Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 206, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 September 1914 — WELTON, THE TRAITOR [ARTICLE]

WELTON, THE TRAITOR

By WILLIAM J. JACKSON.

(Copyright.) ‘‘There is somjething strangely familiar about that figure!” Thomas Arkley, real estate broker, 'was fighting his way home to supper through the deep snow and the bluster of a squally winter night At the Baptist church corner he glanced across High street before going over. On the other side, in the half shelter of a wall-angle and under the glare of an electric light, he saw’ a tall, heavily built figure of a man, slouch-hatted and awkwardly bent over. He was minus an overcoat, and stood with his hands thrust deep in his pockets, the collar of his sack coat futilely' turned up against the storm. Possessed with the notion that he knew the man, Arkley passed close to him. “A bad night, friend,” the broker essayed genially, at the same time peering keenly into the face that was lifted slightly at the sound of his voice. "Jim Welton’*’ he ejaculated, with sudden recognition. “Well, of all the meetings in the world! How are you, Jim?” Arkley’s hand had been thrust out ■with instant and genuine cordiality. Jim Welton was one of the lads Arkley, by sheer force of kindliness, had drafted into a Sunday School class •In former years; He did not forget those boys, good, bad, or indifferent, and though it was five years since he had shaken hands with Welton there was no hint of strangeness in his greeting. Welton’s hand came out of his pocket very, slowly. Arkley understood ■ perfectly. When a man has been in prison for five years he is, to say the least, apt to be shy. But the hand came, nevertheless. No one had ever been able to resist the whole-souled broker. Welton not only shook hands, but, when Arkley linked arms with him, suffered himself to be led. “You’re coming right home with me to supper, Welton,” he declared. “I won’t take ‘No’ for an answer, unless,” he qualified—"unless I’m making a nuisance of myself. You haven’t anything on hand that It would interfere with, have you?” “I was just on my way to see—a friend,” Welton admitted slowly. “But I guess our business can wait for a while.” • He appeared content to let matters shape themselves. “Good!” Arkley approved. “We’ll have a nice supper together and afterward we’ll smoke and talk over things. I want to hear all about you.” Mrs. Arkley was ignorant of the very first detail in the life of Welton. To her he was only a business acquaintance of her husband. When the two, after a meal in which Welton did not talk much, retired to the comfortable room where the broker had business conferences on occasion, she did not intrude. "Welton, I always believed in you,” Arkley insisted, as he passed the cigars round. “I always thought you innocent,” he said. “Let’s talk on that basis.” Welton nodded his understanding and murmured his thanks. “There are some who don’t think so,” he grimly commented. “I met Mrs. Greene this afternoon. She recognized me and stepped off the sidewalk so quickly she nearly fell. You would have thought a bumblebee had stung her, the way the expression of her face changed. Tom Gardner knew me, too, but you wouldn’t have thought it from the way he didn’t look at me/’ Welton continued. It was an unhappy subject for discussion. Arkley hastened to change IL

/‘What are you going to do?" he Queried. “I don’t ask out of mere curiosity; I want to help you if I can.” • Welton, puffing hard on the cigar, got up and strode across the room before he replied. As he turned about he burst out impetuously: *‘l have partly tested that question. Been —been out now about three months. Had a place clerking for a contractor for a week. At the end of that time I knew from his expression when he paid me off that some pious rascal had given him my pedigree. That has happened twice. Three times I have lost places just suited to me for. the want of references, and lour jobs have been taken from me because I wasn’t competent," Arkley ventured a grunt of sympathy here and there as Welton talked; but he let the ex-convict go on without any more decided interruption. > _ "To tell you the truth, Mr. Arkley," he confided, as he sat himself down suddenly in front of his old teacher, "I had given up when I met you tonight Of course," he grinned in selfpity, “I’ve had lots of flfiances to make money in the way jailbirds are supposed to prefer. Made some business acquaintances during my sojourn, and they’ye been generous with their suggestion of partnership.” "I take it," Arkley drawled, “that •this friend you were going to see was one of the gentlemen who had offered a partnership.” The broker sent a curl of smoke toward the ceiling as he leaned back, musingly in his chair. “Just so,"' Welton admitted. "The partnership papers had been signed, so to speak. He said ha knew where to get enough money to declare a very comfortable dividend. We were going after HL I have never stolen a

