not your fault, Gibbs. I guess I'll have to draw the line about callers a little closer," concluded Dick as he sat down to breakfast.
The summer passed away and fall came. Dick returned to the academy, where he renewed his studies. Several times he was on the point of making another investment, but, as the stock of the milk company went up in value, he felt that this would answer the requirements of his mother's will, and furnish the profit called for. So, though he investigated many schemes that seemed to promise well, he did not take any stock in them.
It was in May of the following spring, when, having looked at a quotation of his milk stock, and found that it was a little higher than it had ever been before, Dick walked down to his father's bank to consult him about certain matters.
He found Mr. Hamilton in his private office, but the millionaire did not have a cheerful smile on his face. Instead he looked troubled.
"What's the matter, dad?" asked Dick.
"Well, I don't like the way the money market looks in New York," was the answer. "I've just heard by telegraph that several large banks have failed."
"Does it involve you?"
"To a certain extent, yes. Things look like a panic, such as we had a few years ago. Still, it may blow over."
"I wonder if it will affect the milk company?"
