"If you're trapped, call Plaza nine-double-o-one and
say 'Benvenuto Cellini.'"
Larry had no idea what that swift instruction might be about. And the
chance seemed a slender, fantastical one, even if he could safely get
to a public telephone. But it seemed his only chance.
He arose, and, keeping as much as he could to the wilder regions of
the park, and making the utmost use of shadows when he had to cross a
path or a drive, he stole southward. He remembered a drug-store at
Eighty-Fourth Street and Columbus Avenue, peculiarly suited to his
purpose, for it had a side entrance on Eighty-Fourth Street and was
in a neighborhood where policemen were infrequent.
Fortune favored him. At length he reached Eighty-Fourth Street and
peered over the wall. Central Park West was practically empty of
automobiles, for the theaters had not yet discharged their crowds and
no policeman was in sight. He vaulted the wall; a minute later he was
in a booth in the drug-store, had dropped his nickel in the slot, and
was asking for Plaza nine-double-o-one.
"Hello, sir!" responded the very correct voice of a man.
"Benvenuto Cellini," said Larry.
"Hold the wire, sir," said the voice.
Larry held the wire, wondering. After a moment the same correct voice
asked where Larry was speaking from.
Pages:
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122