f all claims with such a sum at command, and then his father
could so easily spare it out of so much!

Meanwhile Mr. Bultitude, with great care and precision, selected from
the coins before him a florin, two shillings, and two sixpences, which
he pushed across to his son, who looked at them with a disappointment he
did not care to conceal.

"An uncommonly liberal allowance for a young fellow like you," he
observed. "Don't buy any foolishness with it, and if, towards the end of
the term you want a little more, and write an intelligible letter asking
for it, and I think proper to let you have it--why, you'll get it, you
know."

Dick had not the courage to ask for more, much as he longed to do so, so
he put the money in his purse with very qualified expressions of
gratitude.

In his purse he seemed to find something which had escaped his memory,
for he took out a small parcel and unfolded it with some hesitation.

"I nearly forgot," he said, speaking with more animation than he had yet
done, "I didn't like to take it without asking you, but is this any use?
May I have it?"

"Eh?" said Mr. Bultitude, sharply, "what's that? Something else--what is
it you want now?"

"It's only that stone Uncle Duke brought mamma from India; the thing, he
said, they called a 'Pagoda stone,' or something, out there."

"Pagoda stone? The boy means Garuda Stone. I should like to know how you
got hold of that; you've been meddling in my drawers, now, a thing I
will not put up with, as I've told you over and over again."

"No, I haven't, then," said Dick, "I found it in a tray in the
drawing-room, and Barbara said, perhaps, if I asked you, you might let
me have it, as she didn't think it was any use to you."

"Then Barbara had no right to say anything of the sort."

"But may I have it? I may, mayn't I?" persisted Dick.

"Have it? certainly not. What could you possibly want with a thing like
that? It's ridiculous. Give it to me."

Dick handed it over reluctantly enough. It was not much to look at,
quite an insignificant-looking little square tablet of greyish green
stone, pierced at one angle, and having on two of its faces faint traces
of mysterious letters or symbols, which time had made very difficult to
distinguish.

It looked harmless enough as Mr. Bultitude took it in his hand; there
was no kindly hand to hold him back, no warning voice to hint that there
might possibly be sleeping within that small marble block the pent-up