s,'" said Norman. "Of course, if Galloway
could make me come to him, he'd be a fool to come to me. But when he
finds I'm not coming, why, he'll behave himself--if his business is
important enough for me to bother with."

"But if he doesn't come, Fred?"

"Then--my Universal Fuel scheme, or some other equally good. But you
will never see me limbering my knees in the anteroom of a rich man, when
he needs me and I don't need him."

"Well, we'll see," said Tetlow, with the air of a sober man patient with
one who is not sober.

"By the way," continued Norman, "if Galloway says he's too ill to
come--or anything of that sort--tell him I'd not care to undertake the
affairs of a man too old or too feeble to attend to business, as he
might die in the midst of it."

Tetlow's face was such a wondrous exhibit of discomfiture that Norman
laughed outright. Evidently he had forestalled his fat friend in a
scheme to get him to Galloway in spite of himself. "All right--all
right," said Tetlow fretfully. "We'll sleep on this. But I don't see why
you're so opposed to going to see the man. It looks like snobbishness to
me--false pride--silly false pride."

"It _is_ snobbishness," said Norman. "But you forget that snobbishness
rules the world. The way to rule fools is to make them respect you. And
the way to make them respect you is by showing them that they are your
inferiors. I want Galloway's respect because I want his money. And I'll
not get his money--as much of it as belongs to me--except by showing
him my value. Not my value as a lawyer, for he knows that already, but
my value as a man. Do you see?"

"No, I don't," snapped Tetlow.

"That's what it means to be Tetlow. Now, I do see--and that's why I'm
Norman."

Tetlow looked at him doubtfully, uncertain whether he had been listening
to wisdom put in a jocose form of audacious egotism or to the
effervescings of intoxication. The hint of a smile lurking in the
sobriety of the powerful features of his extraordinary friend only
increased his doubt. Was Norman mocking him, and himself as well? If so,
was it the mockery of sober sense or of drunkenness?

"You seem to be puzzled, Billy," said Norman, and Tetlow wondered how he
had seen. "Don't get your brains in a stew trying to understand me. I'm
acting the way I've always acted--except in one matter. You know that I
know what I'm about?"

"I certainly do," replied his admirer.

"Then, let it go at that. If you could understan