Tembarom thought of certain speculators of entirely insignificant standing of whom he had chanced to see and hear anecdotes in New York. Most of them were youths of obscure origin who sold newspapers or blacked boots, or “swapped” articles the value of which lay in the desire they could excite in other persons to possess them. A popular method known as “bluff” was their most trusted weapon, and even at twelve and fifteen years of age Tembarom had always regarded it as singularly obvious. He always detested “bluff,” whatsoever its disguise, and was rather mystified by its ingenious faith in itself. “He's got badly stung,” was his internal comment as he sucked at his pipe and smiled urbanely at Palliser across the room as they sat together. “He's come here with some sort of deal on that he knows he couldn't work with any one but just such a fool as he thinks I am. I guess,” he added in composed reflectiveness, “I don't really know how big a fool I do look.” Whatsoever the deal was, he would be likely to let it be known in time. “He'll get it off his chest if he's going away to-morrow,” decided Tembarom. “If there's anything he's found out, he'll use it. If it doesn't pan out as he thinks it will he'll just float away to his old lady.” He gave Palliser every chance, talking to him and encouraging him to talk, even asking him to let him look over the prospectus of the new company and explain details to him, as he was going to explain them to the old lady in Northumberland. He opened up avenues; but for a time Palliser made no attempt to stroll down them. His walk would be a stroll, Tembarom knew, being familiar with his methods. His aspect would be that of a man but little concerned. He would be capable of a slightly rude coldness if he felt that concern on his part was in any degree counted as a factor. Tembarom was aware, among other things, that innocent persons would feel that it was incumbent upon them to be very careful in their treatment of him. He seemed to be thinking things over before he decided upon the psychological moment at which he would begin, if he began. When a man had a good deal to lose or to win, Tembarom realized that he would be likely to hold back until he felt something like solid ground under him. After Miss Alicia had left them for the night, perhaps he felt, as a result of thinking the matter over, that he had reached a foothold of a firmness at least somewhat to be depended upon. “What a change you have made in that poor woman's life!” he said, walking to the side-table and helping himself to a brandy and soda. “What a change!” “It struck me that a change was needed just about the time I dropped in,” answered his host. “All the same,” suggested Palliser, tolerantly, “you were immensely generous. She wasn't entitled to expect it, you know.” “She didn't expect anything, not a darned thing,” said Tembarom. “That was what hit me.”