# Larry Dexter, Reporter/Chapter 28

pp. 230–237.
CHAPTER XXVIII
AN ANXIOUS SEARCH
“I guess he's just mixed up in the crowd,” murmured Larry, trying to make himself believe nothing harmful had befallen Jimmy. “He's so little that I can't see him. I'll soon find him, though.”
Then Larry caught sight of a policeman he knew, and hurried up to the officer.
“I've lost my little brother, Mr. Sullivan,” he said. “Where had I better start to look for him?”
“Hello, Larry, me boy!” the officer exclaimed good-naturedly, for he had taken quite a fancy to the young reporter since Larry had given him a little puff in the paper about stopping a runaway horse. “In trouble, eh? Well, I'll show you what we do with lost children. We have a regular place for 'em here in the Garden. They're always gettin' lost, and their fathers an' mothers is half crazy. Come with me.”
Officer Sullivan led the way to a small room off the main offices of those in charge of the show. It was an apartment fitted up for the care of lost children. The management had found that scores of tots whom their parents brought to the circus got lost every day, and the policemen on duty at the show had orders to bring them to the “nursery,” as it was called. There were two nurses and a matron in charge to look after the little folk.
“Here's a lad to claim one of your lost children, Mrs. Weston,” said Mr. Sullivan, as he took Larry to the matron. “His little brother is missing.”
“What is he like?” asked the matron.
Larry described Jimmy as well as he could.
“Let me see,” mused Mrs. Weston. “No, I don't believe I have your brother in here yet, though I may get him at any moment. Now if he was a year or two younger I'm sure I could fix you up, as I have some that answer his description perfectly, except for age. You're sure you can't be mistaken?”
“I'm sure,” replied Larry, who was beginning to become more worried.
“Because, you know, if you were not positive, you might be mistaken,” went on the matron. “I wish you could find your brother among those I have. I'd like to get rid of some of them. The crop is unusually heavy to-night.”
By this time the big Garden was beginning to be pretty well cleared of the crowd. Mothers and fathers who missed their children had begun to drift in and claim them, being directed to the “nursery,” by policemen in different parts of the amusement place. One after another of the children were taken away, until there was none left. Little Jimmy had not been found.
Larry's heart was like lead. He hardly dared to go home, and tell his mother what had happened. That the blue-handed gang had kidnapped the boy Larry had no doubt. That was why they had been following him around for the last few weeks. Yet, even though he knew this must be true, Larry hated to give in to the belief.
He stayed around the Garden for a long time, until the men began to put the lights out, hoping against hope that Jimmy would turn up somewhere. But, at last, when it came time to close the place, Larry could remain no longer.
“What shall I do?” he thought. “I'm afraid the shock will make mother sick. I'm sure he'll not be harmed by the gang, and they'll give him back to us as soon as mother and I agree to sign the deed. I will put an advertisement in the papers to-morrow—no! I'll do it to-night! There's time enough yet. I must find Mr. Newton, and tell him. He'll help me!”
Now that he had decided on a plan of action, Larry felt a little better. There's nothing so bad for worry or grief as thinking of it. As soon as one can get busy at something the spirits improve.
So it was in Larry's case. He started for Mr. Newton's house, intending to ask his advice about the wording of the notice to be put in the morning papers. He had about an hour yet before the time for taking advertisements would be up.
As he was hurrying away he was hailed by Officer Sullivan.
“Did ye find him, Larry?”
“No, he wasn't brought into the nursery.”
“Well, don't worry. Probably some policeman farther down the street picked him up, and took him to the nearest station-house. I'll turn in an alarm for him, and you can inquire at headquarters whether any lost children have been picked up. Give me a description of him.”
Larry did so, and then resumed his trip. He made up his mind to stop at police headquarters on his way back from Mr. Newton's, and then to go home and tell his mother the sad news, provided there was none better to relate.
Mr. Newton was much shocked when Larry told what had happened. He made the youth go over every incident.
“Of course, there's a bare possibility that the gang has not kidnapped him,” spoke the older reporter, “but it looks suspicious.”
“What had I better do?” asked Larry. “I'm afraid to go home and tell my mother.”
