"Gee, I wouldn't go inter that house fer a hundred million dollars."
"I've been here all night, and it didn't scare me any."
"That settles it. I reckon you must be Ted Strong. He's the only feller I ever heard of that wouldn't be scared to stay in a haunted house. How did you get there?"
Without hesitation, Ted told the boy how he had been held up by a man in an automobile, and knocked out by ammonia fumes, and then locked up in the house. But he said nothing about the murdered man in the next room.
"Now I've told you all about myself, it's only fair that you should tell me about yourself."
"Oh, I ain't nothin'. I'm just 'Scrub.'"
"Haven't you got any other name?"
"Nary one that I know of that's fastened to me all the time."
"How's that?"
"When I'm living with old man Jones, I'm Scrub Jones, and when I'm with Mr. Foster, I'm Scrub Foster, and that way. I don't belong to nobody, an' I just live around doing chores for my keep. Just now I ain't got no place to stop, and I'm sleeping in hay-stacks and living on apples and turnips and potatoes, when I make a fire and bake 'em, and once in a while I trap a rabbit. But, gee, what a good time you must have!"