“I shrink from the task.” Just before sunset the young men strolled over Pine Hill. Eugene pointed out the spot on which he purposed to build his mansion. Dick approved it, and an aquatic excursion for the next day was planned before they returned. CHAPTER IV. OFF THE GREAT BELL. We should delight to linger with our readers around the pleasant and happy home of the Hungerfords; but scenes more exciting than the quiet of domestic life lie before us, and we must hasten to them. After breakfast Eugene and Dick, on their way to the boat, stopped at the Poppleton Bank, in the Port, to leave the drafts, which were payable in Boston, for collection. Eugene did the President, who happened to be there, the honor to inform him that he should make the bank the place of deposit for his funds, and desired the fifty thousand dollars to be placed to his credit. This was his first actual transaction as a moneyed man, and what had before seemed to be a vision was now an undoubted reality. His income was fifteen thousand dollars a month, or five hundred dollars a day, and he began to be conscious of the painful necessity of spending some of it before the Poppleton Bank should be overwhelmed by the surplus. At present he was going out in his boat, and could not afford the time to consider the matter in detail; but he hoped, before many weeks elapsed, to make his money fly with tolerable rapidity. He had schemes enough in his head, but only time and thought could reduce them to practice. “Upon my soul, Hungerford, I am afraid of you,” said Dick, as they left the bank. “What do you mean?” “Why, all this money! My dear fellow, you are almost as badly off as John Jacob Astor and Stephen Girard were!” “Stop till we get into the boat before you begin. Let me tell you what I am going to do.” They reached the wharf at the foot of the main street, where the boat was moored. As we are not writing a nautical romance, we will not trouble the reader with a description of the boat, though she was a fine little craft. Both Eugene and Richard were somewhat “salt” in their tendencies, and were familiar with the science of boating. The breeze was fresh, and after running by the point of The Little Bell, the boat went “wing and wing” down the river. “Now, Hungerford, what are you going to do?” asked Dick, as he settled himself back in a comfortable position on the cushioned seat in the standing-room. “My ideas are rather crude, so far,” replied Eugene. “You are going to get married, in the first place, or you are sure to lose the three millions,” added Dick, to whom all the provisions of John Hungerford’s will had been detailed on the preceding evening. “Perhaps not, Dick; I don’t know yet;” and Eugene thought of Mary Kingman. “You don’t know!” “I do not.” “Come, come, Hungerford; don’t play off in that manner with me. Of course you intend to marry as soon as the thing can be decently done.”