een a
dead person, and never a victim of violence. The peculiar circumstances
increased the effect upon his mind.

He placed his hand upon the man's face, and found that he was still
warm. He could have been dead but a short time.

"What shall I do?" thought Carl, perplexed. "This is terrible!"

Then it flashed upon him that as he was alone with the dead man
suspicion might fall upon him as being concerned in what might be called
a murder.

"I had better leave here at once," he reflected. "I shall have to go
away without paying for my meal."

He started to leave the house, but had scarcely reached the door when
two persons--a man and a woman--entered. Both looked at Carl with
suspicion.

"What are you doing here?" asked the man.

"I beg your pardon," answered Carl; "I was very hungry, and seeing
no one about, took the liberty to sit down at the table and eat. I am
willing to pay for my dinner if you will tell me how much it amounts
to."

"Wasn't my husband here?" asked the woman.

"I--I am afraid something has happened to your husband," faltered Carl.

"What do you mean?"

Carl silently pointed to the chamber door. The woman opened it, and
uttered a loud shriek.

"Look here, Walter!" she cried.

Her companion quickly came to her side.

"My husband is dead!" cried the woman; "basely murdered, and there,"
pointing fiercely to Carl, "there stands the murderer!"

"Madam, you cannot believe this!" said Carl, naturally agitated.

"What have you to say for yourself?" demanded the man, suspiciously.

"I only just saw--your husband," continued Carl, addressing himself to
the woman. "I had finished my meal, when I began to search for some one
whom I could pay, and so opened this door into the room beyond, when I
saw--him hanging there!"

"Don't believe him, the red-handed murderer!" broke out the woman,
fiercely. "He is probably a thief; he killed my poor husband, and then
sat down like a cold-blooded villain that he is, and gorged himself."

Things began to look very serious for poor Carl.

"Your husband is larger and stronger than myself," he urged,
desperately. "How could I overpower him?"

"It looks reasonable, Maria," said the man. "I don't see how the boy
could have killed Mr. Brown, or lifted him upon the hook, even if he did
not resist."

"He murdered him, I tell you, he murdered him!" shrieked the woman, who
seemed bereft of reason. "I call upon you to arrest him."

"I am not a constable, M