“All right,” replied Mr. Newton. “Come back as soon as you can. Here is some money to pay the boatman with.”
Larry had donned his rubber boots, but, as it was not raining, he had no need to hoist his umbrella. It seemed at last that the storm had ceased, though the waters had not yet begun to recede.
Larry walked through the damp corridor, trying not to seem in a hurry or as if he was going anywhere. He thought he had succeeded, but, just as he was about to get into the same boat he had hired before, he saw Peter Manton come hurrying out. Peter had a bundle of copy in his hand, and was, evidently, going to look for a telegraph office. He glared at Larry.
“Here’s where we beat you,” sneered Peter.
Larry wondered whether Peter had discovered where the telegraph office was. If he knew, Larry thought there would be no use in trying to fool him by taking a round-about course. If he did not, then there was a chance of Larry reaching it first and getting Mr. Newton’s copy on the wire.
“Row me to the telegraph office,” was the order Larry heard Peter give to a boatman he had engaged.
“I don’t know where there is one,” the man said.
“Well, row about until you find one,” said Peter, with as much airs as though he was a reporter instead of a copy boy. “When you find it I’ll send this stuff.”
The man started off, rowing at random. Larry waited a while, and then, telling his boatman to send the craft in the opposite direction from that in which the telegraph tent was, he too started away.
“We mustn’t let them find out where we’re going,” said Larry. “I must get to the office first.”