"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 d.i.c.k 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!" coa.r.s.ely 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 d.i.c.k Welmore."
"Markham"s father!" murmured Frank.
"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--d.i.c.k--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."
"All right, in a moment. Sit down."
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 d.i.c.k 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?"
"Was--ain"t now. Never will be again," declared Nelson.
"And you have come back to try something more congenial, Nelson?"
insinuated Frank, with a friendly smile.
"Yes. I want work. Give it to me, will you?" pleaded Nelson.
"Have you been home yet?" asked Frank.
"No, nor won"t go there until I have earned enough to pay back the money my father started me out with."
"I"ll hire you, Nelson," said Frank readily, "only I must advise your father where you are."
The result of his decision to put aside roaming and adventure for practical business will be told in another volume, to be ent.i.tled "The Young Storekeeper." In that volume we shall meet Frank and some of our other friends again.
The following week Frank found that the business needed more s.p.a.ce, and closed an advantageous lease for the third floor of Main Street Block.
Right in the heart of the bustling little town, one morning, a big gilt sign announced to the public the new and enlarged quarters of FRANK"S MAIL ORDER HOUSE.
THE END.