mustn't be too hasty, even in talking among ourselves."

"That fellow's a snob," asserted Eph. "I'll stand by that anywhere."

"I don't know that I'd say that," replied young Benson, who had recovered
his calmness. "In the first place, Don Melville has evidently had a
golden spoon in his mouth from the day of his birth. He's used to having
things his own way. He may be all right at bottom."

"Then that's where I hope he goes," quivered Eph. "Straight to the
bottom! Under a hundred fathoms of good salt water!"

"We may like him better when we know him," ventured Jack.

"I'm betting though," put in Hal, thoughtfully, "that we're much more
likely to like him less."

"He's a duffer!" snorted Eph.

"We may have to change our minds about that," smiled Jack, dully.

"Ain't he a rich man's son?" demanded Eph, blazing.

"That doesn't make him out a fool or a dullard," retorted the young
captain. "Rich men's sons aren't as often fools as they're suspected of
being. Some of them are mighty clever. The number of great American
fortunes that are doubled, or trebled, in the second generation, show
that."

"Then you're going to side with him?" sneered Eph.