“Partly?” said Tetlow.

“Partly,” repeated Norman, laughing.  “I know you, Billy, and that means I know you’re absolutely incapable of plotting as big a scheme as you suggested to me.  It came either from Galloway or from some one of his clique.”

“I said all I’m at liberty to say, Fred.”

“I don’t wish you to break your promise.  All I want to know is, can I get the three thousand a month and assurance of its lasting and leading to something bigger?”

“What is your other scheme?” said Tetlow, and it was plain to the shrewder young lawyer that the less shrewd young lawyer wished to gain time.

“Simple and sure,” replied Norman.  “We will buy ten shares of Universal Fuel Company through a dummy and bring suit to dissolve it.  I looked into the matter for Burroughs once when he was after the Fosdick-Langdon group.  Universal Fuel wouldn’t dare defend the action I could bring.  We could get what we pleased for our ten shares to let up on the suit.  The moment their lawyers saw the papers I’d draw, they’d advise it.”

Tetlow shook his large, impressively molded head.  “Shady,” said he.  “Shady.”

Norman smiled with good-natured patience.  “You sound like Burroughs or Galloway when they are denouncing a man for trying to get rich by the same methods they pursued.  My dear Bill, don’t be one of those lawyers who will do the queer work for a client but not for themselves.  There’s no sense, no morality, no intelligent hypocrisy even, in that.  We didn’t create the commercial morality of the present day.  For God’s sake, let’s not be of the poor fools who practice it but get none of its benefits.”

Tetlow shifted uneasily.  “I don’t like to hear that sort of thing,” said he, apologetic and nervous.

“Is it true?”

“Yes.  But—­damn it, I don’t like to hear it.”

“That is to say, you’re willing to pay the price of remaining small and obscure just for the pleasure of indulging in a wretched hypocrisy of a self-deception.  Bill, come out of the small class.  Whether you go in with me or not, come out of the class of understrappers.  What’s the difference between the big men and their little followers?  Why, the big men see.  They don’t deceive themselves with the cant they pour out for the benefit of the ignorant mob.”

Tetlow was listening like a pupil to a teacher.  That was always his attitude toward Norman.

“The big men,” continued Norman, “know that canting is necessary—­that one must always profess high and disinterested motives, and so on, and so on.  But they don’t let their hypocritical talk influence their actions.  How is it with the little fellows?  Why, they believe the flapdoodle the leaders talk.  They go into the enterprise, do all the small dirty work, lie and cheat and steal, and hand over the proceeds to the big fellows, for the sake of a pat on the back and a noisy ’Honest fellow!  Here are a few crumbs for you.’  And crumbs are all that a weak, silly, hypocritical fool deserves.  Can you deny it?”