profit, loss, and risk of cattle-raising in Montana, till bedtime came for
dad. Then I went up and roasted Rankin for looking so damned astonished at
my wanting to go to bed at ten-thirty. Rankin is unbearably
righteous-looking, at times. I used often to wish he'd do something
wicked, just to take that moral look off him; but the pedestal of his
solemn virtue was too high for mere human temptations. So I had to content
myself with shying a shoe his way and asking him what there was funny
about me.

After dad got well enough to go back to watching his millions grow, and
didn't seem to need me to keep him cheered up, life in our house dropped
back to its old level--which means that I saw dad once a day, maybe. He
gave me back my allowance and took to paying my bills again, and I was
free to get into the old pace--which I will confess wasn't slow. The
Montana incident seemed closed for good, and only Frosty's letters and a
rather persistent memory was left of it.

In a month I had to acknowledge two emotions I hadn't counted on: surprise
and disgust. I couldn't hit the old pace. Somehow, things were
different--or I was different. At first I thought it was because Barney
MacTague was away cruising around the Hawaii Islands, somewhere, with a
party.

I came near having the _Molly Stark_ put in commission and going after
him; but dad wouldn't hear of that, and told me I'd better keep on dry
land during the stormy months. So I gave in, for I hadn't the heart to go
dead against his wishes, as I used to do. Besides, he'd have had to put up
the coin, which he refused to do.

So I moped around the clubs, backed the light-weight champion of the hour
for a big match, put up a pile of money on him, and saw it fade away and
take with it my trust in champions. Dad was good about it, and put up what
I'd gone over my allowance without a whimper. Then I chased around the
country in the _Yellow Peril_ and won three races down at Los Angeles,
touring down and back with a fellow who had slathers of money, wore blue
ties, and talked through his nose. I leave my enjoyment of the trip to
your imagination.

When I got back, I had the _Yellow Peril_ refitted and the tonneau put
back on, and went in for society. I think that spell lasted as long as
three weeks; I quit immensely popular with a certain bunch of widows and
the like, and with a system so permeated with tea and bridge that it took
a stiff course of high-balls and poker to take t