“I'll go with you,” replied Mr. Newton. “But before we go we'll get an advertisement ready. We'll insert it in several papers. I don't believe in giving in to these blackmailers, but I think in this case we can set a trap for them by this advertisement. I have been doing some work on the case, and I think there'll be some developments shortly.”
“If I only knew that Jimmy was safe, I'd not worry so much,” said Larry, with something like a sob in his throat.
“I think he will be treated all right by the gang,” replied Mr. Newton. “It would not be their policy to hurt him. They are only trying to scare you.”
“Well, they're succeeding pretty well.”
Mr. Newton got his hat, and, having written several advertisements stating that a certain person was ready to do what a certain blue-handed man desired, provided a certain person was restored to his home, he and Larry went out. They headed for several newspaper offices on Park Row, and soon the advertisement had been accepted, and paid for. It was to appear under the head of “Personals.”
“Now we'll see what good that will do,” observed Mr. Newton, as he reached the last office just in time to have the notice taken for the next day's paper. “I think you had better be getting home, too. Your mother will be worried at your absence. I'll go along.”
“She'll be more worried when I do get home,” remarked Larry, dubiously. But I suppose there's no help for it.”
Frightened enough was Mrs. Dexter when Mr. Newton broke the news to her as gently as possible. She grew pale, and then almost fainted, while Mary and Lucy, when they heard the bad tidings, began to cry, though Mary hardly knew what for, save that something had happened to make her mother sad.
“Now don't you get down-hearted,” advised Mr. Newton. “We'll find Jimmy for you just as soon as we can. Maybe we'll have him for you before morning. He may have been picked up by some persons who saw he was lost, and they may have taken him home. There are hundreds of things that might have happened. You'll be laughing at this scare in a few days.”
“I'm sure I hope so,” replied Mrs. Dexter, with a sigh.
Leaving Larry to comfort his mother as best he could, Mr. Newton set off to make a trip to police headquarters. He wanted to be sure that Jimmy was not lost in the usual manner in which hundreds of New York children are lost every week. From the sergeant in charge Mr. Newton learned that the usual number of little ones had been picked up. They were at the various precinct station-houses, awaiting owners. Some had been there since early morning, their mothers either having forgotten all about them, or else thinking they were safe at some relative's or neighbor's house.
None of the unclaimed ones, however, answered the description of Larry's brother. They were too young or too old, too large or too small, or had some other feature about them that precluded any chance of one being Jimmy.
“Do your best on this case, Tom,” Mr. Newton said to the sergeant behind the desk, as he was leaving. “Send out a general alarm. The child's a little brother of a reporter on the Leader, and a friend of mine. If you hear anything during the night from any of the precincts, call me up. I have a 'phone in the house, now.”
“I will,” promised the sergeant. “I hope they find the little lad.”
Rather tired, but not discouraged, Mr. Newton went home. He knew the police would do their best, as many of them were friends of his, and, besides, the bluecoats had a very good feeling toward the Leader, as it had advocated higher pay for the police and firemen, and the measure had passed the Legislature, so there was in line with his duty nothing a bluecoat would not do for the Leader.
But the night wore on, and there came no word to Mr. Newton concerning Jimmy. The reporter went to bed about two o'clock, leaving word for the elevator attendant to awaken him in time to get to work at the usual hour.
In their rooms, waiting, and hoping against hope, sat Mrs. Dexter, Larry, and Lucy. Mary had fallen asleep. It was a sad household, though Larry tried hard to make his mother feel that there was no danger to Jimmy.
“I can't help crying,” replied Mrs. Dexter. “My little boy has never been away from me a night in his life. He'll cry so hard, and be so frightened at those rough men! Oh, Larry! Why did they do it? Let them have all they ask, only get Jimmy back!”
“Maybe the men who are after the property have not got Jimmy,” suggested Larry, hoping to cheer up his mother.
“Oh, I'm sure he been kidnapped!” she exclaimed. “I feel that he has. I only hope they will not harm him,” and the poor woman began to cry softly again, in spite of the efforts Lucy and Larry made to comfort her.
Thus the long night wore on; none in the Dexter household, save little Mary, sleeping more than a few minutes at a time. Every now and then one of them would awaken, thinking they heard someone coming, bringing what might prove joyful news, but each time it was a false alarm.