He went to Mr. Newton at the first opportunity and told him about it, asking his advice.
“You’d better speak to Mr. Emberg about it before you hand the extra money back,” said the reporter, with a smile.
“Eh? What’s that?” asked Mr. Emberg, when Larry, in hesitating tone, mentioned the matter. “An extra dollar, eh? Well, that’s all right, Larry. That’s a reward for your good work in the tunnel. I heard yesterday about you opening the door. Some of the workmen who knew it was closed found it opened, and knew you must have done it. I want to say that the Leader appreciates such efforts. And the only way we can show appreciation is by giving people more money. So you’ll get seven dollars a week now. I hope it will be much more in time.”
Larry glowed with pleasure, more at the kind words than at the increase in wages, though, of course, that was very welcome.
“My, you’re getting rich,” said Lucy that night when, at the supper table, he told of his good fortune.
“I mean to be, some day,” spoke Larry confidently. “I want to be rich enough to hire that big doctor that’s coming to New York soon, so he can cure you.”
“I’m afraid there’s no hope for me,” replied Lucy, turning her head so as to hide her tears. Her pain had been worse lately, though she had not complained.
Mrs. Dexter was much rejoiced over her son’s advancement, for every bit of money was needed. She could not earn a great deal, and there was much food to buy as well as clothing for the children. She had saved about one hundred dollars of the money she had had when she came to New York, but this she had put away in case of sickness.
It was now about the middle of September. Larry had kept up his studies with the professor and had made good progress.
“The night schools open next week,” said Mr. Carlton one evening, after he and Larry had closed the books. “I suppose you are going to start in.”