Victor faced him with instant resentment of this familiarity. "Who are you? What do you want here?" he demanded.
The other, a tall, clumsy, broad-faced individual in costly clothing, seemed surprised and a little alarmed. "I came to see Mrs. Ollnee," he explained. "Who are you?"
"I am her son—and I want to know how you dare to push into my mother's house like this!"
"My name is Pettus," he answered, pacifically. "No doubt you've heard your mother speak of me."
"Oh yes," responded the youth. "I heard Mr. Carew speak of you. You're president of that Transportation Company they're all so wild about."
A shade of apprehension passed over Pettus's fat, ugly face. "Carew! You've seen him? I suppose he gave me a bad name? But never mind—where will I find your mother?"
Victor didn't like the man, and he remained silent till Pettus repeated his question, then he answered, "I can't tell you where my mother is."
"You mean you won't!"
"Well, yes, that's what I do mean."
Pettus turned away. "I can find her without your aid."