"You folks been cuttin' a pretty wide swath here in New York."
"That's so, Uncle Peter,—wider than we could have cut in Montana City."
"Been spendin' money purty free for a year."
"Yes; you need money here."
"I reckon you can't say about how much, now?"
"Oh, I shouldn't wonder," Percival answered, going over to the escritoire, and taking out some folded sheets and several check-books. "Of course, I haven't it all here, but I have the bulk of it. Let me figure a little."
He began to work with a pencil on a sheet of paper. He was busy almost half an hour, while Uncle Peter smoked in silence.
"It struck me the other night we might have been getting a little near to the limit, so I figured a bit then, too, and I guess this will give you some idea of it. Of course this isn't all mine; it includes ma's and Psyche's. Sis has been a mark for every bridge-player between the Battery and the Bronx, and the way ma has been plunging on her indigent poor is a caution,—she certainly does hold the large golden medal for amateur cross-country philanthropy. Now here's a rough expense account—of course only approximate, except some of the items I happened to have." Uncle Peter took the statement, and studied it carefully.
Paid Hightower Hotel................ $ 42,983.75
Keep of horses, and extra horse and carriage hire....................... 5,628.50