title="[10]"/> came from Bricktop. "You're getting lazier every day, Bill."

"Help yourself," spoke the sleepy youth, as he slumped from the table and stretched out under a tree.

"I guess a trip in the motor boat would suit us all best," observed Dick. "Hannibal 'Rastus, just fill up the gasolene tank, will you?"

"Oh, why wasn't I born rich instead of handsome," murmured Bricktop, who never would have taken a prize in a beauty show. "But my fatal gift of——"

"Cut it out!" cried Walter, throwing a pine cone with such good aim, that it went right into Bricktop's open mouth.

"Oh! Ah! Ug! Blug! Chug! Hum!" spluttered the discomfitted one. "Who threw that?" he demanded, when he could speak.

Nobody answered, and, feeling in no mood to get up and chastise Walter, whose sly grin proclaimed him the culprit, Bricktop stretched out again.

"Hark! That sounds like a wagon coming," observed Fred, as he sat up, after a few minutes of silence.

"Guess it's the ice man," said Dick, for he had arranged to have a supply left at the camp. He believed in having all the comforts possible when he went into the woods.

"Doesn't rumble like an ice wagon," commented Bill.

"Sounds more like a load of steel girders," added Walter.

At this, Dick arose. He peered through the trees toward a seldom-used wagon road, which ran near the camp. He caught sight of something moving.

"It's a wagon, all right," he said, "but it isn't the ice man."

A few moments later a remarkable rig hove into sight. It consisted of a rattle-trap of a wagon, loaded with all sorts of scrap iron, and drawn by a horse that looked as if it had escaped from the bone yard. It just crawled along. On the seat was a bright-faced youth, who was doing his best to excite the animal into a speed a little better than that of a snail. He jerked on the reins, called at the horse, and cracked his whip, but all to no purpose.

"It's no use!" he exclaimed, as he looked through the trees and caught sight of Dick and his chums. "He's got the pip, or something like that."

"Why, hello, Henry," called Dick. "What brings you away off here? There's no scrap around here."

"I thought maybe you boys might have had one or two that you'd sell cheap," said the young dealer in old iron, and there was a twinkle in his eyes.

"They're all too lazy to fight, except me," observed Bricktop, "and I'm too good."

"Stow that!" commanded Fred, making a pass at his chum, who jumped back out of reach.

"Aren't you quite a way from home?" asked Dick, as he went up and shook hands with Henry Darby.

"Yes, I am. But you see I'm driving around the country, collecting old iron. This is my dull season, and I took my oldest rig, and started off day before yesterday. I'm taking it easy—have to you know, on account of my horse's health. His delicate constitution makes it necessary. There doesn't seem to be much old iron about, and I've got this far, without picking up a full load."

"Why don't you give some to your horse. Iron is good for the constitution," said Dick.

"I thought of it, but you see all the iron I have is in long pieces and sticks out all sorts of ways. If my horse swallowed any of it he'd have more fine points than he's got now. So I guess I'll keep him on grain."

"But you haven't told me why you're away off here in the woods," went on Dick. "Is there any iron about here?"

"No, not that I know of. I came to find you."

"To find me?"

"Yes. I have a telegram for you. I happened to stop in the village back there, and while I was making some inquiries in the post-office, which is also the telegraph station, a message came for you. The operator had no one he could send with it, and, as I happened to know where you were camping, I said I'd take it. He gave me a quarter for bringing it out, and so I've made some profit to-day."

"A telegram!" cried Dick. "Why didn't you say so at first? Give it here," and he held out his hand.

"I didn't want to scare you," said Henry. "I was breaking the news gently."

He handed over the yellow envelope. Dick tore it open, and, as he read the short message, he gave a start.

"No bad news I hope," remarked Walter.

"No, I guess not," replied Dick slowly. "But I've got to leave for home at once."

"Leave for home!" cried his chums.

"Yes. This is from dad. It says: 'Dear Dick. Come home as soon as you get this. Important.'"

CHAPTER II

A CHANGE IN PLANS

Following Dick's reading of the telegram there was silence among the campers. They all imagined something had happened to Mr. Hamilton, Dick's father, and they hesitated to give voice to their thoughts.

"Well, I'd offer to take you home in my chariot," said Henry Darby, with a suggestion of a smile, "only I know you'd be two days on the road. Though it might be a good thing," he added "for your father would hear us coming long before he could see us, with the way this old iron rattles. I wish some one would invent noiseless scrap iron."

"Do you—do you s'pose your father is—is hurt?" asked Walter, finally putting into words what all the others thought.

"Not a bit of it," replied Dick, stoutly. "Dad knows me well enough to say right out what he means. He wants me home, for some reason or other, but I don't know what it can be," and he looked at the telegram in a puzzled sort of way, as if the slip of paper would solve the mystery for him.

"Maybe—maybe he's lost all his money," suggested Frank "and you've got to give up the camp."

"No, I guess there's no danger of dad losing all his money so quickly," relied the young millionaire. "He had plenty when I came away, two weeks ago, and he's got so many investments that he couldn't lose it all at once, even if he tried. No, it's something else. I wonder what it is?"

"I s'pose the best way to find out, is to go and ask him, about it," suggested Henry.

"That's it," assented Dick. "I could telegraph, but he might be away from home, and wouldn't get it. I guess I'll have to leave camp, fellows."

"Then we'll go, too," said Bricktop.

"No, there's no need of that. I invited you out for three weeks, and that time isn't up yet. You might as well stay. Hannibal will cook for you, and if I can come back I will. Otherwise you stay here and enjoy yourselves."

"We won't enjoy ourselves very much if you leave," said Walter regretfully, and the others echoed his sentiment.

"Well, that's a compliment to me," declared Dick, with a smile, "but I guess you'll manage to exist. Now I wonder how I'd better go? Henry, I s'pose I could ride with you to the village, and take a train."

"I should advise you to," remarked the young iron merchant. "This nag went to sleep four times coming out, and he's snoring now. No telling what he'll do on the way back. He seems to like life in the woods. I guess he must have been a wild horse once, and he's going back to nature."

"He's not very wild now," observed Bricktop, tickling the animal with a switch. "He won't even move."

"No, it takes quite a while to get him started," said Henry. "Usually I have to begin the day before, to get him into action. No, Dick, I shouldn't advise you to ride with me."

"What's the matter with the motor boat?" asked Frank. "You can go to the village in that."

"That's so," agreed Dick. "You fellows can take me over, and bring her back. We'll do it."

"Well," remarked Henry, as