"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."