"Or about him?" suggested the other, crossing his legs nonchalantly.
"Not much; only that he is an alien."
"An alien?" quickly. "Not a colonial?"
"No; he has lived in the colonies--Tasmania, and so on. But by birth he's an American."
"An American, eh? And practising at the British bar?"
"Not the first case of the kind; exceptions have been made before, and aliens 'called,' as we express it. Steele's hobby of criminology brought him to London, and his earnestness and ability in that line procured for him the privilege he sought. As member of the incorporated society that passes upon the qualifications of candidates it was my pleasure to sit in judgment on him; we raked him fore and aft but, bless you, he stood squarely on his feet and refused to be tripped."
"So he came to England to pursue a certain line?" said Lord Ronsdale half to himself.
"A man with a partiality for criminal work would naturally look to the modern Babylon. Steele apparently works more to gratify that predilection than for any reward in pounds and pence. Must have private means; have known him to spend a deal of time and money on cases there couldn't have been a sixpence in."
"How'd he happen to get down in Tasmania? Odd place for a Yankee!"
"That's one of the questions he wasn't asked," laughingly. "Perhaps what our Teutonic friends would call the Wander-lust took him there." Rising, "My compliments to Sir Charles when you see him."