rather disquieted him. It was from the firm of whom he had purchased his milk stock, and informed him that owing to certain contingencies in the market they were obliged to ask for an assessment on his stock.
"What's an assessment on stock, dad?" he asked of his father, when he had called at the bank and shown the letter to Mr. Hamilton.
"It means that the company needs more money to run the business, and that you, being part of the company, have to put up your share. Let's see, they want a hundred dollars from you. Well, I guess you'll have to pay it."
"But that's a queer way to do business," grumbled Dick. "I thought I was going to make money, and, instead, I have to pay out more."
"Oh, well, new concerns frequently have to call for an assessment, instead of paying dividends," consoled his father. "The stock may pay well yet. Milk is something every family has to have, you know, and they have to have it every day. The company may be all right when it gets well started. I wouldn't worry now. I've had to pay assessments on many a stock that afterward turned out well."
"I'm glad I thought of that gold mine stock," said Dick. "I guess that will be the best thing yet. When will Mr. Vanderhoof be here?"
"Almost any minute now. Ah, there he comes," and, as Mr. Hamilton spoke, the man with the very black moustache came down the