"Well, are you glad to get back?" asked Mr. Hamilton, as he greeted his son that afternoon.
"Glad, father? Say, give me some of that money, quick! I want to make that paying investment. I never could stand it at The Firs!"
Mr. Hamilton laughed.
"Well, in spite of his queer ways, your Uncle Ezra is a man of sterling character," he said. "He is as true as steel—"
"And just about as hard," interrupted Dick, with a smile.
"But now to business," went on Mr. Hamilton. "I have deposited a large sum to your credit in our bank, and if you will come downtown with me now I'll introduce you to the cashier and see that you get a check book. Then—well, the world is before you, and it's yours—to conquer or be conquered by."
On their way to the bank father and son were greeted by many acquaintances, for Mr. Hamilton was a person of great importance in Hamilton Corners. The town was a good-sized one, situated on the shore of Lake Dunkirk, a large body of water. Mr. Hamilton, besides being president of the Hamilton National Bank, was vice-president of the Hamilton Trust Company, and owned a stone quarry, a brass foundry, large woolen mills, and a lumber concern, all in the town or its immediate vicinity.
He was also a director of the Hamilton, Dor-
