hospital
and let us hear from you as soon as possible. Get a good story and a
beat."

"I only hope I can," murmured Larry, as he left the telephone booth
and started for the hospital to which Retto had been taken.

He had a slight acquaintance with the superintendent of the
institution, and when he explained his errand the official agreed to
let Larry in to see the man as soon as the nurses and surgeons had
finished dressing his injuries.

"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? 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 passed through rows of white
cots, on which reclined men in all stages of disease and accident.
There was a s