"Let me take a hand in this," begged Mr. Wright. "Is your letter at all of a private nature?"
"Not in the least, sir."
"May I see it?"
"Certainly, Mr. Wright."
The hotel manager followed Dick to the writing desk, where he glanced over the letter.
"I have only one suggestion to make," said the manager. "Why not ask the secretary, Mr. Howgate, to send his answer by telegraph to this hotel, collect?"
"That would be all right," agreed Dick frankly, "if his answer isn't too long, or if he doesn't have to send more than one telegram. We are not exactly overburdened with funds, Mr. Wright."
"That doesn't cut any figure at all," replied the hotel manager in a voice so low that none but Prescott heard him. "Any telegrams sent here for you will be paid for by the hotel. There will be no expense to you, Mr. Prescott."
"I'm afraid I don't understand why you should do this, Mr. Wright," said Dick, looking at the other attentively.
"Purely a matter of business, my boy," the hotel manager beamed down at him. "Such racing as I hope to have here on Lake Pleasant constitutes a summer season attraction. Arrange a schedule of races, and you may be sure that both hotels will advertise the fact. It will be enough to draw a lot of young people here, and this hotel thrives by the number of guests that it entertains. So will you do me the favor of asking your Mr. Howgate to telegraph his answer—-collect—-addressing it here?"