The two walked apart from the boys, going down the sidewalk together slowly.  But the youngsters heard Hibbert say earnestly: 

“I tell you, Colquitt, that is the boy.  He has the ear and all.  And he’ll be in luck with the money he’ll have!”

“And I tell you, Mr. Hibbert, that he isn’t the boy at all,” retorted Colquitt, with even greater positiveness.

More was said, but the two passed out of hearing.

“Greg,” declared Tom Reade solemnly, “it appears that you’re the million-dollar kid!”

“I know it,” grinned young Holmes.  “I am!  Also it seems equally certain that I am not!”

“What do you make of the whole business, fellows?” Tom asked, turning to the other chums.

“I’ve my own idea,” laughed Dave Darrin.

“Give it us, quickly!” begged Danny Grin.

“My idea,” Dave declared, “is that Hibbert is a rather harmless lunatic, yet one who has to be watched a bit.”

“Then what about Colquitt?” urged Hazelton.

“Colquitt,” guessed Darry, “is Hibbert’s keeper.”

“The mild lunatic idea,” Tom observed, “fits in well with a chap who, in this sweltering July weather, will insist on wearing a four-quart silk hat, a spite-fence collar and a long, black, double-breasted coat.”

“There’s only one part of the whole dream that I’d like to believe,” sighed young Holmes.  “I’d be quite willing to have it proved to me that I’m a young millionaire!”

“What would you do if you had the million—–­right in your hand?” quizzed Danny Grin.

“I’d transfer it to my pockets,” Greg answered.

“What next?” pressed Dan.

“I’d hurry to the bank with the money.”

“And—–­then?” Dan still insisted.

“Then,” supplied practical Tom Reade, “he’d end our suspense by paying Dick ninety dollars for our war canoe!”

“I would,” Greg agreed.

CHAPTER II

DICK AND SOME HIGH FINANCE

“I feel like a fellow without any manners,” complained Dave Darrin.

“What have you done now?” asked Greg, coming out of his million-dollar trance.

“It’s what I haven’t done,” Darry answered.  “It’s also what none of us have done.  We haven’t thanked our very pleasant, even if slightly erratic, host for his entertainment.”

“We can’t very well butt in,” declared Reade, glancing down the street.  “Hibbert and his kee—–­I mean, his friend—–­are still talking earnestly.  I wonder if they lock poor Hibbert up part of the time?”

Colquitt and young Mr. Hibbert had now turned in at the Eagle Hotel.  Dave glanced at his watch, remarking: 

“Fellows, it’s ten minutes after six.  Those of you who want any supper will do well to hurry home.”

“I’m certain that I can’t eat a bit of supper,” declared Hazelton, looking almost alarmed.  “I’ve eaten so much of that cream and cantaloupe that I haven’t a cubic inch of space left for anything else.”