"Thank you," said Ben.
They were silent for a long time. Pedestrians, singly and in pairs, sauntered past on the walk. Vehicle after vehicle scurried by in the street. At last a team of brown thoroughbreds, with one man driving, drew up in front of the house. The man alighted, tied the horses to the stone hitching-post, and came up the walk. Simultaneously Ben saw the curtains at the library window sway as though in a sudden breeze.
"Splendid horses, those," he commented.
"Yes," answered Scotty, wishing he were somewhere else just then. "Yes," he repeated, absently.
"Good-evening, Mr. Baker!" said the smiling driver of the thoroughbreds.
"Good-evening," echoed Scotty. Then, with a gesture, he indicated the passive Benjamin. "My friend Mr. Blair, Mr. Sidwell."
Sidwell mounted the steps. Ben arose. The library curtains trembled again. The two men looked each other fairly in the eyes and then shook hands.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Blair," said Sidwell.
"Thank you," responded Ben, evenly.
Down in the depths of his consciousness, Scotty was glad this frontier youth had seen fit to come to town. Taking off his big glasses he polished them industriously.