"Five hundred dollars will do as a starter. But about how much stock would you want?"
"Oh, I guess two thousand dollars' worth will do," replied Dick, with a look at his father, who, by a nod of his head, assented.
Mr. Vanderhoof smiled, looking, Dick thought, more than ever like a cat about to pounce on a mouse, and when the check was made out the promoter handed him a document, showing that he was entitled to a certain number of shares of stock in a gold mine bearing the name Dolphin.
"Well, Dick," remarked his father, when Mr. Vanderhoof had left, "you are certainly getting right into business. How do you like it?"
"Very much. I only hope some of my investments pan out."
"Well, you haven't made very many, but what you have gone into you have loaded up pretty well with. However, that may be a good way. Of course, if they fail, the money loss will not make much difference to you, but I don't want to see you lose. It would show a poor head for business if you did, and I hope you haven't got that."
"So do I," remarked his son. "Oh, I'm going to make a success some way or other," and once more the vision of his uncle's home, the gloomy house set in the midst of the dark fir trees, like some residence in a cemetery, came to him as the memory of a bad dream.
"Where are you going now?" asked his father, as Dick started to leave the private office.
"I thought I'd take a ride with some of the boys in my motor boat. I haven't been out for some time."
"All right, only be careful."