Larry thought the transportation facilities in New York were never so slow as on that journey
to the Potter house. He tried to imagine, on the way up, what sort of a letter Grace had received from her father. That it contained good news he judged from the cheerful note in her voice.
"Things seem to be happening quite rapidly," the young reporter mused, as he got off at the elevated station nearest to his destination. "First thing I know I'll find him, and then I'll not have a chance to see Grace any more."
He dwelt on this thought, half-laughing at himself.
"I guess I'd better stop thinking of her and attend strictly to this disappearance business," he murmured as he went up the steps of the Potter mansion. "She's too rich for one thing, and another is I'm too poor, though I'm earning good wages, and we have some money in the bank," for the sale of the Bronx land, as related in "Larry Dexter, Reporter," had netted Mrs. Dexter and her children about ten thousand dollars.
Larry's ring at the bell was answered by Grace, who, it would seem, had been on the watch for him.
"I thought you would never come," she said. "I telephoned ever so long ago."
"I came as fast as I could," Larry responded. "Where is the letter?"
Grace held out to him a small piece of paper. On it was but a single line of writing. It read:
"Am well. Have to stay away for a time. Don't worry. Will write again."