“Will you?  Really?  That will be fine!” and, before she was aware of what she was doing, Grace had held out her hand.  Larry gave it a firm grip, and the girl blushed.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have done that!” she said.  “I’m always doing things on impulse.  I don’t even know your name.  I must call you Mr. Reporter,” and she smiled.

“I’m Larry Dexter,” said our hero, blushing a bit himself.  “I know your name, so now I suppose we may consider ourselves introduced.”

“I guess so, though it isn’t strictly according to form.  But never mind.  This is no time for ceremonies.  I hope you will have news for me—­soon.”

“So do I,” answered Larry as he took his leave.

The young reporter was soon in that neighborhood of the city where was situated the deserted tenement in which he believed there was some mystery.  As he approached the ramshackle old structure he noticed a figure pacing up and down in front of it.

“If that’s the lunatic inventor of the airship I think I’ll pass on the other side,” Larry said to himself.  It was dark in that section of the city, the electric lights being few and far between.  However, as the figure approached, and as Larry continued on, the youth saw he had nothing to fear, for it was that of his friend, Policeman Higgins.

“Well,” asked Larry, as he came up.  “Anything new?”

This is the reporter’s form of greeting to almost everyone he meets, and means:  “Have you any news for me?”

“Good-evening,” replied Officer Higgins.  “I was just thinking about you.”

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

“No, I was wishing you’d happen along.  You remember we were talking the other night about a strange man that you thought was in here?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s in here now, and I’m going to see what he’s up to.  The crazy old professor, with his airship, has moved out, and the house is deserted except for this new bird.  I’m going to raid his nest, for I suspect he’s up to no good.  I’ve been watching his light for some time, and he’s moving around in several rooms.  Maybe he’s going to set fire to the place.”

“Going to tackle him alone?” asked Larry.

“No, I’ve telephoned to the sergeant to send me a man to help me go through the shack, for though I’m not a coward I’ve no hankering to go in that shell after dark, knowing a man may be waiting for me with a knife or a gun.”

“I’ll stay here and see what happens,” said Larry.

“Come along in with us if you like,” went on Higgins, for he had taken a liking to the young reporter.  “You may get a story out of it.  Here comes Storg now,” he added, as the form of another bluecoat was seen approaching down the street.

The two officers held a brief consultation.  Higgins showed where a light was nickering back and forth between two rooms on one side of the building, about the third story up.

“It’s been going that way for the last hour,” said Higgins.  “I’m going in now.  Get your gun ready, Storg.  You may not need it, but, if you do, it’s best to have it handy.”