Died. Brian Jones, 26, grass-and-groupie-plagued rock musician, lead guitarist for Britain's Rolling Stones until his pullout last month in a dispute over the group's future musical direction; by drowning; in his swimming pool at Crotchford Farm in Hartfield, Sussex, the 15th-century farmhouse where A. A. Milne created Winnie the Pooh. A onetime garbage collector, Jones was musically memorable for his driving guitar in such hits as This Could Be the Last Time and It's All Over Now. Twice convicted on marijuana charges, he was severely fined but spared a nine-month jail sentence after a psychiatrist at an appeal hearing characterized him as a potential suicide who could not adjust to prison.

Died. Tom Mboya, 38, Kenya's brilliant Minister of Economic Planning, by assassination; Moise Tshombe, 49, erratic former Premier of the Congo, of a heart attack (see THE WORLD).

Died. Augusto Vandor ("El Lobo"), 46, wily boss of Argentina's huge Metallurgical Workers Union, majority spokesman for the national labor movement (CGT) and chief advocate of neo-Peronism (a Peronist system that would not require the return of the ex-dictator); by assassination at the hands of five gunmen in Buenos Aires.

Died. Bart Lytton, 56, short-term titan of the savings and loan business; of a heart attack; in Los Angeles. A onetime theatrical pressagent, grade-B screenwriter ("I'm a lot prouder of some of the mortgages I've written"), and scriptwriter for radio's Gangbusters, Lytton used Broadway promotional techniques to build his Los Angeles-based Lytton Financial Corp. into a $700 million business. Overextension and the collapse of the California housing boom started his downfall in the mid-'60s, and creditors moved in to depose him in April 1968. "Money," he once said, "can be merchandised just like girlie shows," and in recent months he was contemplating a fresh start with his own advertising agency, conceding that he was no longer a rich man but "probably still a genius."

Died. Lawrence Roger Lumley, Earl of Scarbrough, 72, Lord Chamberlain of the royal household from 1952-63; of a heart attack; in Rotherham, Yorkshire. An old-school aristocrat whose family motto is "A Sound Conscience Is a Wall of Brass," the Lord Chamberlain ran head-on into the New Morality in his traditional role as censor of plays, protected Britons from histrionic homosexuality by barring such plays as Tea and Sympathy and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof from the London stage and emasculated Beckett's Waiting for Godot on grounds of blasphemy.

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