xpenses of late, Carl. If you had known him as I knew him--back there
close to 'God's immortal granite,' as you so aptly phrased it, you would
agree with me that the humor of the situation is worth whatever it
costs. He had to count the pennies, Carl, and when one threatened to get
away he had to chase around it and head it off. He led the simple life
and though his middle name was Standish, he regarded it as a sinful
vanity to think of his ancestors."

Hamilton's smile was one of whimsical and naive humor as he fished from
a desk drawer a thick sheaf of papers and laid them before the other.

"Times have changed. Cast your eye on those. They represent some of the
Governor's expenses. They are bills from the Anglo-Saxon Bureau of
Genealogy."

"What is this bureau?" inquired Carl, and Burton raised his brows.

"Don't you know? Why, it's a concern that outfits one with a full line
of ancestors. My father is now prominent in many orders predicated on
ancestors. His mail runs over with epistles beginning, 'Dear Sir and
Compatriot.' Such excavating of tombs and catacombs is costly." The
young money baron paused and grinned.

"Once the old gentleman got warmed up, he went the full route and took
all the jumps, Carl. He started out modestly enough to establish his
descent from Miles Standish, but when they had run the Plymouth captain
to earth, the trail was hot and their appetites were whetted. They had
tasted blue blood. Now they've worked back to a king or two, and the
Governor spoke recently of going to England to consult cathedral
records. I believe he secretly covets William the Conqueror."

Hamilton shook his head and added sadly, "I hate to think how Corbin
will grieve when he learns what William the Conqueror costs. Also,
father has a beautiful family crest--you may have noticed it on his
walking stick. I haven't yet mastered the niceties of heraldry so I
can't properly describe it, but, to me, it looks like a rabbit leaping
over an Edam cheese with sprigs of lettuce on either side. A
delicatessen shop will steal it some day and father's heart will break."

Carl Bristoll filled and lighted a pipe and Hamilton Burton seated
himself on the edge of the desk with his eyes fixed on a swinging foot.

"We all have our vanities," he mused. "I named myself
Montagu--arbitrarily and of my own unbiased will. I nominated and
elected myself a Montagu, Carl, and I had an equal right to be a
Capulet."

"I call that a modera