Larry Dexter

“ Many of you have met Larry before. I first introduced him to you in the initial volume of this series, entitled, “Larry Dexter at the Big Flood,” and in that I told how Larry, with his mother, his sisters Lucy and Mary, and his brother James, had come to New York, after the death of Mr. Dexter, and the selling of the old farm.
Larry had always had an ambition to become a reporter on a big metropolitan paper, and, after hard work, he succeeded. ”

“ All this time the dark-complexioned stranger was walking up and down the corridor. Finally he came up to Larry, and asked:
“Is your name Larry Dexter?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the reporter.
“You’re on the Leader, aren’t you?”
“That’s the paper. Why, have you got a story?”
“No,” answered the man, with a short laugh. “I don’t deal in stories, but I see you’re wide awake, always on the lookout for ’em, eh?” ”

“ The account was copied in several papers.
“Say, there’s no use trying to get ahead of Larry Dexter,” lamented Peter Manton, when he saw the story in the Leader. “Even when he has a slip-up he manages to ‘scoop’ all the rest of us by it. I’ve a good notion to quit the game.”
“If you don’t turn in a good story pretty soon,118 you’ll quit whether you want to or not,” said the city editor of the Scorcher significantly.
Peter went out with a fierce determination to unearth new clews to the stolen boy and beat Larry, but his efforts amounted to nothing. ”

“ Most unexpected things happen to newspaper reporters. That is one reason why, in spite of the hard work attached to the profession, so many bright young lads like it. It was that way with Larry Dexter. It was the unexpected that he was always looking for, and nearly always he found it.
In this, the fifth book of “The Young Reporter Series,” I have related for you something that happened when Larry unexpectedly went to a concert. Before he knew it he was involved in a mystery that had to do with a stolen boy. ”

“ Grace answered it. She came back on the run, a missive in her hand.
"It's from my father!" she exclaimed, as she tore open the envelope.
Larry watched Grace while she read the letter. It was short, for she had quickly finished with it and turned to the reporter.
"He's written about you!" she exclaimed.
"About me?"
"Yes. Listen," and Grace read:
"'I am well. Still have to remain away. Don't try to find me. Will be home soon. Tell Larry Dexter to give up. He's chasing me too close.'"
"Chasing him too close!" ”

“ Suddenly he discovered that the edge of his glove was turned back. With a quick motion he buttoned the article up.
As he did so he glanced sharply at Larry, as if anxious to know whether the lad had noticed anything. Larry pretended that his shoelace needed tying, and stooped over to avoid meeting the fellow's look. As Larry straightened up he heard the stranger call out:
“Come on, Peter. There's our car,” and, before Larry could have stopped them, had he desired to, or thought it wise, they were running after it.
“Well, that's finding a man and losing him in a hurry,” thought Larry. ”

“ Do you wonder I faint, señor?”
“No, indeed!” exclaimed Larry, who had been making rapid notes of the story, with names, dates and other details that I have omitted here.
“And so they took my boy!” cried the singer. “They have stolen him from me! But with your help, good Señor Dexter, you who solved the million-dollar bank mystery, we will get him back, will we not?”
“We will!” cried Larry enthusiastically, though he knew that there was plenty of hard work ahead of him, and but a slim chance that he would be successful.
“I’ll do all I can,” he said, “and so will every one on the Leader. ”

“ When Larry was eating supper that night he happened to glance out of the window. He saw an unusual light in the sky, and first took it for a glow from some gas furnace or smelting works across on the Jersey shore. But, as he watched, the light grew more brilliant, and there was a cloud of smoke and a shower of sparks.
“That's a big fire!” he exclaimed, jumping up.
“You're not going to it, are you, Larry?” asked his mother.
“I think I'd better,” he replied. “Most of the men are working to-night, and none of them may go to the blaze. If we want a good story we must be right on the spot. ”

“ Larry said to himself, at length. “I can’t do anything alone. Anyhow, I’ve located the Rising Sun crowd. I’d better not make too much of a fuss, or they’ll suspect I’m after them, and move away.”
He hurried downstairs, wishing he could find Mr. Newton at once, instead of waiting until night, when the older reporter had promised Larry to call at the Dexter house. ”

