Dick Hamilton's Fortune Part 21

A week later a big white tent was erected on the s.p.a.cious lawn at the Hamilton mansion. d.i.c.k had spent a busy seven days in making the arrangements, and every boy and girl in Hamilton Corners, whom d.i.c.k had the least acquaintance with, was invited.

Seldom had there been so much excitement in the town, not even when the circus came, for on this occasion the girls, at least, could "dress up,"

and we all know what that means to a girl. Nor were the boys behindhand in looking over their best suits and putting an extra s.h.i.+ne on their shoes.

The big tent was gay with Chinese lanterns, and a corps of white-suited waiters were in attendance to dispense the good things when, as darkness began to gather, the young people of the town began to a.s.semble at the party. They came from all directions, some of them awkward and shy, for it was their first big affair, while others were more self-possessed.

"Well, are you ready?" asked Simon Scardale, as he called at Guy Fletcher's house, for both had been invited to the gathering.

"Yes, but I don't care much about going. We'll have a slow time."

"Maybe we will, but I've got a little thing I want to plan out, and I can do it there, I think. The fact is, I need money badly, and I've got to get some."

"I hope you're not going to rob the house," remarked Guy, with a nervous laugh.

"Of course not, but I've got a scheme that may work. Come along."

CHAPTER XV

THE CONSPIRACY

d.i.c.k stood at the entrance to the tent receiving his guests. He was a little pale from his recent experience, but otherwise did not seem to have suffered any ill effects.

"Well, Bricktop," he called heartily, as the sandy-haired youth approached, his face almost the color of his locks, "I was afraid you wouldn't come. If it hadn't been for Bricktop there wouldn't have been any party here to-night," he went on, turning to a group of young people. "No, nor any d.i.c.k Hamilton, either. He pulled me out in the nick of time."

"Oh, pshaw! I didn't do anything," protested Bricktop, who hated praise.

"I think he was perfectly splendid!" exclaimed Mabel Ford, looking at Bricktop with her big blue eyes in a way that made that modest hero blush more fiercely than before.

"It was perfectly grand!" declared Bertha Lee, known as "Birdy" among her friends. "How I wish I was a big, strong young man," and she gazed admiringly at Bricktop.

"Why not a strong lady," suggested Simon Scardale, with a grin, as he joined the group.

At his approach several girls moved away, as they did not like him. Guy was close in Simon's wake, and both boys nodded to d.i.c.k.

"Feeling pretty fit now, old chap?" asked Simon.

"Oh, I'm all right," answered d.i.c.k.

"Feel like having a game of billiards?" went on Simon. "I'll bet you ten dollars I can beat you on your own table."

"No, thank you," replied d.i.c.k, with a laugh. "I'm too busy looking after my guests to-night. Besides, I don't play for money. Come over some other time and I'll play you all you like, for fun."

"Stingy beast," muttered Simon, as d.i.c.k moved away to greet some newcomers, "and I need the money, too."

"Maybe you'd lose," suggested Guy.

"I don't play to lose," replied Simon, with an ugly leer.

The little feeling of strangeness which many of the boys and girls at first experienced gradually wore off, and soon the party was in full swing. All sorts of games were played, and d.i.c.k and his closest chums saw to it that there was no lack of liveliness. A number of the fathers and mothers of the younger children had accompanied them, and to these older folks d.i.c.k was attentive, seeing that they had seats, and sending the waiters to them to ask if they wouldn't have a cup of coffee or some ices before supper was served.

"Say," observed one man to his wife, after d.i.c.k had found them chairs, "you'd never know he was a millionaire, would you?"

"Why not?"

"Why, because he's just like other boys--he's like one of our own folks."

"Of course he is," answered his wife. "It's only the wrong kind of people that money makes any difference to. d.i.c.k Hamilton can't help being nice. His money hasn't spoiled him," which view was shared by more than one that night.

And such a supper as there was! Long years afterward some of the boys and girls, who were quite small when they attended d.i.c.k's party, used to tell of it as though it was a visit to fairyland. d.i.c.k fairly outdone himself in seeing that everyone had a good time, and from the faces around the long tables, set within the tent, it was evident that the way to young people's hearts, or, at least, to their good spirits, is through their stomachs.

d.i.c.k walked about, like a perfect host, seeing that everyone was served, before sitting down himself. At his heels followed Grit, who was unhappy when away from his master.

"Oh, what a perfect darling of a dog!" exclaimed Birdy Lee, as she stopped over to pat Grit, which indignity he suffered in disdainful silence.

"Isn't he sweet!" chorused several other girls.

"Well, he's no beauty, judged by young ladies' standards," said d.i.c.k, with a gallant look at his girl friends. "But beauty in a bulldog is more than skin deep," he added. "Grit is pure gold when it comes to being a friend."

"What makes his two teeth stick up that way? Don't they hurt his lip?"

asked Alice.

"I never heard him complain," replied d.i.c.k. "But I'd better move along, I guess. Grit is getting hungry, and I don't want him to begin on any of the waiters. He doesn't take to colored men very well. One of them started to run when Grit growled at him a while ago as the man was bringing in a roast chicken."

After supper there were more games, and the fun increased as the hours pa.s.sed. d.i.c.k was congratulated on every side, not only for the success of his party, but on his speedy recovery from the boat accident.

As the millionaire's son was crossing the tent, with Grit following at his heels, he met Guy and Simon, who had been together all the evening, and who had not mingled much with the other guests.

"h.e.l.lo, Grit, old boy!" exclaimed Simon, but the dog must have detected the insincerity in the youth's tones, for he uttered a low growl and showed his strong teeth.

"Oh, I'm not going to hurt you," sneered Simon.

"No, I don't think it would be exactly healthy," remarked d.i.c.k.

"Is he a very valuable dog?" Simon went on, paying no further attention to Grit.

"Well, he's rated at a thousand dollars in the records of the Kennel Club," answered d.i.c.k. "I don't know that any dog is worth so much from a financial standpoint, but I know I wouldn't sell him for that; would I, Grit?" and the bulldog almost wagged his stump of a tail off in delight at d.i.c.k's caressing words.

"Humph! I'd look at a thousand dollars a good while before I'd give it for a dog," cried Simon.

"You don't know Grit," was d.i.c.k's quiet answer, as he turned away.

"Come on, Guy," said Simon, a little later. "I'm going to clear out of here."

"What for? Let's have some more ice-cream. It's bully."