During the time Oscar had worked in the store, the shop had not been kept as neat and tidy as it usually was. The tools he had found time to use now and then were scattered about over the bench; the shavings and dust had accumulated everywhere, and it was a good hour's work to straighten up things. But it was work that Oscar liked to do, and he whistled merrily as he set about it, Bugle meanwhile stationing himself in the open door and keeping a close watch over everybody that passed along the street. Presently he uttered a loud bay and sprang out into the yard.
Oscar, knowing that somebody was coming, hurried to the door to see who it was, and discovered the hound following at the heels of a little dried-up man, who was coming around the house toward the shop. It was the same man he and Sam Hynes had found clinging to the rudder of the wrecked sail-boat.
Oscar knew him at once, for he still wore Sam's cap on his head.
"Come here, Bugle!" shouted Oscar. "Don't be afraid of him, sir. He is friendly, even to strangers."
"Good-morning," exclaimed the visitor. "I knocked at the front door, but no one answered my summons. I heard someone whistling, however; so I made bold to come around here."
"Mother went out while I was absent," replied Oscar. "I am glad to see you again, sir, and hope you did not suffer any inconvenience from your cold bath on Saturday. Will you walk in? I have a fire in here. I am sorry I can't take you into the house."
The visitor made no reply whatever. He came into the wood-shed, stopped in front of the door that gave entrance into the shop, and said:
"I believe your name is—ah—is—ah——"
He thrust his hand into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a small notebook. Opening it, he began turning over the leaves to find Oscar's name, which the miller had given him on Saturday.
The book was filled with writing, and on every page the visitor seemed to find something that he wanted to remember, for he stopped to read it over, in a half audible tone, before turning to the next one.