He had been on the Leader a month now and was getting well acquainted not only with the editors and men on the staff, but the different ways of doing things, from the time a reporter brought a story in until it came out in the paper.
One hot August morning as Larry was on his way to work, he saw quite a crowd at the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge, caused by a breakdown on one of the cars. He paused for a few minutes, as he was a little ahead of time. As he did so he noticed, on the outer edge of the throng, a handsomely dressed woman. In her hand she carried a large silver purse, through the open meshes of which could be seen a green roll of bills.
Suddenly a roughly dressed youth grabbed the purse, pulled it from the lady’s hand with a savage yank, and bolted down a side street.
“Thief! Robber! He’s stolen my money!” the woman cried.
Instantly the crowd forgot all about the breakdown on the bridge and raised a cry of:
“Stop thief!”
“There he goes!”
“Catch him!”
“Which way did he go?” asked a policeman, coming up on the run.