“That’s what I mean,” replied Larry. “The box of papers, in which the deed to the Bronx land was kept, is gone.”
“Perhaps you took it out with you, in your excitement,” suggested Mrs. Dexter.
“No,” replied Larry. “I know we have been robbed. The more I think of it the more I believe the fire was only a make-believe one, started to scare us so we would get out and give the thief a chance to work.”
Mrs. Dexter could hardly credit this, but Larry insisted he was right. The firemen went through the building to make sure there were no lurking sparks, and some of them said the blaze had amounted to nothing more than a small bit of rubbish on fire in the cellar, which confirmed Larry’s belief.
He said nothing more to his mother, however, as she was much excited over the fire. Soon they returned to bed, though Mary and Jimmy were the only ones who slept much afterward, as the others were too nervous.
Larry was much puzzled. That bold and daring men were plotting against the welfare of himself and his relatives he had little doubt. He was convinced that the blaze was only started for the purpose of giving someone an opportunity of getting possession of the deed.
“If they go to such lengths to get it, there must be something very valuable about it,” thought Larry.
Long and earnestly he thought over the matter. He recalled the man who had rushed into their apartments to notify them of the fire, and his suspicions grew that he had heard his voice somewhere before.
“I wonder if he could be someone whom I have been to see to get a story for the paper,” thought Larry.
He reviewed as well as he could the men he had called on since he had been a reporter. None of them seemed to fit.