It was with some surprise that Larry found a dollar extra in his pay envelope Friday afternoon, for it was on that day that the assistant cashier used to come around with the salaries. There was a five-dollar bill and two one-dollar bills, and Larry, who since his first raise had been getting six dollars a week, thought a mistake had been made.  
He went to Mr. Newton at the first opportunity and told him about it, asking his advice.
 
“You’d better speak to Mr. Emberg about it before you hand the extra money back,” said the reporter, with a smile.
 
“Eh? What’s that?” asked Mr. Emberg, when Larry, in hesitating tone, mentioned the matter. “An extra dollar, eh? Well, that’s all right, Larry. That’s a reward for your good work in the tunnel. I heard yesterday about you opening the door. Some of the workmen who knew it was closed found it opened, and knew you must have done it. I want to say that the Leader appreciates such efforts. And the only way we122 can show appreciation is by giving people more money. So you’ll get seven dollars a week now. I hope it will be much more in time.”
 
Larry glowed with pleasure, more at the kind words than at the increase in wages, though, of course, that was very welcome.
 
“My, you’re getting rich,” said Lucy that night when, at the supper table, he told of his good fortune.
 
“I mean to be, some day,” spoke Larry confidently. “I want to be rich enough to hire that big doctor that’s coming to New York soon, so he can cure you.”
 
“I’m afraid there’s no hope for me,” replied Lucy, turning her head so as to hide her tears. Her pain had been worse lately, though she had not complained.
 
Mrs. Dexter was much rejoiced over her son’s advancement, for every bit of money was needed. She could not earn a great deal, and there was much food to buy as well as clothing for the children. She had saved about one hundred dollars of the money she had had when she came to New York, but this she had put away in case of sickness.
 
It was now about the middle of September. Larry had kept up his studies with the professor and had made good progress.
 
“The night schools open next week,” said Mr. Carlton one evening, after he and Larry had123 closed the books. “I suppose you are going to start in.”
 
“Yes, sir,” said Larry, “and I’m very much obliged for the help you have given me.”
 
“I was only too glad to do it,” replied the professor. “I hope you will get on well in your classes. If you need help come to me.”
 
Larry learned from the professor the proper night school to apply at on the evening the term opened. It was some distance from the house where Larry lived. He started off with well wishes from his mother.
 
He found quite a crowd of boys around the doors, for the school had not yet opened. The youngsters were skylarking, laughing, shouting, and playing tricks. It was almost like a day school, Larry thought, except that the boys were bigger, for all of them worked in the daytime. Some came from a desire to educate themselves, but a number were obliged to attend under the factory laws. These laws provided that if a boy went to work too young he must make up for it by attending night school.
 
It was these latter lads who seemed to be making the most fun. They evidently did not care much about the lessons.
 
“Here comes another!” cried a voice, as Larry walked down the street toward the school. “Let’s make him run the gauntlet!”
 
“Line up!” shouted several, and they formed a124 narrow path, with boys on either edge of the sidewalk, making a lane which Larry would have to pass through. At first he did not appreciate what was up, but when he saw the lads raise bundles of books or papers, and prepare to hit him as he passed along, he knew what was coming.
 
It was fashioned after the gauntlet the Indians used to force their prisoners to run through, only in the olden days death was often the end of the game. Here it was mainly for fun, though sometimes very rough.
 
“Soak him now!” cried several as Larry reached the head of the line and started through the lane of boys.
 
At first Larry hesitated. Then he realized that if he turned back the boys might call him a coward. And he felt that if he was to go to school with them it would be an unpleasant thing to bear that name. So he resolved to run the gauntlet, come what might.
 
Shielding his head with his upraised arms he entered the lane. Thick and fast the blows rained on him. Most of them came from bundles of paper and did not hurt much. As books, however, came down on Larry’s head they made him wince. But he only joined in the shouts of glee and made up his mind not to care.
 
“He’s game all right!” cried several of the older lads. “Soak him, fellers!”
 
“Whoop!” yelled the crowd, with as much vim125 as did ever the Indians shout over the discomfiture of a captive.
 
Larry was halfway down the line. He got some pretty hard knocks there, as the bigger lads we............