Larry Dexter's Great Search Part 30

"How is the patient just brought in from the pier? Comfortable, eh?

That's good."

Then he turned to Larry:

"I guess you can go up soon," he added. "Can you give us his name, and some particulars? He was unconscious when he came in," and the superintendent prepared to jot down the information on his record book.

This was a complication Larry had not foreseen. If he gave the superintendent the fugitive's name, any other reporters who came to the hospital to inquire about the injured man would at once connect Retto with the Potter mystery, and the _Leader's_ chance for a beat would be small indeed. What was he to do? He decided to take the superintendent partly into his confidence.

"I know the name he goes by," he said, as the beginning of his account, "but I do not believe it is his right one. I think it is an alias he uses."

"Never mind then," the superintendent interrupted, much to Larry's relief. "If it's a false name we don't want it."

"I believe it is," Larry added, and he was honest in that statement, for he felt that Retto was playing some deep game, and, in that case, would not be likely to use his right name.

"We don't want our records wrong," the head of the hospital resumed.

"We'll wait until he can tell us about himself."

The telephone bell rang at that juncture, and the superintendent answering it told Larry the patient was now in bed and could be seen.

"Don't get him excited," cautioned the official. "I want to get some information from him about himself when you are through."

It is sometimes the custom in New York, in accident cases, to allow reporters to interview the victims, when their physical condition admits of it. So it was no new thing for Larry to go into the hospital ward to speak to Retto. He pa.s.sed through rows of white cots, on which reclined men in all stages of disease and accident.

There was a sickish smell of iodoform in the atmosphere, and the sight of the pale faces on either side made Larry sad at heart.

"There's your patient," said a nurse who was with him, as she led Larry to the bed where Retto reclined under the white coverings that matched the hue of his face. "Now don't excite him. You newspaper men don't care what you do as long as you get a story, and sometimes all the work we nurses do goes for nothing."

"I'll be careful," promised Larry.

The nurse, who had other duties to keep her busy, left Larry at the bedside of the mysterious man. He was lying with his eyes shut as Larry approached.

"Mr. Retto," called the reporter.

There was no response.

"Mr. Retto," spoke Larry, a little louder.

At that the man opened his eyes.

"Were you calling me?" he asked. Then he caught sight of Larry, and a smile came on his face.

"Well, you've found me, I see," was his greeting. "Only for that team I'd been far away."

"I suppose so. But now you're here, for which I'm sorry; I hope you will answer me a few questions."

"What are they?" asked the man, and a spasm of pain replaced his smile.

"I believe you know the secret of Mr. Potter's disappearance," said Larry, speaking in a low tone so none of the other patients would hear him. "I want you to tell me where he is."

At the mention of Mr. Potter's name Retto raised himself in bed. His face that had been pale became flushed.

"He--he--is----" then he stopped. He seemed unable to speak.

"Yes--yes!" exclaimed Larry, eagerly. "Where is he?"

"He--is----"

Then Retto fell back on the bed.

"He has fainted!" cried the nurse, running to the cot. "The strain has been too much for him," and she pressed an electric b.u.t.ton which summoned the doctor.

CHAPTER XXVI

A NEW CLUE

Larry moved to one side. The unexpected outcome of his interview had startled him. He did not quite know what to do.

The doctor came up on the run and made a hasty examination of the patient. Then he sent for another surgeon. Larry heard them talking.

"What is it?" he asked of his friend the nurse.

"His skull is fractured," she said in a low voice. "They did not think so at first, but now the symptoms show it. They are going to operate at once. It is the only chance of saving his life."

"There goes my story," thought Larry, regretfully.

It was not that he was hard-hearted or indifferent to Retto's sufferings. Simply that his newspaper instinct got ahead of everything else, as it does in all true reporters, who, if they have a "nose for news," will make "copy" out of even their closest friend, though they may dislike the operation very much.

"You had better go," the nurse advised Larry. "You will not be able to see him again for some time--no one will be allowed to talk to him until he is on the road to recovery--if we can save him. He has a bad fracture."

Much disappointed, Larry left the hospital. It was hard to be almost on the verge of getting the story and then to see his chance slip away.

"I'm sure he was just going to tell me where Mr. Potter is," thought the reporter. "Now it means a long wait, if I ever find out at all from him."

He told Mr. Emberg what had happened. The city editor decided to follow out his first plan, of not connecting the accident at the pier with the Potter mystery.

"If he has to be operated on for a fractured skull," Mr. Emberg remarked to Larry over the wire, "he will be in no condition to tell his name, or give any information for some time. The story is safe with him. Now you'd better get busy on some other line of the case.

The _Scorcher_ is out, but they only have a scare yarn, without any foundation, to the effect that Mr. Potter is still in Italy, and that his family knows where he is."

"That's all bosh!" exclaimed Larry.

"That's what I think," the city editor said. "Now get on the job, Larry, and arrange to give us a good story for to-morrow. Keep watch of Retto, and as soon as the doctors will let you see him try again, though of course it may not be for several days."

Larry was all at sea. He hung up the telephone receiver with a vague feeling that being a reporter on a special a.s.signment was not all it was cracked up to be.

"Easy enough to say get a good story for to-morrow," he remarked to himself, "but I'd like to know how I'm going to do it? The story--the only story there is--is safe with Retto, and he can't tell it."