“I’ll drive you to the telephone station in my rig,” volunteered the foreman. “I guess your sprained ankle won’t prevent you from talking, provided you feel you have to do it.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that,” answered Larry, glad of the chance to send the story in himself, though he was grateful for the aid of the other reporters.
There was nothing more to be obtained in the way of a story, as the big stack was leveled, though the task had not been as well performed as had been hoped. So Larry was lifted into the carriage, and driven to the nearest telephone. There he explained matters to Mr. Emberg, who had a reporter take the account over the wire, as Larry explained all the details, including the smashing of the shack.
“Now you go home, and doctor yourself up,” said Mr. Emberg, coming in on the wire when Larry had finished his story. “Mr. Newton or I will be over to see you to-night. Take care of yourself, and don’t worry. Your job will be here when you get ready to come back.”
This relieved Larry’s mind for he was a little uncertain as to what happened to reporters who were not able to come to work. Then, again being helped into the foreman’s carriage, Larry was driven to his home, and very much surprised Mrs. Dexter and Lucy were to see him brought to the house, unable to walk.
Matters were soon explained, however, and a doctor was sent for. He said the sprain, while a bad and painful one, was not likely to last long, and promised Larry that, if he was careful, he might be able to go out in a week or ten days.
“Can’t you make it any sooner, doctor?” asked Larry.
“I’m afraid not, my boy. That’s a short enough time to let the cords and sinews get into shape again.”
Larry made up his mind to bear it as best he could, and, with Lucy’s help, he hobbled to an easy-chair, where he sat down, while his sister made him comfortable with cushions.
“Where’s Jimmy?” asked Larry, suddenly, as he happened to think that he had not seen his little brother since coming home. His heart began to beat, almost, in fear.