est," said Ted, "I'm not armed."

"How come yuh here?"

"I was made insensible by ammonia fumes and brought here last night."

"How come yuh ter kill that man in ther next room?"

"I didn't kill him."

"That's a likely story. I find yuh alone in ther house with him. Yuh'll
hev ter answer ter ther magistrate fer this."

"See here, my friend, how could I have killed that man, then come in
here, and locked and barred the door on the outside?"

"He's got yuh there, Si," said one of the men.

"Look here," said Ted, showing his star. "I'm an officer of the law. The
fellows who captured and brought me here were robbers, and I was on
their trail. That's all there is to it. Now, let me pass. I want to see
what is in the next room."

CHAPTER XVIII.

STELLA ADOPTS A BROTHER.

Taking up a lantern, Ted entered the room. Beside the overturned table
lay the body of a man. It was not Checkers. There was nothing in the
room except the table, two chairs, a broken lamp, which lay in a pool of
kerosene on the floor, and the body of the murdered man.

Wait, what was this?

Beneath the table was a scrap of green.

It was a bank bill, and, drawing it forth, Ted found it to be a
fifty-dollar note issue'd by the First National Bank of Green River,
Nebraska. A valuable clew, this.

When he had searched the body of the dead man, and found several letters
and a small memorandum book, he left the room and locked it.

"Notify the coroner," said he to the constable, "and give him this key.
If he wants me as a witness in his inquest, he will find me at the
Stratford Hotel, in St. Louis."

The constable promised to carry out Ted's instructions.

"Where is that boy Scrub?" asked Ted.

"Here I am," said the boy, emerging from the crowd.

"Who knows anything about this boy?" Ted asked.

"He's just a loose kid," said the constable. "His father died when he
was young, and his mother left him a few years ago. Since then no one
has claimed him."

"Then I will. Do you want to come with me?" Ted asked the boy. "I will
give you a good home and clothes, teach you something, and make a
useful man of you. Is he a good boy?"

Ted turned to the men about him.

"Yes, Scrub is a good boy, only he never ain't had no chance," seemed to
be the universal verdict.

"Say the word, Scrub. Do you want to come with me?"

"You bet," said Scrub fervently.

"Good! Come along! We'll be getting back to St. Louis."

"But yuh can't get back