"Isn't this slick, though!" exclaimed Tim Muldoon, as he gazed about below decks, and inspected the stateroom assigned to him. "It's great to be a millionaire!"
"Yes, it's lots of fun when you can have a boat like this," admitted Dick, "but——" He did not complete the sentence. He was thinking of the men who had attacked him in the dark, and those who had lured him to the other yacht. "A millionaire's life is not all roses."
Captain Barton showed the boys how to stow away their belongings to the best advantage. Dick's things had been put in the owner's cabin, which consisted of a large stateroom, a little parlor and a private bath.
"Oh, say, this is too gorgeous for me," objected the young millionaire. "I want a room like the other fellows."
"No, you stay here," advised Paul. "Don't you s'pose we want to put on some style when we have visitors? As soon as you come on board, down comes the blue burgee, to show you're ready for company, and then we chaps will escort 'em down below here, chuck a big bluff, and you can serve 'em with cocoa and cakes, or whatever other form of stuff they are addicted to."
"It sounds good," admitted Dick, with a laugh, and he was finally prevailed upon to occupy the rooms designed for the owner. Captain Barton had a good-sized stateroom near Dick's, and the other boys were provided with comfortable quarters adjoining, so they were all together. Grit was given a kennel on deck, but he knew the freedom of the yacht was his, and he poked his nose into every corner, from the engine room to the chart house.
Their trunks were put away, after their clothes had been taken out, and the boys arranged their rooms, donned suits in keeping with their characters as sailors, and then were ready to go again on deck. That is all but Dick and the captain, who wanted to have a talk.
"What's the matter, Henry?" asked the millionaire's son, as he saw the young iron merchant standing irresolutely in front of his stateroom.
"I don't know, but I can't seem to get used to it," was the reply. "Seems as if I'd ought to be hitching up, to go out and get a load of junk, or see a man about buying some, or else I ought to feed my horse, so his ribs won't stick together."