"I'm afraid I can't do as you ask, Ezra. I've promised Dick that he may have the boat, and I'm sure it will do him good." "Humph!" exclaimed Uncle Ezra. Then his face took on a hard and determined look. "Mortimer," he said finally, after a silence, "I don't like to interfere, but you must remember that Richard's mother was my only sister. I loved her, though I did not agree with some of her views. I'm fond of Richard, and I want to see him grow up a careful and saving man. But he never will as long as you allow him to go on in this fashion." "I'm afraid it's too late to change our plan, Ezra." "No, it's not too late! I'll take a hand in this myself. If you won't bring your son up in the right way, then I'll do it for you!" The lean old man had arisen from his chair, and was excitedly pacing the room. "Why, Ezra, what do you mean?" asked Mr. Hamilton, wondering what sudden emotion had possessed his brother-in-law. Then Mr. Larabee seemed to recollect himself. His manner suddenly changed. "Excuse me, Mortimer," he said more mildly. "I spoke too hastily. I--I wasn't thinking what I was saying. I--I--er--that is, I had some hopes that you might let Richard come to live with me and Samanthy at The Firs for a time. I would give him good training." "I've no doubt you would, Ezra, but Dick doesn't want to go, and I have fallen in with his late mother's plan of having him travel and see the world. Besides, there is another important phase to it." "Very well," spoke Mr. Larabee, and he seemed to be careful of his words. "Then we'll say no more about it, Mortimer. Now, I think I'll get ready to return to Dankville." "Why, it's too soon. You're not going until morning, are you?" "No, but I must get my things in order, and I have some business to attend to. I think I'll go do it now. Do you think that savage dog is out of the way?" "Oh, yes; you needn't fear him." Mr. Larabee cautiously unlocked the library door, and looked out. Then he stepped into the hall. The coast was clear, and he went upstairs to his room. Mr. Hamilton remained in the library. As Dick's uncle reached the head of the stairs, he turned and looked toward the room where his brother-in-law was sitting. "So you won't agree to my plan, to save your son from being a spendthrift, eh?" he murmured. "Then, I'll do it for you in spite of you and him! I'll prevent Richard from wasting all of his money, if I have to lock him up away from you, and where you can't see him." After supper that night, or, rather, following dinner, as Gibbs, the butler, preferred to call it, Dick saddled Rex, his horse, and galloped over to town in the pleasant late June evening. As he was turning into the main street he saw a wagon coming toward him, drawn by a sleek, fat horse, and driven by a genial-faced lad of about our hero's age. "Hello, Henry!" called the young millionaire, pleasantly, drawing rein. "Got a new horse, I see. How's the old iron business? Rattling away, I suppose?"