New York. There, the news is out, Dick, and I hope you are pleased."
"Pleased? I can't begin to thank you! I wonder where I shall go?"
"I may have something to suggest on that score later," went on Mr. Hamilton. "Just now, suppose we have a little lunch. Come, Ezra."
"Not for me, Mortimer!" exclaimed Mr. Larabee. "It's bad for the digestion to eat between meals, and besides, it's a wasteful habit. But, Nephew Richard, I want to protest against this idea of you buying a steam yacht, and squandering money on travel. There is no sense in it! You had much better put the money out at interest. I can sell you some shares in a woolen mill I own, and you could spend your summer vacation in the factory, learning a useful trade."
"No, thank you, Uncle Ezra, I think I'll do as my mother wished me to, and travel," said Dick.
"Oh, the wastefulness of this rising generation!" murmured the old man. "It is terrible! Terrible!"
Dick and his father turned to leave the library.
"A steam yacht! A steam yacht all for myself and friends! It's too good to be true!" cried Dick enthusiastically, as he linked his arm in his father's. "Can't you come along, dad?"
"I'm afraid not. But now let's discuss some details. You haven't any too much time. Come along, Ezra, and have a cup of coffee, anyhow."
Mr. Ezra Larabee declined and lingered behind
