with many books, Dick retired to bed, Mr. Hamilton soon following.
Dick's room was over an extension to the main part of the house, and was fitted up like the "den" of any other lad, whether he has a million dollars to his credit, or only one. There were various trophies, some swords and guns, Indian relics, odds and ends of no earthly use to any one but a boy, and a few pictures. Yet, everything in it meant something to Dick, and, after all, that is the real way to decorate a "den."
Mr. Larabee, the next day, completed his preparations for returning to The Firs, and Dick began to pack for his trip to New York. He offered to drive his uncle to the railroad station in his auto runabout, but Mr. Larabee did not trust autos.
"Besides," he added, "you might run over somebody, and then they'd bring a suit for damages, and I'd be liable for part of it, on account of being in the car with you. No, I'll walk and save the street-car fare."
"I'll take all responsibility for the damage," promised Dick, but his uncle would not agree to an auto trip, and walked.
As Mr. Larabee said good-by to his brother-in-law and nephew, he murmured to himself:
"I certainly must put my plan into operation. That boy Richard has absolutely no idea of the value of money. I must save him from himself and his father. I certainly must."
