Larry Dexter, Reporter/Chapter 8

night Larry questioned his mother closely about the visit Mr. Perkins said he had paid her.

“I didn't know his name,” said Mrs. Dexter, in telling her story. “He came to the door, and asked if you were my son. Then he said a reporter's life was a hard one, and asked me if I didn't think you had better get a position somewhere else. I thought he was a friend of yours, and when he said he could give you a good job in the real estate office I thought it would be a good thing, and said so.”

“Is that all, mother?”

“Well, pretty nearly. He did ask a few questions about your father.”

“What did he want to know?”

“Well, he wanted to know where we came from, where we used to live, and whether your father ever owned any land here in New York.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said I didn't know much about it, but that I thought your father had some papers, a deed or something, to some property in the Bronx.”

“What did he say to that?”

“He didn't say much, only he appeared to be interested. He wanted to see the deed, but I couldn't find it. I remember we had it one night, and I told him I thought we burned it up. Didn't we destroy it, Larry?”

“We were going to, but, don't you remember, I said it might be a good thing to save?” said Larry. “I have it put away.”

“I wish I had known it,” went on Mrs. Dexter. “I would have shown it to the man. 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. He was always sure he would never get any money out of it, as it is in the middle of a swamp. Do you think it will make us rich, Larry?”

“Hardly that, mother. In fact, it may never amount to anything. I doubt if we have even a good claim to it, as I don't believe the taxes have been paid for a number of years.”

“Then what good is it to keep the deed? Don't land go to the city if you don't pay taxes?”

“Sometimes. In fact, I guess it always does. But there is some mystery about this, mother. I don't know what it is, but I am going to find out.”

“Oh, I hope there is nothing wrong about us having the deed, Larry. I'm sure if your poor father knew there was anything wrong about it, he would never have taken the land.”

“There is not likely to be anything wrong, as far as we are concerned,” said Larry. “But, from two or three things that have happened lately, I am sure there is a mystery connected with that land. In some way we are involved, because we hold the deed. I am going to tell Mr. Newton all about it, and perhaps he can help us straighten it out.”

“Wouldn't it be fine if the land turned out to be a gold mine,” put in Jimmy, who was listening with wide-opened eyes to what his mother and brother were talking of, and only dimly comprehending it.

“An' diamonds and ice cream mines,” put in Mary, who was staying up past her bedtime.

“It would be fine,” said Larry. “But I think it is more likely to be a sandbank. In fact, I think the sandman has been around here lately, and has been throwing some of his dust in someone's eyes,” and he caught Mary up in his arms, and kissed her.

“There's no sand in my eyes,” said Jimmy, rubbing them violently, to prove the contrary.

“My, it's getting late; it's after nine o'clock!” exclaimed Mrs. Dexter. “Time you children were in bed.”

“I'll undress Mary,” said Lucy, laying aside her sewing.

“I'm going to undress myself,” put in Jimmy, who was growing to be quite a lad.

Soon the two children were in the land of nod, and Lucy returned to the sitting-room, where her mother and brother were still talking.

“Do you really think this man had some hidden motive?” asked Lucy of her brother.

“I'm sure of it; or else why should he be so persistent? He evidently wanted to get possession of the deed.”

“Why do you think he offered you such a good position?” went on Lucy.

“He probably wanted to get me into his office, and then have me give him the deed, under pretense of examining it. Once he had it I guess we would never see it again.”

“Well, it's a strange affair,” said Mrs. Dexter, with a sigh. “I hope it will be explained soon.”

“It will, sooner or later,” spoke Larry, with a confidence he hardly felt.

When Larry met Mr. Newton the next day, and told the older reporter about the conversation Perkins had had with Mrs. Dexter, Mr. Newton said:

“Things are working out the way I expected. Now, Larry, my boy, we must say nothing, and saw wood, as they say in France. If this thing pans out it will be one of the biggest deals ever undertaken. There may be something in it for your family, and there certainly will be a big story in it for the Leader.

