“I do not know where he is! I did not take him away!” cried the man excitedly. “I shall also demand a retraction from your paper. You have slandered me.”
“We’ll stand the damage,” spoke Larry, coolly. “But I guess there are certain things true in that story; aren’t they?”
“No! Not a one! Not a one! It is all nonsense! Who am I that I should kidnap little boys? Who am I that I should want the fortune of Madame Androletti? Answer me that, Mr. Reporter?”
“I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care!” exclaimed Larry, boldly, for the manner of the man did not impress him. The young reporter believed Parloti to be “bluffing.”
“You shall soon learn who I am!” the Italian went on. “I am not to be insulted with impunity! I shall demand a retraction from your editor, or he will meet me on the field of honor!”
“We don’t have such fields over here,” spoke Larry with a smile. “We use them for baseball diamonds and football gridirons. I’m afraid you’ll have to think of something else.”
“I shall think of my honor!” cried the Italian. “For what else did you come to see me?”
“To learn if you wanted to make any statement—to give your side of the kidnapping,” replied Larry.
“Kidnapping! There has been no kidnapping!” insisted Parloti, shaking his fist at Larry, who remained cool.
“Madame Androletti’s son has been stolen away,” went on the reporter.