We'll pull it off together." "You are a thoroughbred, Mrs.Dan," he exclaimed.

"You do help a fellow at a pinch." "That's all right, Monty," she answered; "give me until after Christmas and I'll have the finest favors ever seen.

Other people may have their paper hats and pink ribbons, but you can show them how the thing ought to be done." Her reference to Christmas haunted Brewster, as he drove down Fifth Avenue, with the dread of a new disaster.

Never before had he looked upon presents as a calamity; but this year it was different.
Immediately he began to plan a bombardment of his friends with costly trinkets, when he grew suddenly doubtful of the opinion of his uncle's executor upon this move.

But in response to a telegram, Swearengen Jones, with pleasing irascibility, informed him that "anyone with a drop of human kindness in his body would consider it his duty to give Christmas presents to those who deserved them." Monty's way was now clear.