"Once he asked me to step in, but it happened that I was in a hurry to get home. I supposed some time or other he would renew the invitation, but I also remembered that his grandfather was said to be queer, and averse to meeting strangers; so I've thought nothing about it. Well, is there anything more coming, or does that end your adventure?" Thad drew a long breath, and looked sober. "I only wish it did, that's right, Hugh," he continued, mysteriously. "Up to then the whole thing hadn't amounted to a row of beans, so far as giving me a thrill went. But the worst was yet to come." "Go on, and don't stop so often, Thad," urged Hugh. "I believe you do it just to tantalize me. What wonderful secret did you discover there? Is that old house the rendezvous of a nest of counterfeiters, or might it be where they manufacture moonshine whiskey, like those mountaineers do down in Georgia?" "Oh! come, it's nothing like that, Hugh, so don't allow your imagination to carry you away. I did get something of a shock, though, and I guess you'll feel the same way when you learn about it. Well, the old gentleman asked me who I was, and if I knew his grandson Owen, as well as a lot of other questions. Fact is, Hugh, I rather guess he must have taken a violent liking for me right on, the spot, for when I said I must be going two different times, he begged me to stay with him just a little while longer. "I knew I would be too late for the ball practice anyhow, and besides I didn't have on my old suit, because mother had asked me not to wait to change my clothes. So I sat down again each time, and answered some more questions. The old gentleman interested me a whole lot in the bargain, and I soon made up my mind that those silly people who had been hinting that Old Mr. Dugdale might be that notorious Wall Street speculator who had such a bad name, and who'd disappeared several years ago, didn't know what they were talking about. Why, he is a polished gentleman, and a foreigner at that, I tell you, Hugh. "He started talking about his grandson. How his wrinkled face lighted up when I said my chum, Hugh Morgan, had taken a great fancy for Owen, and that I shared in the same feeling. You could see easily enough that Mr. Dugdale believes the sun rises and sets in that boy of his. Nothing would do, finally, but that he should take me to seen the den Owen had fitted up for himself, because there was plenty of room in the big house, and every fellow he knew had some kind of a den in which he could keep his boyish treasures, in the way of foreign postage stamp albums, photos taken by himself connected with outings he had been on, college flags and burgees, and well, just such traps as the average boy liked to see around him when he's out of school, and settling down to read a favorite book.