own? Perhaps he had judged
them harshly? Yes, he was sure he had judged them harshly. There was
such a thing as breaking a proud spirit--and he found within himself
apparent proof that precisely this calamity had befallen him.

There came a time--and it came soon--when he had about exhausted his
desperate ingenuity at cornering acquaintances and former friends and
"sticking them up" for loans of five hundred, a hundred, fifty,
twenty-five--Because these vulgar and repulsive facts are not found in
the usual records of the men who have dropped and come up again, do not
imagine that only the hopeless and never-reappearing failures pass
through such experiences. On the contrary, they are part of the common
human lot, and few indeed are the men who have not had them--and
worse--if they could but be brought to tell the truth. Destiny rarely
permits any one of us to go from cradle to grave without doing many a
thing shameful and universally condemned. How could it be otherwise
under our social system? When Norman was about at the end of all his
resources Tetlow called on him--Tetlow, now a partner in the Lockyer
firm.

He came with an air of stealth. "I don't want anyone to know I'm doing
this," said he frankly. "If it got out, I'd be damaged and you'd not
profit."

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