"You certainly had a narrow escape!" said Mr. Hamilton, seriously. "Do you think they meant to rob you, Dick?" "What else would they have attacked me for? Of course, it must have been that. But Grit and I were too quick for them." "Could you see their faces?" asked Paul Drew. "No, it was too dark." "Then, you couldn't tell whether or not they were the same men you met before in New York, and who got you on board their yacht?" asked Henry Darby, for the wealthy youth had told of his experience on the _Princess_. "No--I don't believe they were the same fellows," replied Dick, slowly. "They were ordinary highwaymen," but, though he said nothing about it, he was puzzled over a remark one of the men had made while holding him. It was when the footpad said: "We've got him! Where's the rig?" "Rig--that is, horse and carriage," murmured Dick to himself. "I wonder why highwaymen wanted a rig? Unless," he added slowly, "they had an idea of carrying me off. But that's nonsense. Maybe I misunderstood them." But the more he thought about it and puzzled over it, the more it worried him, until he put the matter out of his mind and devoted his time to getting ready for the yachting trip. No further trace was found of the footpads next day, and, though the Hamilton Corners police made inquiries in nearby towns, no suspicious characters were reported as being about. Mr. Hamilton was worried, and considered a scheme of having a private detective guard his son, for he knew that many unscrupulous scoundrels had designs on wealthy lads. But Dick called the plan off. "I'll soon be at sea, dad," he said, "and I guess with Grit on board, and the fellows I'm going to take along we can stand off a small army of hold-up men." "All right," agreed the millionaire, "but I'll feel easier when you are out of sight of land." Dick had a telegram from Captain Barton, saying that the _Albatross_ was only waiting the command to hoist anchor and start, and on the receipt of this the lad decided they would leave for New York the next day, as he had been delayed getting his outfit together, and Henry Darby wanted to close an important transaction in old iron before he went away. As Dick, Frank Bender, Paul Drew and Henry Darby were being driven down to the depot in Dick's auto, to take a train for the metropolis, two lads, standing on a street corner, observed the happy quartette. "There they go," observed Guy Fletcher, a town lad whose father was quite well off. "There they go, and I wish I was going off on a trip like that myself." "Not with Dick Hamilton," added Simon Scardale, who was Guy's crony. The two lads had no friendly feelings toward the young millionaire, and, indeed, Simon had once tried to make Dick lose considerable money. "Dick Hamilton hasn't much use for us, nor we for him, Guy. I wouldn't care if his yacht sunk at sea." "I don't know's I would, either, though I wouldn't want any one to get drowned. But, come on, and I'll shoot you a game of pool."