Two minutes later the following telegram to Swearengen Jones was awaiting the arrival of a messenger-boy, and Brewster was blandly assuring Messrs. Grant & Ripley that he did not "care a rap for the consequences": NEW YORK, October 23, 1-- SWEARENGEN JONES, Butte, Mont. No doubt you could do it for less than six thousand. Montana is regarded as the best grazing country in the world, but we don't eat that sort of stuff in New York. That's why it costs more to live here. MONTGOMERY BREWSTER. Just before leaving his apartments for Miss Drew's home he received this response from faraway Montana: BUTTE, MONTANA, Oct. 23, 1-- MONTGOMERY BREWSTER, New York. We are eight thousand feet above the level of the sea. I suppose that's why it costs us less to live high. S. JONES. "I was beginning to despair, Monty," said Miss Drew, reproachfully, when he had come down from the height of his exasperation and remembered that there were things of more importance. The light in his eyes brought the faintest tinge of red to her cheeks, and where a moment before there had been annoyance there was now a feeling of serenity. For a moment the silence was fraught with purpose. Monty glanced around the room, uncertain how to begin. It was not so easy as he had imagined. "You are very good to see me," he said at last. "It was absolutely necessary for me to talk to you this evening; I could not have endured the suspense any longer. Barbara, I've spent three or four sleepless nights on your account. Will it spoil your evening if I tell you in plain words what you already know? It won't bother you, will it?" he floundered. "What do you mean, Monty?" she begged, purposely dense, and with wonderful control of her eyes. "I love you, Babs," he cried. "I thought you knew about it all along or I should have told you before. That's why I haven't slept. The fear that you may not care for me has driven me nearly to distraction. It couldn't go on any longer. I must know to-day."