sat in ecstasy, now and then some of them looking at Dick, who sat in their midst, as though, like some good fairy, they feared he might disappear any minute.
"Well," remarked the manager to Dick in the library of the Hamilton mansion, when the show was over. "You had your circus all right. I guess about four hundred dollars will square us. There were quite a few paid admissions."
"There's your check," answered Dick, passing over a slip of paper, and the manager took his departure.
That night, as the rumble of circus wagons leaving the town came faintly to the ears of Dick and his father, as they sat in the library, Mr. Hamilton remarked:
"Well, did you get your money's worth, Dick?"
"I certainly did, dad. The look on the faces of those orphans was worth twice as much as I spent."
"Still, you might have invested four hundred dollars in some business and gotten large returns from it."
"I invested it in happiness, dad," was Dick's answer.
And then Mr. Hamilton turned away, loving his son more than ever. But still he wondered if Dick would ever be able to fulfil the conditions of his mother's will.