“ Larry dodged once more, and the boxing lessons he had taken stood him in good stead.
“It’s queer he doesn’t call out for help!” mused Larry rapidly. Indeed he had but little time to think of anything else but defending himself, and getting things in shape so that he might rescue the stolen boy. Silently, but with a look of hate on his face, the man recovered himself quickly, and made another attempt to hit Larry.
“I have it!” thought the young reporter. “This man dare not call out. He knows no one would come to help him! He daren’t give himself away. ”

“ Larry felt much elated. Of course he knew it was due, in part, to the forethought of his city editor in seeing a possible situation, and rushing a man to the scene ahead of the other papers. That counts for almost as much in journalism as does getting a good story or a "scoop."
Larry received hearty congratulations from Mr. Emberg when he got back to the Leader office the next day, for, not only had the young reporter secured a fine "scoop," but he had sent in an exceptionally good story of the wreck.
"Larry, you did better than I thought you would. You've got the right stuff in you!" ”

“ He seemed very much interested in you, Larry.”
“Altogether too much,” went on Larry. “Mother, don't trust that man. Mr. Newton knows him, and says he is almost as bad a criminal as though he had been convicted.”
“Why, I'm sure he seemed real polite,” said Mrs. Dexter. “He was very nicely spoken.”
“Those are the worst kind,” said Larry. “Don't ever show him any of father's old papers, particularly the deed to the land in the Bronx.”
“Why not, Larry? Is there any chance of that land ever becoming valuable? I remember your poor father saying it would never be any good. ”

“ As the first notes of the accompaniment music burst out Larry noticed that the singer cast a glance around the big hall, and even up into the galleries.
“She’s looking for that man,” thought the young reporter. “What strange influence has he over her? What’s the mystery I’m just on the edge of, I wonder?”
Madame Androletti began to sing, and as the first few notes rippled out she cast a quick glance into the wings. Few noticed it, but Larry did, and as his eyes followed hers he saw a boy, of about ten years of age, standing behind a representation of a tree trunk, part of the stage-setting. ”

“ Larry came around to that side of the table. He looked through the half-transparent cipher, and saw below certain of the words a small, black dot. The dots were made on the back of the document, and only showed through when it was held to the light.
“We're on the track at last!” cried Mr. Newton. “Here, Larry, you write down the words I call off.”
Then, with fingers that trembled so he could scarcely hold the pencil, Larry set this down:
“To the boy who found the paper with blue marks, we give you one week to make up your mind. ”

“ Larry, too, enjoyed himself. He was particularly interested in Nero, the lion, and pointed the ugly beast out to Jimmy. The brute kept in one corner of his cage, and growled.
“His toothache bothers him yet,” explained one of the men, who remembered Larry's performance. “I guess we'll have to pull it.”
“Pull a lion's tooth?” inquired Larry. “I never heard of such a thing.”
“Often done,” replied the trainer. “Much easier than yanking one from an elephant. ”

“ Larry ventured to hint at this to some of the other reporters, but they all told him that, contrary to all expectations, there had been no politics worth mentioning discussed on the outing.
“Just make a general story of it,” advised the reporter who had held the money for Larry. “None of us are looking for a beat.”
So Larry made his mind easier. A little later the boat made a stop at a dock to let off several members who had decided to go the rest of the way home by train. The newspaper men, with the exception of Larry, decided, also, to go home on the railroad. ”

“ This was what Larry wanted.
Slowing down his engine the least bit, so as to keep in pace with the other machine and not pass it, he called across to Mr. Potter, as the two autos raced side by side:
"Mr. Potter, I bring you a message from your friends!"
"What is it?"
"It is this! 'The money is safe!'"
"Good!" cried the millionaire. "Now I don't care what these scoundrels do!"
"Father! Father!" cried Grace.
"Stop that machine!" yelled Larry to the chauffeur of the green car.
"You can't make me!" retorted the man.
"Jump into our car!" cried Fritsch to Mr. Potter. "You can do it!" ”

