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?"

"No doubt you're right, Fred," conceded Tetlow. "But I'm afraid I
haven't the nerve."

"Come in behind me. I've got nerve for two--_now_!"

At that triumphant "now" Tetlow looked curiously at his friend. "Yes, _it_
has changed you--changed you back to what you were. I don't understand."

"It isn't necessary that you understand," rejoined Norman."

"Do you think you could really carry through that scheme you've just
outlined?"

"I see it fascinates you."

"I've no objection to rising to the class of big men," said Tetlow. "But
aren't you letting your confidence in yourself deceive you?"

"Did I ever let it deceive me?"

"No," confessed Tetlow. "I've often watched you, and thought you'd fall
through it, or stumble at least. But you never did."

"And shall I tell you why? Because I use my self-confidence and my
hopefulness and all my optimistic qualities only to create an atmosphere
of success. But when it comes to planning a move of any kind, when I
assemble my lieutenants round the council board in my brain, I never
permit a single cheerful one to speak, or even to enter. It's a serious,
gloomy circle of faces, Bill."

Tetlow nodded reminiscently. "Yes, you always were like that, Fred."

"And the one who does the most talking at my council is the gloomiest of
all. He's Lieutenant Flawpicker. He can't see any hope for anything.
He sees all the possibilities of failure. He sees all the chances
against success. And what's the result? Why, when the council rises it
has taken out of the plan every chance of mishap that my intelligence
could foresee and it has provided not one but several safe lines of
orderly retreat in case success proves impossible."

Tetlow gazed at Norman in worshipful admiration. "What a brain! What
a mind!" he ejaculated. "And to think that _you_ could be upset by a
_woman_!"

Norman leaned back in his chair smiling broadly. "Not by a woman," he
corrected. "By a girl--an inexperienced girl of twenty."

"It seems incre