penny in my life; but I meant to do It tonight” Arkley made no comment immediately. For a while they smoked in silence; and then Arkley avoided the subject for a while. It was sufficient for him that. Welton was content to remain as he found himself. A knock at the door was answered with a cheery invitation to enter. Mrs. Arkley opened the door far enough to apologize for the disturbance. “Mr. Masterson has just called,” she explained. “He brought those papers on the Brooks property and some money. H 6 is sorfy he didn’t get it to you before banking hours; arid he would rather not keep it in his own house. Do you want to speak to him?” “Ahem! Tell him, all right,” Arkley begged his wife in bland tones. On the whole, he would rather not have had the money in the house under the circumstances. It was not that he exactly doubted the honesty of Welton; he simply felt a sort of an ability to get superstitious about the coincidence. Of course, he couldn’t do such an obvious thing as to send the money out of the house, with Welton to overhear. He thought of going out, excusing himself to Welton, and asking Masterson to take it elsewhere. But all he did, after all, was to ask Mrs. Arkley to take care of the money. After a little more talking, and a suggestion finally from Arkley that it were better to postpone further consideration until the morning, Welton was shown to his room. He had accepted an invitation for the night while at dinner. Arkley chided himself mentally for the anxiety that took possession of him after separating from Welton. He honestly believed in the man, but the chain of coincidences held him the captive of worry. Masterson had never been afraid to keep matey overnight before. fiV Arkley did not dare his wife what kept him wakeful. If she had but the inkling of an idea that an exconvict was in the house —Arkley didn’t know just what she would do—so he kept the matter to himself. He was obliged to make a pretense of sleeping to keep the good lady from suspecting something unusual; but he lay awake a long while, wondering and at times listening. It was only what might have been expected, however, that after a very wearing day he fell asleep in spite of his fears. With his nerves on the alert, he roused quickly in the middle of the night. His wife slept on peacefully as he opened his eyes and saw, outlined against the dim light of the moon penetrating the shutters, a big figure stealthily rummaging the bureau drawers. It had not been Arkley’s practise to sleep with a revolver under his pillow, and, out of regard for his wife, he had not that night deviated from his rule. So he could only lie still for a moment, pondering the wisest method of dealing with the situation. When he had made up his mind to spring from bed and trust to good fortune in frightening away the intruder, he was surprised by the gentle opening of the room door. The newcomer did not make a sound. He was fully within the, room before the rummaging rascal suspected. In spite of the mask, Arkley had no trouble in recognizing the second person as Welton. He had supposed till then that of course the first was his ill-fated guest. Simulating sleeps he watched. The first intruder turned slowly about, and looked into the barrel of a revolver. Neither spoke nor made a sound; but Welton, with his thumb pointed over his shoulder, invited the first burglar to withdraw. . t Arkley waited until he thought he heard a door close downstairs. Then he quietly got up, half dressed himself, prepared to explain, if Mrs. Arkley should awake, that he was going downstairs for a drink. Arming himself, he stopped at Welton’s door. The ex-convict came quickly and quietly to open. He was fully dressed. “Did you hear any unusual noises?” Arkley queried innocently. Welton nodded. “My partner has been here,” he explained. "I was expecting him.. He evidently traced the money Masterson had turned over. You can go to sleep. I’ll watch the rest of the night” Arkley felt the anxious tension relax as he climbed into bed again. As sleep came subtly seeking a victim, he muttered to himself: “I’ll never be able to look that burglar in the face after making his partner turn traitor!”