"Oh, I ain't bad, Maggie," said the dying detective bravely. "The chief's going to have me sent to the hospital, and I'll be all right in a week."

But before midnight he died.

An hour later Ted met the chief of detectives.

"Get into my car," said the chief, "and come down to my office, and we'll have a talk."

In a short time they were at the Four Courts, the big central police station of St. Louis, and when they were in the chief's private office and the door barred to intruders the great detective turned inquiringly to Ted.

"Now, who are you, and how did you happen to be mixed up in that mess?"

asked Desmond.

"My name is Ted Strong," began Ted.

Suddenly Chief Desmond sat up straight and looked at Ted sharply.

"Not the leader of the broncho boys, are you?" he asked.

"The same," said Ted.

"I know about you. What were you doing near those detectives, that you should have got in so handily?"

"I'm a deputy United States marshal, as perhaps you know."

Desmond nodded. "Yes, I know," he said.

"I was working on this very case," said Ted, "and I had got hold of one end of it, and was about to follow it to a conclusion, when I saw the man Checkers on the street, and was following him. He led me to the detectives. The minute I saw them and him, I knew there would be something doing."

"What did you know of Checkers?"

"Nothing at all, except that he knew somehow that I was working on the express-robbery cases, and yesterday he shadowed my partner and me to East St. Louis, where we left him behind in an automobile."

Ted then told the chief how he had come about taking possession of the red car, to which Desmond listened carefully. When Ted had finished, Desmond rose and paced the room for a minute.

"Young man, you've got the big end of the chase," he said. "Dude Wilc.o.x is the man who we are positive killed the messenger and got away with the swag. If it were you who found out how he got away with it, you will have got the last of the gang."

"Is that all there is to it?" asked Ted.

"Lord bless you, no. That's only the bunch that has been working in St.

Louis. The big end of it is operating from some town farther west.

There's where Dude Wilc.o.x came from. I don't know where they make their headquarters, and it is out of my territory. I have all I can do to take care of St. Louis."

"The government officers were of the opinion that St. Louis was headquarters."

"That was true up to a few weeks ago, but we made it so hot for them here that they emigrated."

"Well, there's no use in my staying here any longer. I might as well hike out west. I'm not much good in a big town, anyway. I suppose you'll have no trouble in handling Checkers without any word from me."

"Oh, yes. But let's have Checkers up and hear what he has to say for himself."

The chief pushed a b.u.t.ton and presently an officer entered.

"Go down to the hold-over and bring Checkers to me," ordered the chief.

In less than ten minutes the officer was back again.

"The jailer says he has no such man, chief," was the report.

"Where is he?"

"I'll inquire."

Back he came in a few minutes.

"Casey had him on the corner waiting for the wagon, sir, but in the excitement during the fight Casey let go of Checkers for a moment, and he got away."

Ted could see that the chief was very angry, but he controlled his temper admirably.

"Very well," was all he said.

He turned and gave Ted a sharp look.

"If you stay around here much longer, you'll have to look out for Checkers. He's a dangerous man, as well with a knife as with a gun."

"I guess I can take care of him," answered Ted.

"You look as if you could, lad," said the chief.

After a few more minutes of conversation regarding the red motor car, during which the chief advised Ted to keep the car until he was through with it, Ted took his leave, and returned to the hotel.

There he found Bud pacing the floor.

"Peevish porcupines," grunted the old cow-puncher, "but you've got yourself in up to ther neck in printer's ink."

"How's that?" asked Ted.

"Haven't you seen the evening papers?"

"I've been too busy to look at them."

"I reckon you be. Busier than a cranberry merchant. Look at this."

Bud handed Ted a bundle of evening papers.

Of course, the fight between the detectives and the bandits was given an immense amount of s.p.a.ce in the extras which followed one another rapidly from the presses. In all of them were accounts of Ted's going to the rescue of the detectives, and the statement that b.a.l.l.s from Ted's revolver had killed two of the gang.

"Rubbish!" said Ted. "I didn't kill any bandits. I took a couple of shots at them after they had fired on me, that's all."