“ The young reporter rather startled his mother as he hurried in to tell her he was going out of town, but Mrs. Dexter had, in a measure, become used to her son doing all sorts of queer things since he had started in newspaper life.
"Will you be gone long, Larry?" she asked, as he kissed her good-bye, having packed a small valise. ”

“ He recalled the man who had rushed into their apartments to notify them of the fire, and his suspicions grew that he had heard his voice somewhere before.
“I wonder if he could be someone whom I have been to see to get a story for the paper,” thought Larry.
He reviewed as well as he could the men he had called on since he had been a reporter. None of them seemed to fit.
“I know!” the lad exclaimed to himself, as he tossed on his bed in the darkness; “he’s the man who came up while I was talking to Peter. He’s the man who kept his gloves on when he came to see mother. He’s the blue-handed man!” ”

“ I thought it strange that a man who had time to shave or get shaved should be in such a hurry. But it wasn't any of my affair, so I said nothing."
"What became of him?" Larry was quite eager now. He seemed to be on the verge of discovering something; if not of the Potter mystery then of the other, that cropped up every now and again—that of the man he had helped save from the wreck.
"He went away the next morning," Mr. Jackson resumed. "I didn't see him again until the next night. Then he told me he had a room in this tenement."
"Where?" inquired the young reporter. ”

“ Larry gradually drew the children away from the elephant inclosure, and over to where the monkeys were housed. The reporter watched, but, though he was sure the man looked after them, and noted where they went, he did not leave the spot where he was.
Mary and Jimmy found much to amuse them in the house of the primates. The funny antics of the monkeys kept the crowd in roars of laughter. Even Larry forgot about keeping his eye on Jimmy, and watched the odd contortions of the queer, half-human-looking beasts. ”

“ Thousands of persons will see the account and will be on the lookout for him. Believe me, it is the best way!"
Larry paused for breath. He had rattled all that off without giving Mrs. Potter a chance to stop him, for he wanted to present his case in the most advantageous light.
"Mamma, I believe he is right!" exclaimed Grace Potter. "I never thought of it that way before. I thought the newspaper people were horrid when any one had trouble."
"We are human," said Larry with a little laugh, and Grace smiled, though her eyes had traces of tears. ”

“ Dexter to see you right away.
"Sullivan wants to see you, Larry," went on Mr. Emberg, hanging up the telephone receiver. "This may be a big thing. Go slow and be careful of what he says. Don't let him bluff you."
"You're getting right into politics," said Mr. Newton to Larry, as the young reporter prepared to go out.
"Yes, and I'm afraid I'll get into water where I can't swim."
"Don't let that worry you. You've got to learn, and in New York politics is the most important news of all."
Larry found Sullivan in the same place where he had secured the momentous interview. ”

“ Larry took a step toward him.
“There is the million!” the absconder suddenly exclaimed, and, tossing aside a lap-robe, he disclosed a valise strapped to the seat beside him. “Take it!” he cried. “I’m glad you found me. Now maybe I’ll get some sleep!” and leaning his head on the steering-wheel, he sobbed bitterly.
It was some minutes before Larry knew what to do, for he was much affected. Then he said gently:
“Mr. Norton, you had better come back with me. If you flee it will only make it worse for you, and you will be caught in the end. Will you come?” ”

“ Larry listened. Plainly enough he could hear a woman’s voice murmuring:
“My son! My boy! My little Lorenzo!” Then followed something in Italian.
“So, you see, there is no story for you, Señor Leader—I beg your pardon—Dexter,” spoke the manager, with a smile. “I am sorry, but you will have only to write about our concert.”
“And about Madame Androletti fainting,” added Larry, feeling rather disappointed, as all true newspaper men do at a story not “panning out.” It is not through heartlessness that they25 are thus regretful, but because it is their profession to hunt out news. ”

“ Standing at a window of one of the rear rooms of the boarding-house was a man, a man whose face Larry could see was smooth-shaven. But, even as Larry watched he saw the man fit on his lower jaw a big, black, false beard. Then he looked in the glass as if to note the effect. Larry saw the whole scene plainly.
“By Jove!” whispered the young reporter to himself. “I believe I’m on the trail at last! There is the man with the black beard, and here are the bricks that are like those in the valise! What’s my next move? The trail is getting hot!” ”