As he passed the door of the room which he had seen the stranger enter Larry paused. He saw a light under the portal where there was a crack between the sill and the edge of the door. He also heard voices in low conversation.  
“I’d like to know what you’re up to,” thought the boy. “I’ll bet it’s no good, from the looks of that one chap.”
 
Larry noticed that the room occupied by the men was directly under his own bedroom.
 
“Maybe I can hear something from my room,” Larry thought.
 
He returned to his mother’s apartments to tell her what the janitor had said. He did not mention his own suspicions, for he did not want to cause any unnecessary alarm. When the others had retired that night Larry got out of bed, lay down on the floor of his room, and pressed his ear to the boards. At first he could distinguish nothing.
 
Then he heard a low, curious humming sound, like the roar of a railroad train going through a tunnel, only much fainter. Now and then he174 could hear blows struck as though the men were pounding a hammer on a block of wood. Occasionally he could distinguish the sound of voices, though the words were a mere jumble.
 
“They’re not ordinary lodgers, at any rate,” the boy thought.
 
He decided it was useless to listen any more, so he got into bed. He wished he had a hole or opening from his room to the one below, that he might see what was going on, and he fell into a doze with half a determination to make an aperture.
 
Larry’s duties at the office the next day kept him very busy. There was a big fire uptown and several murders and suicides. In fact it was a “great day for news,” as Mr. Emberg put it. Everyone was busy, from the reporters to the managing editor. There was much copy to carry, scores of extra proofs to bring from the composing room, and enough to keep Larry running so often that by the time afternoon came he was very tired.
 
He did not feel very much like going to night school when evening came, but he thought that if he did not he might fall behind in his studies, and this he did not want to do. So he made up his mind he would go to his class.
 
Coming home, as Larry was passing through the almost deserted streets in the neighborhood of the school, he heard loud shouts. He thought175 someone might be chasing a thief, but a few seconds later he heard the cry:
 
“Fire! Fire! Fire!”
 
Larry looked around. He saw a man running toward him. Back of him there was a lurid glow in the sky and a cloud of black smoke was rising.
 
“Pull the box!” the man cried to Larry, at the same time pointing to a red one halfway down the block.
 
“All right!” shouted Larry. “I will!”
 
He saw that the man, who was quite fat, was hardly able to run any further. The boy speeded off to the box. The key was in the door, and the next instant Larry had yanked it open and pulled down the hook. This was sufficient to set the mechanism inside the box at work, and send the signal to fire headquarters. Thence it was repeated to every engine and hook-and-ladder apparatus that was to answer, and, almost before Larry could run back to where he had seen the blaze, he heard the rattle of the steamers as they dashed up, the clanging of bells, the tooting of whistles, the ringing of the horses’ iron-shod feet on the stones, and the hoarse shouts of men.
 
The blaze proved to be a bad one in a big warehouse. Quite a crowd gathered and Larry stayed to watch the sights. He felt that his mother would not worry if he did not come right home from school, as she had often told him he could remain out until ten o’clock if he so desired.
 
176 Soon the streets were filled with trucks and steamers and several streams of water were spouting out on the blaze. With fascinated eyes Larry watched the men at work. He saw a number of reporters for the morning papers chasing here and there.
 
Though the blaze was a bad one it had been taken in time, thanks to the prompt pulling of the box, and so the firemen after considerable hard work succeeded in getting control of the fire. Thinking he had seen enough, though he would have liked to remain until the finish, Larry started for home.
 
Pretty soon he left the crowd behind him, and entered a quiet street. In fact it was so quiet that Larry soon became aware that some person was walking behind him. He could hear the echo of the footsteps after his own, and, naturally, he turned to see who was following him. He could just make out the dark figure of a man.
 
At first the boy was a little nervous, fearing someone might be dogging him for no good purpose. He had heard that men would commit robbery for a small sum, and, though he only had a little change in his pockets, he was a little afraid that the man had an object in keeping so closely behind him.
 
“I wish I’d meet a policeman,” thought Larry.
 
But, like many other things, officers are not on hand when you want one most.
 
177 “I wish I could see who it is,” murmured the boy.
 
He turned around again, and caught sight of the man just as the latter came under a street lamp. Larry gave a start.
 
&l............