"Maybe he's going to reduce your allowance," suggested Henry, with a laugh. "No, I can't imagine what it is," and Dick spoke soberly "But that it's important I know by the way he acted. Otherwise I'd lend you my horse to pull that load back with. I'll tell you what I'll do, however. As soon as I get home I'll send one of the grooms out here with one of the work horses. They'll think that load is a feather. But now I am in a hurry, so I must gallop on. It won't do to keep dad waiting, especially when he laid so much stress on my being home on time." "Oh, don't trouble about a horse. I guess I can get this--this animal to go after a while," and Henry laughed; for he was of a happy disposition, and trouble rolled away from him "like water off a duck's back," as he used to say. "But it's no trouble at all," insisted Dick. "You wait here and I'll send a man back with a horse. You can drive him home to-morrow, or to-night, if you like." "All right. It's very kind of you," said Henry, but Dick did not stay to listen to the thanks before he had called to Rex, under whose flying feet the dust of the road arose in a cloud. "He must be in a hurry to ride like that," thought Henry, as he tried to lead on his apology for a horse. "I wonder what it is that his father is going to tell him? It must be about money I guess, for Mr. Hamilton has so much he doesn't know what to do with all of it." Dick was also wondering, as he galloped along, what the important matter might be that his parent was to speak to him about. He only had a hint of it in what Mr. Hamilton had said that morning. "This is your birthday," Dick's father had remarked, when he and his son were at breakfast in the Hamilton mansion. "I wish you many happy returns, and I will add that I have something very important to say to you this afternoon--something that may have a great influence on your future life. I will meet you here in the library at three o'clock, and communicate to you certain portions of your dear mother's will." For a moment emotion had overcame Mr. Hamilton, for his wife, of whom he had been devotedly fond, though dead some years, was ever a living memory to him. Dick's eyes filled with tears as he recalled the sweet-faced woman to whom he had lisped "mother," for he was only a small chap when she died. "So, if you will be here on time, Dick," his father finally went on, "I will read to you an important document, in accordance with your mother's final instructions. Now don't be late. I am a busy man, and if I make an appointment for a certain time, I like the other fellow to be there also," and he smiled at his son. "I'll be there, father," promised Dick. So now he was hurrying on to keep his appointment. His home was about two miles from the town of Hamilton Corners, in one of our eastern states, the place having been named in honor of Mr. Hamilton, who, as will be told later, was at the head of many industries that gave the town its importance.