Nevil Senior was standing at a wide, low work bench in the main barn right where his wife said he’d be. He was wrenching on what appeared to be some sort of gear box and cursing at it when I walked in.
“Mr. Harper?”
He didn’t turn to me but kept to his task.
“Mr. Harper, I need to talk to you.” I came up alongside of him. His eyes flitted to me and then back to the box.
“It’s important that I find your son.”
“I ain’t stopping you.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“How would I know that? I ain’t known what that boy was all about ever since he up and decided he wanted to be a mechanic and not a farmer. Don’t understand him at all.”
“When did you see him last?”
“Can’t you see I’m busy here? I’m having to do work he should be here doing. Why don’t you check with that w***e he seems to thin
