A STRANGE ASSIGNMENT
The insurance investigation lasted for several days and Larry was kept
busy carrying copy for Mr. Newton. On the second day Peter Manton
reappeared, with a large discolored spot over his right eye where Larry
had hit him. The former office boy on the _Leader_ did not glance at
Larry, but, on the contrary, seemed anxious to escape observation. Jim
did not come back.
“I’m not afraid of him,” thought Larry. But he decided it would be
better to run no risks of being late with his copy, so he determined to
avoid an encounter with Peter.
With this end in view Larry used the main corridor in going and coming
from the chamber. That was filled with people on various errands and
Larry had no fear that Peter would try to stop him. In fact Larry was
not physically afraid at all, but he felt he owed the paper a duty to
avoid anything that would cause trouble.
But Peter showed no desire to make any. He kept out of Larry’s way and
seemed to be content with attending to his own work of rushing copy
for the reporter he was aiding.
Larry was not sorry when the last day of the investigation came. The
novelty had worn off, and it was rather tiresome sitting and listening
to questions and answers. The only relief came when he went out with
copy and came back. The reporters, also, were weary of the grind.
“Well, Larry,” remarked Mr. Newton on the afternoon of the final
hearing. “I think we’re entitled to a holiday. What do you say?”
“I don’t believe we’ll get it,” said Larry with a smile.
“Maybe not a day off, but any kind of work will be a holiday after what
I’ve been through. I’d like to report even a missionary meeting for a
change.”
For some time thereafter Larry was kept busy in the office. He proved
himself very useful, and every day was learning more about the
business. Meanwhile he was not neglecting his studies at home, in
preparation for the night school.
With the professor he plodded over the books, learning to become a
better reader, more proficient in arithmetic and in writing. Then too,
he began to study history, for the teacher told him it was necessary,
if he was to write about things modern, to know what had happened in
the past.
So Larry not only dipped into the happenings of the past in this
country but what had taken place in others. It was hard work. After
a long day at the office, to sit down and tackle dry subjects was
something few boys would care about. It would have been easier to go
off to a bowling alley or to the theater. But Larry, though he wanted
to do those things, felt that he owed it to himself and his mother to
try and advance himself. And advancement he realized could only come by
learning more than he already knew.
One day, early in September, Mr. Emberg called Larry to him and looked
the boy over critically.
“You seem pretty strong and healthy,” the city editor said.
“I guess I am,” replied Larry, wondering what was coming next.
“How would you like to take a trip under the Hudson River?” asked Mr.
Emberg.
Larry did not know what to say. Occasionally the city editor joked, and
the boy thought this might be one of those times.
“I don’t believe I could swim that far,” Larry said at length. “That
is, not under water.” On the surface, splashing about, Larry knew he
would be at home, though he had never thought of tackling the big
stream.
“I guess you won’t have to swim,” went on the city editor.
“What do you mean then?” asked Larry.
“I’m going to send you on a trip with Mr. Newton,” Mr. Emberg went on.
“You’ll have to start in half an hour.”
“All right,” responded Larry. He had formed the habit of not asking
many questions, for he had found in the newspaper business it was best
to follow orders and to hold oneself in readiness for anything that
might turn up. Larry had no idea where he was going, but Mr. Emberg
soon enlightened him.
“You know they have been digging a tunnel beneath the Hudson River, so
as to bring passengers from Jersey City over to New York without using
the ferry,” the city editor went on. Larry did, for he had read of the
project in the paper. “Well,” resumed Mr. Emberg, “one of the tubes is
about finished. All that remains is to cut through a thin brick wall,
or bulkhead, as it is called, and one can walk from New York to New
Jersey under the bottom of the river.
“The company in charge of the tunnel work has invited a number of
newspaper men to make the first trip to-day, when the bulkhead will be
cut through and the first complete passage under the historic river
will be made. Mr. Newton is to go along to represent the _Leader_.”
“But what am I to do?” asked Larry.
“You’re going to help us get a beat I hope,” said the city editor.
Larry’s eyes brightened. He saw himself on the road to becoming a
reporter.
“You see,” Mr. Emberg went on, “the company in charge of the work is
not exactly sure that their plans will succeed. So they have asked a
number of newspaper men to go along on the trial trip. But they have
been very quiet about it and no other paper than ours--at least I hope
so--knows what the real purpose of the trip is. Most of the reporters
think it is only a jaunt to see how the work has progressed. There have
been a number of such.
“So carefully have the builders laid their plans that they think, once
all the reporters are down in the big tube, they cannot get out to
say whether the thing is a success or a failure, in time to reach the
afternoon papers. As for the morning papers, if the thing is a failure
it will be so covered up by the engineers, that the reporters will
never know it.
