Mrs. Scarlet asked the question with a puzzled stare. She was possessed of a very suspicious nature, and she was not ready to accept a person on outward appearance alone.
"I'm William Sugg, from Missoury," the old man answered promptly. "I came all the way to Shecargo to see the aunt of a friend. Mebbe you'll understand when I tell you, that Martin Skidway was one of the best friends an old man like me had in the bastile."
The name of her nephew opened the way to Madge Scarlet's heart at once.
She questioned Mr. Sugg about the young man, and he answered her with the assurance that they had been inmates of the same prison, and that Martin was losing flesh rapidly from melancholy.
"It's the doings of that devil, Dyke Darrel," cried Mrs. Scarlet, losing her temper at thought of her troubles.
"I've kind o' thought, bein' as I was in Shecargy, I'd look up a boardin' place and stay a spell. I've heerd that you have rooms to rent?"
"I have, to the right ones."
"Will you show me some?"
"Certainly."
Mrs. Scarlet rose and lifted a lamp from the table.