"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 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?"
"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.
