suggested Mr. Hamilton, as he and his son walked toward the dining-room.
"About how large a yacht do you think I ought to get, dad?" asked Dick, as the butler placed their chairs at the table.
"Well, suit yourself about that. Of course, you want a good, seaworthy craft, but I shouldn't get one too large. If you do you'll have to engage a big crew to help navigate it; and again, while I have no wish to restrict you in the spending of your fortune, you will find yachting pretty expensive."
"Expensive! I should say it was, Mortimer!" exclaimed Mr. Larabee, coming into the dining-room at that moment. "Don't think of letting Richard have a yacht."
"We have already discussed that," said Mr. Hamilton, somewhat coldly, "and my mind is made up. Better have something to eat, Ezra."
"Well, I will have a bit of dry toast and a cup of weak tea. I don't believe that will give me the dyspepsia," and the butler tried to conceal a smile as he set before the crabbed old man the very frugal repast.
Dick and his father talked yachting from the beginning until the end of the meal, and Uncle Ezra Larabee was a silent, but objecting listener. Occasionally a crafty look came over his face, to be replaced by one of agony when Dick mentioned the spending of large sums of money. At length, Mr. Hamilton said:
