for Montgomery Brewster to have made her anxiously uncertain of
his state of mind. She cared, indeed, much more than she intended
to confess at the outset.

It was nearly half-past five when he came, and for once the
philosophical Miss Drew felt a little irritation. So certain was
she of his object in coming that his tardiness was a trifle
ruffling. He apologized for being late, and succeeded in banishing
the pique that possessed her. It was naturally impossible for him
to share all his secrets with her, that is why he did not tell her
that Grant & Ripley had called him up to report the receipt of a
telegram from Swearengen Jones, in which the gentleman laconically
said he could feed the whole State of Montana for less than six
thousand dollars. Beyond that there was no comment. Brewster, in
dire trepidation, hastened to the office of the attorneys. They
smiled when he burst in upon them.

"Good heavens!" he exclaimed, "does the miserly old hayseed expect
me to spend a million for newspapers, cigarettes and Boston
terriers? I thought he would be reasonable!"

"He evidently has seen the newspaper accounts of your dinner, and
this is merely his comment," said Mr. Ripley.

"It's either a warning, or else he's ambiguous in his
compliments," growled Brewster, disgustedly.

"I don't believe he disapproved, Mr. Brewster. In the west the old
gentleman is widely known as a wit."