nking, I fancy, of his brother. But we did not get
to Gorman's brother for more than a week.

Having got my consent, Gorman went off to "set" Ascher. I use the word
"set" deliberately, for Gorman, when bent on getting anything done,
reminds me of a well-trained sporting dog. He ranges, quarters the
ground in front of him and finally--well, he set me as if I had been a
grouse. He set Ascher, I have no doubt, in the same way.

I did not think it likely that he would secure the Aschers. Millionaires
are usually shy birds, well accustomed to being pursued by all sorts
of ordinary men. They develop, I suppose, a special cunning in avoiding
capture, a cunning which the rest of us never achieve. However Ascher's
cunning was no use to him in this case. Gorman is an exceedingly clever
dog.

The trumpet, bugle, cornet, or whatever the instrument is which
announces meals at sea, was blaring out its luncheon tune when Gorman
returned to me. He was in high triumph. He had captured the Aschers,
reserved the nicest table in the upper saloon and secured the
exclusive service of the best table steward in the ship. I think he had
interviewed the head cook. I began to appreciate Gorman's qualities as a
travelling companion. His handling of the servants of the Cunard Company
during the voyage was masterly. I never was so well looked after before,
though I always make it a practice to tip generously.

Gorman proposed that we should have another whisky and soda before going
down to luncheon. He is a genial soul. No churl would want to drink two
glasses of whisky in the early part of one day. When I refused he looked
disappointed.

On the way down to luncheon he asked the lift boy how his mother had got
over her operation. It would never have occurred to me that the lift
boy had a mother. If I had thought the matter out carefully I might have
reached the conclusion that there must be or at one time have been a
mother for every lift boy in the world. But Gorman did not reason. He
simply knew, and knew too that this particular lift boy's mother had
been in a Liverpool hospital, a fact which no method of reasoning known
to me would have enabled him to arrive.

The lift boy loved Gorman. His grins of delight showed that. Our table
steward, a very competent young man, adored him. The head cook--I
judged by the meals we had sent up to us--had a very strong personal
affection for Gorman. I do not wonder. I am myself fond of Gorman now.
So is