"Is he going to take you to Europe this vacation?" asked Paul.
"Europe! You don't mean to tell me that Mortimer Hamilton is going to waste money on another trip to Europe?" cried Mr. Larabee, in horror.
"No, it isn't that," answered Dick. "He writes that as he sees by my reports I have done well this term, I may have just what I've been wanting a long time."
"To go into some business, I hope," said Mr. Larabee. "That would be a sensible present, and I could offer you a place in my woolen mill at a salary of——"
"No, thank you, Uncle Ezra," laughed Dick. "I think I'll stay here at Kentfield for another term yet."
"But what is it your father is going to give you?" asked Paul. "Don't keep us in suspense."
"It's a touring car!" cried Dick, in delight. "He says I can select the best and biggest car made, and send the bill to him. Hurray! Isn't that great news? Say, I can just about see where my vacation is coming in now, Paul."
"That's right. You are in luck!"
"A touring car!" cried Mr. Larabee. "You mean an automobile, Dick? Why you've got one already. It would be a shameful waste of money to buy another. You can take what a touring car would cost, and invest the sum in some good securities. I have some that I acquired from that young man I spoke of to-day."
"I haven't a touring car," said Dick. "I have that little runabout; but it isn't much use. A touring car for mine!"