"Wait—somebody is coming out of the house," returned our hero.
"It's Mr. Bulson himself," said George Van Pelt.
He hurried forward, followed by Nelson, and the pair met the young man on the steps of his bachelor abode.
Homer Bulson was a tall, slim young fellow, with light hair and blue eyes. His face was somewhat weak, but in his eyes was a look full of scheming cunning. He was faultlessly dressed in the latest fashion, wore a silk hat, and carried a gold-headed cane.
"Mr. Bulson, I must see you about these books," said George Van Pelt, coming to a halt on the steps of the stone porch.
"I told you before that I did not wish to be bothered," answered the young man coldly.
"But you ordered the books, sir."
"I will not discuss the matter with you. Go away, and if you bother me again I shall call a policeman."
"My friend hasn't done anything wrong," put in Nelson boldly. "You ordered some books from him, and you ought to pay for 'em."