"Serving writs." "Gorton is not Gordon," remarked Mr. Kedge, with legal acumen. "By the way, Kimberly, I have heard nothing of Gorton lately. What has become of him?" "I have not the least idea, sir. We parted in a huff, so he wouldn't perhaps be likely to come in my way again. Some business that he mismanaged, if you remember, sir, down at Calne." "When he arrested one man for another," laughed the lawyer, "and got entangled in a coroner's inquest, and I don't know what all." Mr. Carr had pricked up his ears, scarcely daring to breathe. But his manner was careless to a degree. "The man he arrested being Lord Hartledon; the man he ought to have arrested being the Honourable Percival Elster," he interposed, laughing. "What! do you know about it?" cried the lawyer. "I remember hearing of it; I was intimate with Mr. Elster at the time." "He has since become Lord Hartledon." "Yes. But about this Gorton! I should not be in the least surprised if he is the man I am inquiring for. Can you describe him to me, Mr. Kimberly?" "He is a short, slight man, under thirty, with red hair and whiskers." Mr. Carr nodded. "Light hair with a reddish tinge it has been described to me. Do you happen to be at all acquainted with his antecedents?" "Not I; I know nothing about, the man," said Mr. Kedge. "Kimberly does, perhaps." "No, sir," dissented Kimberly. "He had been to Australia, I believe; and that's all I know about him." "It is the same man," said Mr. Carr, quietly. "And if you can tell me anything about him," he continued, turning to the older man, "I shall be exceedingly obliged to you. To begin with--when did you first know him?" But at this juncture an interruption occurred. Hopkins the discourteous came in with a card, which he presented to his principal. The gentleman was waiting to see Mr. Kedge. Two more clients were also waiting, he added, Thomas Carr rose, and the end of it was that he went with Mr. Kimberly to his own room. "It's Carr of the Inner Temple," whispered Mr. Kedge in his clerk's ear. "Oh, I know him, sir." "All right. If you can help him, do so." "I first knew Gorton about fifteen months ago," observed the clerk, when they were shut in together. "A friend of mine, now dead, spoke of him to me as a respectable young fellow who had fallen in the world, and asked if I could help him to some employment. I think he told me somewhat of his history; but I quite forget it. I know he was very low down then, with scarcely bread to eat." "Did this friend of yours call him Gorton or Gordon?" interrupted Mr. Carr. "Gorton. I never heard him called Gordon at all. I remember seeing a book of his that he seemed to set some store by. It was printed in old English, and had his name on the title-page: 'George Gorton. From his affectionate father, W. Gorton.' I employed him in some outdoor work. He knew London perfectly well, and seemed to know people too." "And he had been to Australia?"