Dick started to leave the room. At that instant the doorbell rang and Gibbs, answering it, came into the library and announced:
"Mr. Henry Darby and his son, to see Mr. Dick."
"I guess they have come to say good-bye," said the millionaire's son. "Show them in, Gibbs."
"Hank" Darby did not need any "showing." He was in the library as Gibbs turned to go back to the door.
"Excuse this intrusion," he began, "but I am in a hurry. I have a very important scheme on and I must attend to it at once. But my son insisted that we come and tell Mr. Dick what has happened, he being a partner in our enterprise—The International and Consolidated Old Metal Corporation."
"Yes, Dick!" cried Henry, unable to wait for his father to tell the news in his slow, pompous way. "Things are in fine shape. In fact the old metal business can now pay a dividend."
"A dividend?"
"Yes, you remember me telling you about a lot of old scrap-iron and steel dad bought, thinking it had platinum in it?"
"Yes, and it didn't have any in."
"Merely an error in judgment," murmured Mr. Darby. "Any business man, with large schemes on hand, is liable to make them."
"Well, while the metal didn't have any platinum in it, it had a peculiar quality of steel. It is very
