She would have liked to have moved into a better house, though they were fairly well off where they were. True, they had not many articles of luxury, and sometimes their comforts were few. But Larry was now earning good wages, and, with what Mrs. Dexter got from her sewing, they had enough to eat, good substantial clothing, and did not need to worry over the coal supply, even though winter was coming on. But Larry was not yet ready to disclose his plans. There was much wonder in the vicinity of the apartment where the Dexters lived over the fact that with so much money they did not move to better quarters, and several of their neighbors mentioned this. “It’s Larry’s money,” said Mrs. Dexter, in answer to these questions. “He can do what he likes with it, in reason. Of course I would not let him spend it foolishly, and I know he will not. When he gets ready he will let me know what he is going to do with it.” Then Mrs. Dexter would close the conversation, or turn it into some other channel. But the neighbors did not cease from wondering and talking. At the office Larry was the envy of all the other boys, and not a few of the reporters. “If I had that money I’d never work again,” said Bud. “It wouldn’t last long if you began to spend it,” said Larry. “I’ve got a special use for that thousand dollars.” That afternoon Mr. Newton had to go out on a story. As he was leaving the city room Mr. Emberg said: “While you’re out you might get a picture of Dr. Carrolton. We’ll run it to-morrow, with the story of that big operation he’s going to perform.” “I’m afraid I will not have time to go there,” said Mr. Newton. “It’s ’way uptown. Perhaps one of the boys or Larry could go.” “I guess Larry can get it all right,” said the city editor. “I didn’t think of him.” “Let him come part of the way with me,” suggested Mr. Newton. “I’ll tell him what to do.” So Larry was told to get on his hat and coat, give up carrying copy for the rest of the day, and go after a photograph of the celebrated doctor. “Is he going to perform one of those operations on lame children?” asked Larry of Mr. Newton, as they were in the elevated train going uptown. “Yes, he’s going to try and cure a bad spinal trouble that a daughter of Mr. Smyington, the millionaire, is afflicted with,” said the reporter. “He has been very successful in all the cases he has undertaken, and he was brought over to this country especially to operate on this one case.” “It must cost a lot of money,” said Larry. “Mr. Smyington is paying ten thousand dollars,” said Mr. Newton. Larry said nothing, but he sighed in a way that made Mr. Newton wonder what the boy was worrying about. “Ten thousand dollars,” said Larry softly to himself. “That’s an awful lot of money, and I have only one thousand.”