"Then--then--" began Dick, a light slowly breaking over him, "without intending it, I have made a good, paying investment. A thousand dollars for two hundred and fifty is good, isn't it, dad?" "Fine, I would say," cried Mr. Hamilton, with a smile. "And this is my birthday! The year is just up!" went on Dick. "I--I won't have to go and live with Uncle----" He stopped in some confusion. "Do you mean to tell me that this is a bona-fide investment, Mortimer?" asked Mr. Larabee, turning to his brother-in-law. "Perfectly legal and legitimate," interrupted Mr. Darby. "Here is a copy of the incorporation agreement." "Well," remarked Uncle Ezra, with a disappointed air, "I suppose you have fulfilled the conditions of your mother's will, Nephew Richard. I congratulate you," and he shook hands rather stiffly. "Well, who would have thought it?" gasped Dick, hardly able to believe his good fortune. "I never gave that investment a thought--in fact, I never considered it an investment, Henry." "It was, all the same, and I'm glad I am able to do you a favor, for you did me a mighty good turn. The old metal business is in fine shape, and I have more than I can attend to." "Yes, we must be going, I have a big scheme on hand," put in Mr. Darby. "A very big scheme, there are enormous possibilities in it. _Enormous_, sir!" "If they only come out," said Henry, with a laugh, as he and his father withdrew. "Well, if you are not to come back with me, I suppose I may as well be going," remarked Uncle Ezra, after a pause. "Samanthy will be looking for me. I'll say good-bye." He turned to go, and at that instant an ominous growl came from under the library table. "What's that?" asked Mr. Larabee in alarm. "I--I think it's Grit," replied Dick, trying not to laugh. "That bulldog again!" exclaimed Mr. Larabee. "I hate dogs! I wish----" But what he wished he never said, for Grit, seeming to know that an enemy of his master was present, rushed from under the table, and, with opened mouth, though he probably would not have bitten him, rushed at Uncle Ezra. "Here, Grit!" cried Dick. "Come back here this instant!" But, with a wild yell, Mr. Larabee ran from the room, followed by the dog. Out through the hall and down the steps Dick's uncle ran, the dog growling behind him. But Gibbs captured Grit at the front door and held him. "Grit! Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" asked Dick, trying not to laugh. But Grit growled in a way that seemed to say he was not in the least ashamed. Mr. Larabee hurried off down the street, not once looking back. "Well, that was a narrow escape," murmured Dick. "Eh, dad?" "I suppose so. Still a visit to your uncle's house might have done you good," added the millionaire, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Now, dad," went on Dick, "I suppose that as I have fulfilled all the conditions of the will I may do pretty nearly as I please."