“Don’t wait on my account,” she assured him quickly. “I’m not a bit afraid here—with the chauffeur. Follow him, if you want to.”
“I do want to,” spoke Larry. “I’d like to see if I can gain anything from hearing them talk. And yet I don’t like to desert you.”
“Reporters can’t always do as they like,” she remarked. “It’s your duty to go. Don’t wait, or you may lose him.”
“All right,” agreed Larry. He spoke to the chauffeur:
“Say, old man, a party has just gone into the park. I want to shadow him. Will you look after the young lady until I come back?”
“Surest thing you know!” exclaimed the taxi-man, good-naturedly. “Go ahead. This tire is going to take me a little longer than I thought.”
Larry waved his hand to Molly, and, with a smile of reassurance at her, he glided into the park. A quick look showed him a policeman standing not far away, and he felt sure his companion would not be subjected to annoyances. Besides, the chauffeur was a man Larry knew slightly and he realized that Molly would be safe.
Through the shadows, along the walks of the park, Larry ran, making as little noise as he could. He looked ahead and had a glimpse of the two men who had attracted his attention. They seemed to be talking earnestly together.
“I must hear what they say,” murmured the young reporter. “It may give me the very clew I need. It may tell me whether or not it is worth while following Parloti any more.”
He managed, without attracting the attention of the men he was shadowing, to draw nearer to them. As they passed under a light Larry could see, and make sure, that it was Parloti and one of his confederates. There was no doubt of it.