“Mr. Emberg thinks a heap of you, Larry,” said the older reporter. “Your calling up on the ’phone, and giving the story, in spite of being hurt, shows, he says, that you’re made of the right kind of stuff.” “Oh, anybody would have done what I did,” said Larry, modestly. It was pleasant to be praised, however, and he was glad that his efforts had been appreciated. Larry wanted to talk about the blue-handed man, and the threats the gang had made. He wanted to ask Mr. Newton if anything new had developed, but could get no chance, as Mrs. Dexter and Lucy were within hearing distance all the while. However, Mr. Newton must have guessed what was in Larry’s mind, for he said, in a low tone, as he was leaving: “I’ll be over soon again, Larry, and I’ll see if we can’t think of some scheme to land the gang.” Larry was laid up about a week and a half. He fretted over being kept in the house, when the weather was so fine out of doors, but the doctor said if his patient did not keep quiet, serious injury might follow using the ankle too soon. At length Larry was able to hobble about on crutches, and then, a couple of days later, ventured out on the sidewalk. He began to be more hopeful after that. Meanwhile he heard every day from the office, and Mr. Emberg sent messages of encouragement. Larry was told to take as long as he wanted to get well, as his salary would go on just the same. When pay-night came Mr. Emberg brought the young reporter his envelope, for which Larry was very thankful. At the end of two weeks Larry felt strong enough to go back to work, provided he did not have to run any races, or chase after cars. So, one bright morning, walking with a slight limp that was daily growing less, Larry went down to the office. On the way he wondered whether he would hear any more about the gang. They seemed to have ceased operations, or if they had not, they were biding their time. Larry received no more warning letters, though he often looked for them. The young reporter was welcomed back to his desk with considerable enthusiasm among his colleagues. They said they had missed him, and were glad to see him at work once again. There was not much to do that day, and Larry was told by Mr. Emberg to go home early. “You ought to take in the circus,” said the city editor. “It will do you good after having been shut up in the house so long. I’ll send for some complimentary tickets for you.” “I have some,” put in Larry, telling about the passes the lion-tamer had given him. “Then you’d better go, take someone with you, and enjoy the performance,” the city editor said. Larry made up his mind he would take Jimmy, who had done nothing but talk circus for the last two weeks, and that evening, when the subject was broached, the youngster stood on his head in delight. “Do you think you can keep awake?” asked Mrs. Dexter. “The show lasts a long time.” “Well, if he can’t keep awake at a circus, mother, he’s not much of a boy,” spoke Larry, laughing.