"What's the matter with the land you bought?" asked Mr. Hamilton.
"Oh, that failed," and Dick told the story of the fertilizer factory.
"Well, it's a good lesson to you, my son," was all Mr. Hamilton said by way of reproof. "No, I've no objection to you going to New York. Hire the car you wish, and be sure they supply a good driver. You're not quite capable of managing one of those ponderous machines yet. But be careful. Don't go to buying any gold bricks," and he laughed.
"No danger," replied Dick. "I've cut my eye teeth."
It was arranged that they should start in three days. Dick engaged the largest and finest car in the garage of a neighboring city, and told his friends to get ready.
"Are you going?" asked Guy of Simon, the day before that set for the trip.
"Am I? Well, you can make up your mind to that. I can see something good in this for us."
"Good? What do you mean?"
"Money, of course."
"Don't get the idea that Dick is going to distribute five-dollar gold pieces along the route, Simon."