But he began to speak in a suave way, “oily,” Betty called it afterwards:
“I’m not here to take much of your time, Mr. Lee, but I was directed to you by some one who thought you could tell me about where I could find a boy that was going here by the name of Ramon Balinsky.”
“Yes?” returned Mr. Lee, waiting for more explanation. Betty dropped the little cushion she was making and leaned forward, exchanging a glance with her mother.
The man hesitated, expecting a more enthusiastic reply, it might be presumed. But Betty could imagine the calm but cool expression with which her father was regarding the stranger, having courteously and kindly brought him in.
“Do you know him, Mr. Lee?”
“Yes, I know to whom you refer. He was a nice lad, looked after my car for me at times.”
“Yes. I found the garage where he worked and found that he went to school here for awhile. Well, do you know where he is now?”
“That might be hard to say. Perhaps you will explain your interest in him.”
Betty, tense, hoped that her father would not tell about the letter. Perhaps this was somebody that wanted to hurt Ramon! There was that story that Ramon was running away from some one, or that he was after somebody himself. Mrs. Lee made a little gesture and smiled at Betty. It meant, “Calm yourself, little daughter,” and Betty leaned back in her chair with a soft sigh. Good for her father. He wasn’t going to tell everything he knew unless he was sure that it was all right.
“I have good news for him. Some of his mother’s Spanish property has been recovered, that is, certain papers found. I was a lawyer, you call it, for the Sevillas.”