Larry was all attention at once. The best part of the newspaper life is being given a special a.s.signment--that is, put to work on a certain case, to the exclusion of everything else. Every reporter dreams of the time when he shall become a special correspondent or given a special a.s.signment. It means that your time is your own, to a great extent; that you may go and come as you please; that your expense bills are seldom questioned, and that you may travel afar and see strange sights. The only requirement, and it is not an easy one, is that you get the news, and get it in time for the paper. Of course, it need not be said that you must let no other paper beat you, but this seldom occurs, as when a reporter is on a special a.s.signment he works alone, and what he gets is his. There are no other newspaper men to worry him.

So, when Mr. Emberg told Larry there was a special a.s.signment for him, the young reporter's heart beat high with hope. He had often wished for one, but they had never come his way before, though to many on the _Leader_ they were an old story.

"What is it?" asked Larry, wondering how far out of town it would take him.

"I want you to find Mr. Potter, the missing millionaire, Larry,"

said Mr. Emberg.

"Find Mr. Potter?"

"That's it. I want you to devote your whole time to that case. Never mind about anything else. Find Mr. Potter. There's a big story back of his going away; a bigger story than you have any idea of. I don't know what it is myself, but I want you to find out. Now I am going to give you free rein and full swing. Do whatever you think is necessary. Get us news. We'll have to have a story every day, for we're going to play this thing up and feature it. You're going to be on the firing-line, so to speak. Take care of yourself, but don't go to sleep. Get ahead of the other fellows and get us news. That's what we want. That's what makes the _Leader_ a success. It's because we get the news, and generally get it first.

"I can't tell you where to start, or what to do. You'll have to find that out for yourself. Get all the information you can from the family. See some of Mr. Potter's business a.s.sociates. Have another interview with Sullivan. Maybe he knows something about it, though I doubt it.

"At any rate, whatever you do, find Mr. Potter," and at this closing instruction Mr. Emberg learned back in his chair and looked sharply at Larry.

"Suppose I can't," and the young reporter smiled.

"'Can't' isn't in the reporter's dictionary," the city editor replied. "You've got to find him. I don't want to see you fall down.

You've done well, so far, Larry. Now's a chance to distinguish yourself."

Larry knew that it was. He also realized that he was going to have his hardest work since he had become a reporter. It was a special a.s.signment, such as any newspaper man might wish for, but it was not one that could be characterized as easy.

"I've got my work cut out for me," thought the youth, as he turned away.

"Here's an order for fifty dollars," went on Mr. Emberg, as he handed the young reporter a slip of paper. "Take it to the cashier, and when you want more for expenses let me know. Don't be afraid of using it if you see a chance to get news, but, of course, don't waste it. Now go, and find Mr. Potter, but don't forget we must have some sort of a story every day."

Larry's first act, after receiving his special a.s.signment, was to go to Mr. Potter's house. Grace received him, and, in answer to his inquiry, stated that the family had no more news than they had at first.

"I thought you could tell us something," said the girl in disappointed tones.

"Perhaps I can, soon," replied Larry. "I'm detailed specially on this case now," and he told her of his a.s.signment.

"Does that mean you have nothing to do but to search for my father?"

"That's what it means."

"Oh, please find him for me!" exclaimed the girl. "You don't know how much I have suffered since he has been missing, nor how much my mother has suffered. It has been terrible! Oh, if you only could find him for us!"

"Miss Potter," began Larry, who was deeply touched by her distress, "a newspaper man could have no greater incentive to work than the duty to which his a.s.signment calls him. More especially in this case to which my city editor has told me to devote my whole time.

But aside from that I'm going to find your father for your sake and your mother's. I'll do all I can. I'll work on this case day and night. I'll find your father for you!"

"Oh!" exclaimed Grace, "you don't know how much good it does me to hear you talk so! It seemed as if no one cared. Of course my father's business a.s.sociates want him to come back, and so do his friends, but--but they don't wish it as much as my mother does and as I do! I miss him so much!"

If Larry had not had the injunction laid on him by Mr. Emberg to urge him on in the search, the appeal by Grace would have been more than sufficient. Hereafter, he resolved, he would feel somewhat as did the knights of old when they were commissioned by their ladies to execute some bold deed.

"Don't worry," he told Grace, as he saw her distress was getting the better of her. "I'll find him."

"Suppose you can't?"

"There's no such work as 'can't' in my dictionary," replied Larry, repeating what Mr. Emberg had told him.

Grace smiled at the young reporter's enthusiasm, but she knew she could have had no better friend, no one who would devote more time and energy to her cause, and no one who had so strong a motive for finding the missing millionaire as had this young newspaper reporter.

While the two were discussing various details of the case there was a ring at the front door, and, presently, the butler entered the library.

"Mr. Jack Sullivan to see you, miss," he announced.

CHAPTER XVI

SULLIVAN'S QUEER ACCUSATION

"Whom did you say it was?" asked Grace.

"Mr. Jack Sullivan," repeated the butler. "I asked him for his card, miss, but he said he hadn't got none. Told me to mention his name, an' said you'd know him."

"But I don't know him," protested Grace. "I never heard of him in my life. There must be some mistake. Are you sure he wants, me, Peterson?"

"He said so, miss, but I'll ask again."

Whereupon the butler, as stiff as a ramrod, went back to the door where he had left Mr. Sullivan standing.

"He means you, miss," the functionary remarked, as he came back to the library.

"I wonder what he can want," Grace said, half to herself. "I don't know any such person. I think there's a mistake. I will see him, and tell him so."

"Wait a minute," exclaimed Larry. "Perhaps I can explain this. I think I know Mr. Sullivan."

"Who is he?"

"A political leader of the eighth a.s.sembly district."

"What does that mean; I'm dreadfully ignorant of politics," Grace remarked with a smile. "Poor papa was much interested in them, but I never could make head or tail out of political matters."

"I have an idea that Sullivan has called here in reference to the disappearance of your father."

"Why do you think that?" and Grace turned pale. "Do you think he brings bad news?"

"On the contrary, I think he has come in search of information."

"But how can he be interested?"

Thereupon Larry told of his interview with the politician, based on what he had overheard in reference to Mr. Potter and the extension of the subway.