He saw, at a glance, that the box bore the imprint of one of the Gridley jewelers.
"I can guess!" cried Dick.

"I know what's in the box!" "Suppose you made a wrong guess ?" laughed his mother teasingly.

"Better open it and make sure." Dick picked up the box with trembling fingers.
"Mighty light, whatever it is," he murmured.

Then he took off the cover.
"What's this ?" choked Dick.

"O-o-o-h!" For all he saw resting in the box was a slip of white paper on which had been poorly printed, in lead pencil, the words: "Merry Christmas, Master Butt-in!" "Some of Dad's fooling," laughed Dick a moment later.
"Not much it isn't," retorted Mr.Prescott, taking a quick step forward.
"Let me see that paper." Dick handed it over, and his father read the words.
"What on earth does this mean ?" he demanded.