Rodger Pardee writes: 

   It was with an odd little shock of recognition that I read “Call Me Larry” and recognized Rick Brant as the inspiration for Larry Peters—right down to the illustration for “The Shapely Brunette.” It’s more than nostalgia that would create this kind of affectionate parody . . . of juvenile fiction. . . . 
   These juvenile mysteries played a very valuable role for kids, because the stories dealt with somewhat tough-minded situations while still avoiding the seamier details of adult fiction. They gave kids stories that contained just the right amount of grit; the heroes would not be suspicious or cynical by nature, but would learn not to take things at face value. These books were important because they helped smooth a rough transition, but this type of storytelling has largely passed from the scene. . . .
   Sam Epstein [was known] by his pseudonym of Bruce Campbell. It turns out that “Campbell” was Epstein and his wife Beryl. They had authored many popular children’s books—titles like “All About Submarines” and such—but the books they wrote as Bruce Campbell were a series of mystery stories for boys revolving around a hero named Ken Holt. . . . It also turns out that Sam Epstein had been friendly with . . . a man named Hal Goodwin who wrote, as John Blaine, a series of “Rick Brant Adventures.” 
   It’s sad to realize that Peter Leroy’s dilemma [in Leaving Small’s Hotel] about adding “a little action” to the Larry Peters series is based on fact. 
 Epstein's books didn’t sell as well as some other kids’series—for one thing, he was a real author, not a syndicate hiding behind a pen name—but mostly, he was writing books that were much better than they had to be; he deliberately left out easily exploitable razzle-dazzle and made up for it with intelligence and high moral standards and a delight in good craftsmanship. . . . 
   Poking around in a used bookstore, I was flipping through a book and out fluttered a little pamphlet about series books printed up by an outfit called “The Mystery and Adventure Series Review” and published by a Fred Woodworth in Tucson. The pamphlet was several years old but on a whim I wrote to the address anyway, looking to subscribe, and got back a nice reply and a sample issue which was full of articles about the Rick Brant and Ken Holt series (Fred’s personal favorites) as well as others. Fred turns out to be quite a character—”iconoclast” doesn't really do him justice. (Among other things he’s the editor of an anarchist magazine called The Match.) He managed to become friendly with Harold Goodwin (John Blaine) and even printed a final Rick Brant book that Goodwin’s publishers had rejected and which Goodwin revised shortly before his death in 1990. 
   Of course now there are a number of websites that deal with these subjects (they lack the flavor added by Woodworth’s diatribes, though.) Here’s one you might find interesting; in the “articles” section of the site there is “A Rick Brant Reminiscence” by John Blaine in which Hal Goodwin looks back on his series writing. (His day jobs were interesting, too: years with the U. S. Information Agency, National Science Foundation, and so forth.) 

See: 

Leaving Small's Hotel: “In the face of a continuing decline in sales,” they wrote, “we have decided with extreme reluctance to write finis to the series.”
 

A Topical Guide to the Complete Peter Leroy (so far) is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, dialogues, settings, and businesses portrayed in it are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. 

All rights reserved. No part of this guide may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. 

Portions of A Topical Guide to the Complete Peter Leroy (so far) were first published by Voyager, Inc., as part of The Complete Peter Leroy (so far).

The illustration at the top of the page is an adaptation of an illustration by Stewart Rouse that first appeared on the cover of the August 1931 issue of Modern Mechanics and Inventions. The boy at the controls of the aerocycle doesn’t particularly resemble Peter Leroy—except, perhaps, for the smile.