with a snort. "Your idea of a military academy, where he'll learn to shoot and stab his fellow citizens, is a foolish one, Mortimer."
"It is not altogether my plan," said Mr. Hamilton softly as he thought of his dead wife. "Dick's mother provided for his future in her will, and I must see that her wishes are carried out. Besides, I think a military training is good for a young man."
"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Uncle Ezra. "Neither you nor I had it, Mortimer, and we got along. We're both well off."
"Money isn't everything," said Mr. Hamilton. "No, Ezra, I'm much obliged for your offer, but I think Dick will go to Kentfield. He is to start in the morning."
"Hum! It's a foolish idea," again snorted Uncle Ezra. "You'll live to see the day you'll both be sorry for it."
"I hope not, Ezra."
"Well, you will."
"We'll not discuss that now. Will you have a cigar before dinner?"
"I never smoke. It's a dangerous and expensive habit."
"Slightly dangerous, perhaps, but I smoke very little. As for the expense, I think I can afford it. This has been quite a prosperous year for me—and Dick."
"What you spend for cigars would pay the interest on a large loan," went on Mr. Larabee.
