the depot in the auto, but Mr. Larabee would not hear of it. He would walk, he said, and save the car fare.
"He's a queer man—your uncle," said Mr. Hamilton that night. "I guess you wouldn't fancy staying with him; eh Dick?"
"No, indeed, dad. A military academy for mine, as Bricktop would say."
Dick was up early the next morning, when both he and his father were to go away from home, each for a considerable time. The servants had been provided for, and the handsome Hamilton mansion would be closed for several months. Dick accompanied his father to the bank after breakfast, and planned to go to the depot from there, some of his chums having arranged to meet him at the station.
"Ah, good morning, gentlemen!" exclaimed a pompous voice, as Dick and his father entered the institution, and the young millionaire saw "Hank" Darby, ready to greet them. "I understand you are about to become a soldier," he went on to Dick.
"Well, a sort of one," replied our hero.
"Ah, that's a grand and noble calling. I once thought I would be one of the defenders of my country, but I was called into other lines of activity," said the father of the young proprietor of the scrap iron business. He did not specify what the other lines were. "It is indeed noble to fight for one's flag," went on the shiftless man, "but it
