"I am not technically acquainted with temperaments—couldn't tell what you would call his."
"Well, describe him; is he large or small, red or black-haired; old or young; hearty or ill?"
"You've seen a good many Englishmen in your life, I suppose," I replied.
"O, yes, sir; a great many."
"Well, to my eye, he's pretty much like all the rest."
"That's not very definite, sir; but I suppose you don't study these matters of temperament, etc., as much as we lawyers do. It is a part of our business. We must know our clients in order to serve them well."
"But, in this case, I don't see why it is necessary to know your client at all. No matter who he is; all he wants is to find Mr. Frederic Hague, and I have come to you to learn where he is, with instructions from Mr. Rogers to pay you for the trouble you have been at, and for whatever further assistance you may render him," I replied.
"Yes, yes; well—I should—should rather like to see Mr. Rogers first," drawlingly responded he; and I felt that I was in the hands of a practised scoundrel, as well as a practising lawyer, and I resolved to bring matters to a focus at once; and so I inquired, "Well, sir, what is your bill for past services, and what will you demand for pointing out Mr. Hague? Is he here with you?"
"No, he's not in this quarter now. I mean he lives in another State," returned he, hurriedly; for that word "now" had escaped his lips undesignedly.
"Well, I reckon I shall have to charge Mr. Rogers five hundred dollars for the trouble I've been at. It has cost a great deal of anxiety."