guess Henry can manage it if he only has half a chance."
"I wouldn't give you much for that note," said Mr. Hamilton.
"You'll not discount it; eh, dad?"
"Not much! It's worse than ever since Hank put his signature on it. I guess your two hundred and fifty dollars are gone."
"Never mind, I helped Henry, anyhow. Maybe he'll pull through. He's a hard worker."
"Gentleman to see you, sir," interrupted McIverson, putting his head into the office. "Says he has an appointment with you."
"What is the name?" asked Mr. Hamilton.
"Mr. Franklin Vanderhoof," announced the messenger, with a rolling tone that denoted the person to be of apparent importance.
"Oh, yes. I'd forgotten. I'll see him at once. Dick, will you excuse me. I have some business to discuss with Mr. Vanderhoof."
As Dick bade his father good-bye and left the office he saw entering it a man, well dressed, and with a very black moustache. At the sight of the man's face Dick started.
"Where have I seen him before?" the youth asked himself. "There is something strange about that man. I wish I knew what his business was."