“But we must keep very quiet. If it leaks out that we suspect something, or that we are on the track of the men I believe to be behind the matter, we will lose everything. So, first of all, guard that deed carefully. Next, tell your mother to hold no conversation with men who may call at the house to inquire about your father's affairs. Lastly, do no talking yourself on this subject. I will work hard to stop the game I suspect they are trying to play, but I feel I need your help.”

“Do you think it involves the land my father owns, or at least the land for which we have a deed?”

“I am almost certain of it. If it is what I believe, there is much money in it.”

“For whom?” asked the lad. “I hope some of it will come my way.”

“Well, part of it may,” rejoined Mr. Newton. “But the men back of it intend the main share for themselves and the boodle aldermen and land sharps associated with them. So be on your guard, Larry. We can't have you kidnapped again,” and Mr. Newton smiled at the recollection of the fate that once befell Larry in the early stages of his work for the Leader, in connection with the cab strike.

“I'll watch out,” replied the young reporter.

Larry had plenty to do that day, and, having an afternoon assignment to cover—a meeting of one of the city boards—he did not reach home until rather later than usual. As he entered the apartment he heard his mother conversing with someone in the parlor, and the voice of the visitor was a strange one.

“My dear madam,” the man was saying, “I assure you everything is open and above board. We are making you an exceptionally good offer for very poor land. In fact, if I had my way, the purchase would not be made.”

“Then why talk of it?” asked Mrs. Dexter. “I am not anxious to sell. In fact, I know very little about the land.”

“A client of mine has taken a fancy to the place,” went on the man, while Larry listened, wondering who it could be. “He has authorized me to offer you two thousand dollars for the Bronx property. That is four times what it is worth, but I want to please my friend. Will you accept my offer?”

“No, she will not!” exclaimed Larry, entering the room at that moment. “Who are you, to come here making offers for land?”

“I don't know that it concerns you,” replied the stranger, in no gentle tones. “What right have you to interfere when I am talking to this lady?” He evidently took Larry for a stranger.

“This is my son,” said Mrs. Dexter, for she did not like the man's manner.

“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said the stranger, who seemed at a loss what to say. “I did not know him. You are Larry, are you?”

“That's my name. What is your business with my mother?”

The man appeared ill at ease. He twisted about on the chair, and said:

“Did you decide to take that offer a friend of mine in the real estate business made? I called to see if you had, and I was talking to your mother about it. Incidentally I mentioned that I could sell some property I hear she owns up in the Bronx. It is a small matter, hardly worth my while to bother with.”

“Then I'd advise you not to bother with it,” spoke Larry, shortly. “We can look after our own affairs, I guess.”

The man's face flushed, and he seemed very angry. Then Larry remembered Mr. Newton's advice to be careful of what he did or said in connection with the land.

“Of course it's very good of you to think of my mother and myself,” said Larry, a little more politely. “But we have not decided what to do about that land, and I have made up my mind to stay on the Leader, so you may tell your friend I cannot accept his offer.”

“You had better think twice before you refuse my offer for the land,” the man went on. “As I said, it is of no value, particularly, but a friend of mine wants it. I might even offer you twenty-five hundred dollars for it, but that is as high as I can go. Will you take it?”

“I think not,” replied Larry, motioning to his mother to make no answer.

The reply seemed to make the man more angry than ever, and Larry could see him clench his fist, and grit his teeth.

“Would you mind letting me see the deed?” the stranger asked. “It is possible I have made a mistake, and that the land I am after is not that which you own. A glance at the deed will set me right.”

“I'm sorry, but we can't let you see the deed,” spoke Larry. “I have been told to take good care of it, and not to let strangers have it.”

“But I only want to glance at it,” said the man.

“I can't let you see it,” said the lad.

“You'll be sorry for this,” the man exclaimed. “In less than a month you'll be glad to take five dollars for the place, that is, provided you own it, which I very much doubt. You'll lose the land, and then you'll wish you had taken my offer.”

“I can't help that,” said Larry, firmly. “We will not show you the deed, nor sell you the land at present.”

“Then you can take the consequences,” snapped the man, as he went out.