“I’m not always reading!” declared Larry, determined to have justice done. “It was my turn to take the last seat, but he wouldn’t move up for me.” “He’s always got a book in his pocket,” growled Tom. “Whose turn is it?” demanded Mr. Emberg, coming over to where the boys were and addressing Bud. “I think it was Tom’s,” said Bud. “Well, then I’ll go,” growled the newest office boy, with no very good grace. “What book are you reading?” asked Mr. Emberg of Larry. “I wasn’t reading, I was studying,” was Larry’s answer as he produced his speller and handed it to the city editor. “Um!” remarked Mr. Emberg. “Spelling, eh? Well, you’ll need it in the newspaper business. But don’t neglect your work to study, Larry.” “No, sir,” replied the boy, yet he felt that Mr. Emberg was not displeased with him. “And I want you boys to stop quarreling about this carrying of copy,” the city editor said. “Each one must take his turn.” “Squealer!” whispered Tom when he came back, and he slyly shook his fist at Larry. “I’ll fix you!” So Larry seemed to have made two enemies in a short time. But he knew that he had done no wrong and he felt that it was not his fault. As for being afraid of either Peter or Tom, such a thought never entered his head. Larry was beginning to be of much service around the _Leader_ office. He was quick to understand what was wanted, and none of the other boys could go to the composing room and get a proof as rapidly as he could. He took a pleasure in his work, and never shirked the carrying of copy. Occasionally he was sent out with the reporters who had to go some distance away to cover stories, to bring back their copy. He liked this sort of work. Best of all he liked to go with Mr. Newton, for this reporter, being one of the oldest and most valuable men, had important assignments, and usually went to some interesting place. It happened that there was a strike on one of the lines of electric cabs operated by a private company in the upper part of the city. From a small affair the matter grew to be a large one, since the strikers would not work themselves, nor did they want to let men called in to fill their places take out the vehicles. The result was a war between the union and non-union factions. Matters grew so hot that the police had to be called out several times, for a cab operated by a “scab,” as the non-unionists were called by the strikers, was likely to be stoned, upset, and the occupants injured. The strike grew in size until the whole electric cab system was involved. Most of the trouble centered around the headquarters of the cab concern, pretty well uptown, and there were several rows between the strikers, the non-unionists, and the police.