arranged that they were to take an early train to Dankville, and, soon after breakfast, Dick, having packed his suitcase, and arranged to have his trunk forwarded to him at The Firs, went to the library where his father and uncle were waiting for him.
"Well, Dick," remarked Mr. Hamilton, with a little catch in his voice, for he hated to part with his son, though he knew the experience might be good for him. "I guess it's time to say good-bye."
"I suppose so," replied Dick, trying to keep back the tears, which, in spite of all he could do, would come to his eyes.