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.