McAllister and His Double

by Arthur Cheney Train

McAllister, almost desperate, fretted and fumed until half past two, when the choir and missionary finally departed.

"Only a 'arf 'our, sir, an' we can get some more hexercise," said Wilkins encouragingly.

But McAllister did not want exercise. He swung to his feet, and peering disconsolately through the bars was suddenly confronted by an anæmic young woman holding an armful of flowers. Before he could efface himself she smiled sweetly at him.

"My poor man," she began confidently, "how sorry I am for you this beautiful Christmas Day! Please take some of these; they will brighten up your cell wonderfully; and they are so fragrant." She pushed a dozen carnations and asters through the bars.

McAllister, utterly dumfounded, took them.

"What is your name?" continued the maiden.

"Welch!" blurted out our bewildered friend.

There was a stifled snort from the bunk behind.

"Good-by, Welch. I know you are not really bad. Won't you shake hands with me?"

She thrust her hand through the bars, and McAllister gave it a perfunctory shake.