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Page 4
Larry cashed the order Mr. Emberg had given him, and hurried to the
railroad station. He found there was no train for an hour, and,
telephoning to the city editor to that effect, received permission
to go home and get some extra clothing, as he might have to stay
away several days.
The young reporter rather startled his mother as he hurried in to
tell her he was going out of town, but Mrs. Dexter had, in a
measure, become used to her son doing all sorts of queer things
since he had started in newspaper life.
"Will you be gone long, Larry?" she asked, as he kissed her
good-bye, having packed a small valise.
"Can't say, mother. Probably not more than two days."
"Bring me some sea shells," begged Larry's brother, Jimmie, a
bright little chap.
"And I want a lobster and a crab and a starfish," spoke Mary, a
sunny-haired toddler.
"All right, and I'll bring Lucy some shells to make beads of,"
answered Larry, mentioning his older sister, who was not at home.
Larry found he had not much time left to catch his train, and he was
obliged to hurry to the ferry which took him to Jersey City. There
he boarded a Pennsylvania Railroad train, and was soon being whirled
toward the coast.
Seven Mile Beach was a rather dangerous stretch of the Jersey shore,
not far from Cape May. There were several lighthouses along it, but
they did not always prevent vessels from running on a long sand bar,
some distance out. More than one gallant ship had struck far up on
it, and, being unable to get off, had been pounded to pieces by the
waves.
By inquiring Larry found that the wreck of the _Olivia_ was just off
a lonely part of the coast, and that there were no railroad stations
near it.
"Where had I better get off?" he asked, of the conductor.
"Well, you can get off at Sea Isle City, or Sackett's Harbor. Both
stations are about five miles from where the ship lies, according to
all accounts. Then you can walk."
"He can do better than that," interposed a brakeman.
"How?" asked Larry.
"There's a station, or rather what remains of it, half way between
those places," the brakeman said. "It used to be called Miller's
Beach. Started to be a summer resort, but it failed. There's nothing
there now but a few fishermen's huts. But I guess that's nearer the
wreck than Sea Isle City or Sackett's Harbor."
"Is there a place I could stay all night?" asked the young reporter.
"You might find a place. It's pretty lonesome. Sometimes, in the
summer, there are campers there, but it's too late in the fall now
to expect any of 'em. We'll stop there for water, and you can get
off if you like."
Larry hardly knew what to do. Still he decided he was sent to get a
story of the wreck, and he felt it would be well to get as near to
it as possible. But there was another thing to think of, and that
was how to get his news back into the _Leader_ office. He must be
near a telegraph station. Inquiry of the trainmen disclosed the fact
that the nearest one was three miles from Miller's Beach.
"Guess I'll chance it," concluded Larry.
"We'll be there in an hour," went on the brakeman. "It's the
jumping-off place, so to speak, and it's not going to be very
pleasant there when the storm breaks."
That a heavy storm was gathering was all too evident from the mass
of dark, rolling clouds in the east. They hung low, and there was a
rising wind.
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