"Welmore!" he almost screamed. He turned white as a sheet and cowered back.
"Yes, Jasper Lane--false friend, perjurer and thief," flashed out the other. "You cared for Dick Welmore? You expended your means on him? Where is the two thousand dollars I left you for his education?"
"Keep him off--don't let him touch me," pleaded the other man.
"Pah!" coarsely uttered the reformatory man, giving Lane a disgusted push to one side. "Mister," he continued, addressing Lane's accuser, "if there's been crooked business here, we didn't know it."
"There has been," affirmed the other. "My boy wrote me about it. I have hastened from the Philippines to right his wrongs. This creature, Lane, accused him falsely, had him imprisoned. I secured the proofs of it before I came here to find my son Dick Welmore."
"Well," said the officer, "your boy will have to go with me, but if you can prove what you say, the court will not long hold him."
"You, Jasper Lane," spoke Mr. Welmore sternly, "you do not leave my side till you have righted my boy."
"I'll do it, I'll do it! Don't expose me, don't ruin my reputation!" whined Jasper Lane.
"There is Markham--Dick--now," announced Frank, as a cheery whistle sounded outside.
The next moment Markham entered the room, grew pale as he first noticed Lane, saw his father, and flew to his parent's arms with a wild cry of delight.
"Father," he said, leading Mr. Welmore towards Frank, "this is Frank Newton, the best friend I ever had in the world."
"Seen your sign outside--Boy Wanted--I need a job."
Frank did not look up from the letter he was reading to give attention to the applicant for work.
It was a very interesting letter for Frank, for it was from Dick Welmore, or Markham, as we have known him.
It told that the youth had been completely vindicated and released, and would be back at his business post of duty in the morning.
It also enclosed an item cut from a city paper, telling of the arrest and conviction of Dale Wacker for robbing street mail boxes.
"All right," said Frank now, for the first moment glancing at the boy he had requested to be seated. "Want work, do you--Why, Nelson Cady!"
"It's me, yes," confessed Frank's visitor.
"Why," said Frank, "I thought you were in Idaho?"