A scared, dismayed look was on his face as he clutched his mother's arm and whispered:
“Ma, Philip is sitting just back of us.”
Mrs. Brent's heart almost ceased to beat. She saw that the moment of exposure was probably at hand.
With pale face she whispered:
“Has he seen us?”
“He is looking right at us.”
She had time to say no more. Philip left his seat, and coming forward, approached the seat of his step-mother.
“How do you do, Mrs. Brent?” he said.
She stared at him, but did not speak.
“How are you, Jonas?” continued our hero.