Norman's now deep-set eyes gleamed humorously in his haggard and failed-looking face. "_In_ difficulties? Not at all. I'm _under_ them--drowned forty fathoms deep." "Then you'll not resent my coming straight to the point and asking if I can help you?" "That's a rash offer, Tetlow. I never suspected rashness was one of your qualities." "I don't mean to offer you a loan or anything of that sort," pursued Tetlow. "There's only one thing that can help a man in your position. He must either be saved outright or left to drown. I've come with something that may save you." There was so much of the incongruous in a situation where _he_ was listening to an offer of salvation from such a man as Billy Tetlow that Norman smiled. "Well, what is it?" he said. "There's a chance that within six months or so--perhaps sooner--Burroughs and Galloway may end their truce and declare war on each other. If so, Galloway will win. Anyhow, the Galloway connection would be better than the Burroughs connection." Norman looked at Tetlow shrewdly. "How do you know this?" he asked. Tetlow's eyes shifted. "Can't tell you. But I know." "Galloway hates me." Tetlow nodded. "You were the one who forced him into a position where he had to make peace with Burroughs. But Galloway's a big man, big enough to admire ability wherever he sees it. He has admired you ever since." "And has given his business to another firm." "But if the break comes he'll need you. And he's the sort of man who doesn't hesitate to take what he needs." "Too remote," said Norman, and his despondent gesture showed how quickly hope had lighted up. "Besides, Billy, I've lost my nerve. I'm no good." "But you've gotten over that--that attack of insanity." Norman shook his head. "I can't understand it," ejaculated Tetlow. "Of course you can't," said Norman. "But--there it is." "You haven't seen her lately?" "Not since that day ... Billy, she hasn't--" Norman stopped, and Tetlow saw that his hands were trembling with agitation, and marveled. "Oh, no," replied Tetlow. "So far as I know, she's still respectable. But--why don't you go to see her? I think you'd be cured." "Why do you say that?" demanded Norman, the veins in his forehead bulging with the fury he was ready to release. "For no especial reason--on my honor, Fred," replied Tetlow. "Simply because time works wonders in all sorts of ways, including infatuations. Also--well, the fact is, it didn't seem to me that young lady improved on acquaintance. Maybe I got tired, or piqued--I don't know. If she hadn't been a silly little fool, would she have refused you? I know it sounds well--in a novel or a play--for a poor girl to refuse a good offer, just from sentiment. But, all the same, only a fool girl does it--in life--eh? But go to see her. You'll understand what I mean, I think. I want you to brace up. That may help." "What's she doing?"