rfect portrait of Swearengen Jones in the act
of putting down a large black mark against him, and he forbore.

"I wish I knew whether I had to abide by the New York or the Montana
standard of extravagance," Brewster said to himself. "I wonder if he
ever sees the New York papers."

Late each night the last of the grand old Brewster family went to his
bedroom where, after dismissing his man, he settled down at his desk,
with a pencil and a pad of paper. Lighting the candles, which were more
easily managed, he found, than lamps, and much more costly, he
thoughtfully and religiously calculated the expenses for the day.
"Nopper" Harrison and Elon Gardner had the receipts for all moneys
spent, and Joe Bragdon was keeping an official report, but the "chief,"
as they called him, could not go to sleep until he was satisfied in his
own mind that he was keeping up the average. For the first two weeks it
had been easy--in fact, he seemed to have quite a comfortable lead in
the race. He had spent almost $100,000 in the fortnight, but he
realized that the greater part of it had gone into the yearly and not
the daily expense-account. He kept a "profit and loss" entry in his
little private ledger, but it was not like any other account of the
kind in the world. What the ordinary merchant would have charged to
"loss" he jotted down on the "profit" side, and he was continually
looking for opportunities to swell the total.

Rawles, who had been his grandfather's butler since the day after he
landed in New York, came over to the grandson's establishment, greatly
to the wrath and confusion of the latter's Aunt Emmeline. The chef came
from Paris and his name was Detuit. Ellis, the footman, also found a
much better berth with Monty than he had had in the house on the
avenue. Aunt Emmeline never forgave her nephew for these base and
disturbing acts of treachery, as she called them.

One of Monty's most extraordinary financial feats grew out of the
purchase of a $14,000 automobile. He blandly admitted to "Nopper"
Harrison and the two secretaries that he intended to use it to practice
with only, and that as soon as he learned how to run an "auto" as it
should be run he expected to buy a good, sensible, durable machine for
$7,000.

His staff officers frequently put their heads together to devise ways
and means of curbing Monty's reckless extravagance. They were worried.

"He's like a sailor in port," protested Harrison. "Money is no object