When Larry was eating supper that night he happened to glance out of the window. He saw an unusual light in the sky, and first took it for a glow from some gas furnace or smelting works across on the Jersey shore. But, as he watched, the light grew more brilliant, and there was a cloud of smoke and a shower of sparks.
“That’s a big fire!” he exclaimed, jumping up.
“You’re not going to it, are you, Larry?” asked his mother.
“I think I’d better,” he replied. “Most of the men are working to-night, and none of them may go to the blaze. If we want a good story we must be right on the spot. So I think I’ll go, though I may find Mr. Newton or someone else covering it.”
“Well, be careful, and don’t go too near,” cautioned Mrs. Dexter, who was quite nervous.
“I’ll look out for myself,” said Larry, with all the assurance lads usually have.
“Take me to the fire, I’ll help you report it,” begged Jimmy.
“Not to-night,” answered Larry. “It’s probably a good way off, and you’d get tired.”
“Then you can carry me,” spoke the little fellow, ready to cry at not being allowed to go.
“You stay here, and I’ll tell you a story,” promised Lucy, who had grown to be a strong, healthy girl since the surgical operation. “I’ll tell you about Jack the Giant Killer.”