Dick would have been glad to take all his boy friends of Hamilton Corners with him to New York, but the capacity of the automobile was limited to seven; so, besides Dick, Simon and Guy, there went along "Bricktop," Frank Bender and Walter Mead. Early on the appointed morning the big touring car, in charge of a skillful driver, drew up in front of Dick's house, where the boys had assembled. "Get in!" called Dick, from the window of his room. "I'll be right down as soon as I can get my valise shut. I've got to say good-bye to Grit. Poor fellow, he knows something's in the wind and he's trying to break his chain to come along. But I'm afraid something will happen to him in New York, so he's got to stay home." "He thinks as much of that dog as if it was a brother," remarked Guy with something of a sneer, as the five youths entered the tonneau, for Dick had elected to ride with the driver. "I don't blame him," said "Bricktop." "Grit's a dog worth having." "I hope Dick brings plenty of money along with him," whispered Simon to Guy, as they followed Frank Bender into the machine. "Why?" asked Guy, also in a whisper. "Because I've got everything all planned for a neat trick. I guess he'll not bring back as much as he takes away. I heard from my friend in New York. He'll meet us at the hotel, and then--well, we'll see what will happen." Dick came running down the steps of the mansion. "Good-bye!" he called to his father. "Yes, I'll be careful--good-bye!" There was a tooting of the automobile horn, a throbbing of the powerful engine, a grinding sound as the gears were thrown into place, and the boys were off on their trip to New York, Dick with his heart full of happiness and anticipation, while Simon and Guy were thinking over the plot they had made to get away from the millionaire's son a little of his wealth. CHAPTER VII A SHARPER FOILED Through Hamilton Corners the big car shot, its progress watched by throngs who had heard of Dick's trip. His conduct was commented on in various ways. "Good land!" exclaimed Hank Darby. "If I had the money that spendthrift will get rid of before he gets back here I could make my fortune. All I need is a little capital and I'd be rich inside of a week. I have a great scheme on." "Ain't goin' t' buy any more soap, be ye, Hank?" asked Porter Heavydale, a little, thin, wisp of a man, who was fully as lazy as Hank, but who made no secret of it. "Guess you had some slip-up there." "Oh, that--that was an accident, such as is liable to happen to any business man," and Hank carefully whittled a stick until there was nothing left of it. "Wa'al, a fool an' his money is soon parted, the proverb says," commented Porter. "Give Dick rope enough an' he'll come t' th' end of it sooner or later." "Dick's no fool," retorted Hank. "But I do hate to see him spend money."