第70章 XIV(3)

Rarely does anyone, however unworthy--and Fred Norman was far from unworthy, as we humans go--rarely does anyone find himself absolutely without a friend. There is a saying that no man ever sunk so low, ever became so vile and squalid in soul and body, but that if he were dying, and the fact were noised throughout the world, some woman somewhere would come--perhaps from a sense of duty, perhaps from love, perhaps for the sake of a moment of happiness long past but never equaled, and so never forgotten--but from whatever motive, she would come. In the same manner, anyone in dire straits can be sure of some friend. There were several others whom Norman had been expecting--men he had saved by his legal ingenuity at turning points in their careers. None of these was so imprudent as uselessly to involve himself.

It was Tetlow who came--Tetlow, with whom his accounts were more than balanced, with the balance against him. Tetlow, whom he did not expect.

Norman did not welcome him effusively. He said at once: "How is--she?"

Tetlow shifted uneasily. "I don't know. She's not with us. I gave her a place there--to get her away from Culver. But she didn't stay long. No doubt she's doing well."

"I thought you cared about her," said Norman, who in estimating Tetlow's passion had measured it by his own, had neglected to consider that the desires of most men soon grow short of breath and weary of leg.

"Yes--so I did care for her," said Tetlow, in the voice of a man who has been ill but is now well. "But that's all over. Women aren't worth bothering about much. They're largely vanity. The way they soon take a man for granted if he's at all kind to them discourages any but the poorest sort of fool. At least that's my opinion."

"Then you don't come from her?" said Norman with complete loss of interest in his caller.

"No. I've come-- Fred, I hear you're in difficulties."

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.