A carriage drove rapidly up to the foot of the steps. Larry, struggling against he knew not what, was unable to free himself. He was bundled into the cab, two of the men followed, and the door was slammed shut. Then the driver cracked his whip and the horses started off at a gallop.
Even then Larry could not believe that the men meant to take him. A number of explanations came into his mind. He thought he was mistaken for another person, and again he imagined it might be some prank of college students, though the men did not look like youths who attended a university.
One man had kept his hand over Larry’s mouth, but once they were in the cab he removed his palm and substituted for it a cloth gag which effectually prevented the boy from calling out.
Larry strained his ears to catch anything the men might say, in order to learn what their purpose was regarding him. In this, however, he was disappointed, as the men maintained silence. The only sound was the rumbling of the carriage over the cobblestones. Occasionally this would cease as an asphalt stretch would be reached.
“They’ll release me as soon as they find they have the wrong person,” thought Larry. “It would make a good story if I could find out all about it and what their real object is.”
Even in his somewhat perilous position Larry had a thought for his paper, as all good reporters should have. Now the cab seemed to be in a less thickly settled part of the city. By glancing through a small crack in the window shade, Larry could see stretches of field instead of solid blocks of houses. The men, too, seemed to be less apprehensive of pursuit, for they began to talk in low tones, though Larry could not hear what they said.
At length, however, Larry heard one ask the other:
“Has he got the papers with him?”
“Sure,” was the answer from the other man. “I saw him put them in his pocket. Shall I take them out?”
“No, we’ll wait for the boss,” was the answer.