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Updated: June 3, 2025
May we see him?" "Hamden Potter!" exclaimed the superintendent. "That's who he is," declared Larry. "He went by the name Mah Retto while he was away. May we go up now?" "I am sorry," said the superintendent slowly, "but that patient escaped from the ward about half an hour ago, and we have not been able to trace him!" "Escaped!" cried Larry. "My father gone again!" gasped Grace.
The man, evidently believing that he was safe, emerged from the park to the street, for the whole pursuit had gone on not far from the thoroughfare, and just within the boundary of the city's breathing spot. Larry, keeping in the shadows, watched him. He saw Retto give one more cautious look around and then, crossing the highway, enter a hotel nearby.
He started to run across the thoroughfare, but, as he did so, he saw another man emerge from behind a tree, next to the one where Sullivan had been concealed. And, as the light from an arc lamp gleamed on this man's face, Larry saw it was that of Mah Retto. The young reporter paused, undecided what to do.
In his eagerness to catch Retto, Larry had rather lost sight of his more important duties, and, as he looked at his watch, he found he had no time to spare if the Leader was to have a story that day. He looked for the blue sign, indicating a public telephone station, and saw one a few doors down the street. On his way there he ran over in his mind the points of the story.
Thus musing Larry looked for a telephone station and soon the story of Retto's accident was being sent over the wire to the city editor. "This will make a fine lead for our Potter story," said Larry, as he finished telling of the accident. "I've got another plan," said Mr. Emberg. "What is it?" "Do you think anyone else knows who Retto is? I mean anyone on the pier who saw him hurt?"
Passengers do not, as a rule, care to sail in a ship under the command of one whose vessel has been lost. So poor Captain Tantrella was now only in charge of a freighter, and he felt his disgrace keenly. "Do you remember a passenger named Mah Retto, who sailed with you on the Olivia?" the reporter asked. "I remember him; yes. A queer sort of man. He said but little on the whole voyage.
"I think this is very important, yet I am not sure enough of it myself. I can't see Retto until the day after to-morrow. I had better wait until then. If my suspicions are confirmed I will send a message, in case they are not back by that time." Larry was about to leave the house when he saw a man coming up the front steps.
"It's only a slim chance, but a reporter has to take all that come his way." He found the room Mr. Jackson had described, and knocked on the door. There was a sound from within, as though some one had arisen from a chair. Then a voice asked: "Who's there?" "Does Mah Retto live here?" asked Larry, determining on a bold plan. Hardly had he spoken the words when the door was quickly opened.
He related some of the scenes during their wait to be rescued, told of the high seas and terrible winds, and painted a vivid picture of the dangers. Larry wrote it in his best style and hurried back to the telegraph office. There was only one passenger missing, and the name of this one, according to the purser's list, was Mah Retto.
"How is he?" asked Larry. The superintendent called over a private telephone connected with the ward where Retto had been taken: "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?
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