“Now my plan is this! I want you to go along with Mr. Newton. You will
be his assistant, for each invitation admits two. If the thing should
succeed, which I think it will, we want to know it this afternoon; not
to-morrow. And if it does succeed, it will only be known to those down
in the tube.
“The only way we could find out in the office would be to have some
word from those in the tube or tunnel. The only way we can get word is
for someone to come back from the tube. Mr. Newton could not leave,
for, if he did, after the wall had been cut through, his absence would
be noted, and other reporters would rush out. Then we would not score a
beat.
“But if you could go along, note what takes place, and then, when
the chance offers, get away unnoticed and come out of the tube to a
telephone on the surface, we could get the news ahead of anyone else.
Do you think you can do it?”
Larry hesitated. It was a pretty big contract for a small boy, but he
resolved to try it.
“I’ll do it!” he said.
“I knew you would,” said Mr. Emberg. “It’s almost time for you and Mr.
Newton to start.”
The reporter came up a few minutes later, nodded to the city editor,
and said:
“Well, are we going to try it?”
“With Larry’s help we are,” was the answer.
“Come along then,” said Mr. Newton, as though taking a trip under the
Hudson River was one of the most ordinary things in this busy world.
Larry put on his hat and, after a friendly nod from Mr. Emberg, left
the office. The reporter and copy boy went down Broadway to the big
Trinity building, adjoining the church of that name, and went to
the office of the company that was building the tunnel. There they
found a crowd of reporters; one from almost every newspaper in New
York. The men were ushered into a finely fitted up room, and told to
make themselves comfortable until the president of the company, Mr.
Lackadon, was ready to escort them.
“Keep a quiet tongue,” advised Mr. Newton to Larry. “None of the others
know what is up.”
Larry nodded. Then he listened to what the other newspaper men had
to say. Few of them knew what their assignment was, except that they
were to come and report something about the tunnel that had been in
construction for some time.
“All ready, gentlemen!” announced a voice, and the president of the
concern appeared in the room.
“Where are we going?” asked several reporters of evening papers. “We’d
like to send up a few lines about the story.”
“It’s a sort of a secret,” said the president with a smile. “If any of
you want to back out, now’s your chance.”
No one ever heard of a newspaper man backing out, so no one moved.
“Come on,” said the president.
He led the way to the big express elevators and soon the crowd of
reporters were on the ground floor. They went out the rear entrance
and, by way of a number of back streets, to a dock on the New York side
of the Hudson River where a steamer was in waiting.
“Keep close to me,” said Mr. Newton to Larry.
Once aboard the craft little time was lost. It steamed to the Jersey
City side of the river, and there, disembarking, the reporters and the
officials of the company who accompanied them walked through the yards
of a railroad until they came to a group of small buildings.
“This is the mouth of the shaft that leads down to the level of the
tunnel,” said the president, pointing to a small structure.
Almost as if in a dream Larry followed Mr. Newton. Entering the
building he found himself in the midst of a lot of machinery.
“Get on the elevator,” said a voice.
Larry stepped on a wooden platform, which soon began to sink. The
others were crowded about him. In a few minutes they found themselves
at the bottom of a shaft fifty feet in diameter and sixty feet deep. As
they landed, right in front of them yawned a black hole.
“The tunnel,” said the president, with a wave of his hand.
There was a murmur of astonishment from most of the reporters, for they
had never seen the big tube before.
“Now that I have you all here,” the president went on, “I want to tell
you that we propose, for the first time in the history of the world, to
walk under the Hudson River!”
There was a chorus of remonstrances, for the reporters for the
afternoon papers did not like missing a chance for a story, and they
realized they could send no word now.
“If the trial succeeds,” went on the president, “we will cut through
the brick wall that separates the east from the west end of the tunnel.
I think it will succeed as all but a very thin portion of the wall is
gone. All that remains is to turn on a hydraulic jack that will cut
down the rest, and the tunnel will be an assured fact.”
“Can’t we send word to our papers?” asked several reporters.
“I’m afraid not,” was the answer of the president. “Those on the
morning papers, of course, can tell what happens, but the evening ones
will have to wait until to-morrow.”
“We’ll see about that,” whispered Mr. Newton to Larry. “Keep close to
me, and when I give you the word you skip back the way we came, tell
the man at the elevator you want to get out, and reach the surface as
soon as possible. When you do, ring up the office, and tell Mr. Emberg
all you have seen.”
“All right,” whispered Larry.
“Forward!” cried the president.