"Don't know of any lawyer at that address? Lots of lawyers in that building. Might be one of them, you know."
It was exactly that, Peewee felt certain. He watched Beman's eyes and they showed that Beman knew it was a lawyer. "I don't know," he replied.
"Don't know who's advertising, you mean?"
"No, sir," Peewee iterated determinedly. He had, considering his youth, a disproportionate knowledge of lawyers; they had apparently no business of their own, therefore they were forced to occupy their time with other people's business. The authorities would not be advertising for Peewee through a lawyer. It must be, then, either Lampert or his father that this lawyer represented. Peewee hoped that it was not his father. He was more unwilling to deal with his father than with Lampert. The uneasiness which made him almost sure that it was his father, provoked a dispiriting anxiety. It appeared likely that Beman, knowing who Peewee was and who his father was, would deliver Peewee over to his father.
