But the station agent did not come to supper and Scott ate the atrocious food in lonely state still trying to solve this mystery. In any event he had shown the Waits just how much they could count on his friendship and that was worth something. It was also some satisfaction to know that they were probably as much troubled as he was.
Alone in his room he pondered the problem for an hour without coming any nearer to a solution. Finally the suspense became unbearable. He determined to go to old man Sanders and see if he could offer any explanation. It was growing dusk when he went out and objects seemed a little indistinct in the distance. He glanced toward the place where Hopwood had been waiting for him in the afternoon, but there was no trace of him now.
Both stores apparently were deserted. Scott had not seen a soul when he turned into the road which led up to Sanders’ little cabin. He thought that he had never known the woods to be so silent. It seemed as though every living thing must have left the country. But there was a light in Sanders’ cabin. The full moon peeped at him over the trees behind the house. He knocked on the door and heard the old man shuffling across the floor to open it.
“Good evening,” Scott said as the door swung wide. “You see I have come back to you for advice pretty quick.”
“Come in, come in,” the old man said cordially. “Glad to see you.” He motioned Scott to one of the old-fashioned chairs. When they were comfortably seated he spoke again.
“You said you came here for advice. Let me give you a little before I forget it. It happens to be perfectly safe for any one to knock on my door at any time of the day or night, but don’t try it anywhere else. You would probably find yourself looking down the barrel of a gun if the dogs did not chew you up first. It is the custom in this country to stand outside the gate and shout.”
“Thanks,” Scott replied gratefully. “I am very anxious to learn the customs of this country. There seem to be some customs here I do not understand. That is what brought me up here to-night. What does it mean when a big bully of a man hauls a girl around the street by the hair while twenty others look on and do nothing?”
The old man straightened up in his chair. “What’s all this?” he asked sharply.
Scott explained as fully as he could and the old man listened breathlessly to every word. When Scott had finished his story the old fellow sank back in his chair with wrinkled brow.
“So that was how it happened,” he muttered to himself. “The girl has more sense than I thought she had.” Then he spoke aloud to Scott. “I heard a little something of this but I did not know that you had anything to do with it. It’s a wonder to me that you are here to tell it.”