"Judge Scatterwaite," was the answer.
"Good!" cried the young reporter. "I know him. My paper supported him in the last campaign, and I believe he will be glad to do a favor for me. Is there a telephone around here?" he asked the officer. "Oh, we won't run away," he hastened to assure the guardian of the peace. "I just want to talk to the judge. I'm Larry Dexter, of the Leader."
"Oh, is that so? I guess I've heard of you. Aren't you the reporter who worked up that stolen boy case?"
"I am," admitted Larry, modestly. "There's a telephone right over there, in the Rocking Stone restaurant," went on the officer, who seemed to regard Larry and his friends in a different light now. "You can call up the judge. He'll probably be at his house now. I'll go with you. It may be that he will want to speak to me, and will dismiss the complaint."
"We'll wait here for you, Larry," said Dick. "There's nothing like having a reporter with you when you break the law," he added, with a laugh.
The officer rode his horse slowly along with Larry, going to the place whence a telephone message could be sent. Larry was soon talking with the judge, who, on learning the identity of the young reporter, and having heard the circumstances, spoke to the officer.
"It's all right!" exclaimed the policeman, as he hung up the receiver. "I'm to let you go. He says he'll find you all guilty, and will suspend sentence."
"Good!" cried Larry. "That's the time my 'pull' was of some use."
"And I'm glad I didn't have to take you to the station," the mounted man proceeded. "I'm interested in airships myself. I've got a boy who's crazy about them, and wireless. He's got a wireless outfit—made it all himself," he added, proudly.
There was nothing further to worry the aviators, on the return of Larry with the officer, so they prepared to have breakfast, and then Lieutenant McBride said he would arrange to have the official start in the prize race made from Fort Wadsworth.