Chapter Seventeen
In His Mother's Arms.
The lack of trust which Peewee had in Beman now thrust itself upon him disturbingly. He looked apprehensively about the room, as the old man led him in and the door was closed behind them. Jeffrey Markyn came toward him and put his finger under Peewee's chin and turned his small face up and studied it. He looked from it to his brother, where he sat beside Mrs. Markyn, holding her hand. She smiled in a strained way to greet the boy. She was very pale. What had they said to her, Peewee wondered, that had made her look like this? Beman, still holding Peewee by the hand, seated himself in his big chair and drew the boy between his knees.
"Now, Mr. Rollins," he invited.
The man who had come with the "flat-foot"
