e more, he crowded into one of the cars again at the
last minute. He tried at first to pass through the train searching for
the man with the "good face," but the guards rebuffed him, and the
usually good-natured crowd was provoked to impatience by his squirming
efforts; and he himself soon became so exhausted in his attempt that he
gave it up. At Grand Central Station he again hurried out upon the
platform to watch the crowds getting off. The gong had begun to ring
again when he caught sight of a tall figure mounting a short flight of
stairs toward the upper platform, and he immediately knew that there was
the man he sought. The face was turned away, yet he thought he could not
be mistaken. He rushed toward the stairway, bumping into others so many
times in his haste that he really made little speed. When he reached the
top of the stairs he looked about. For one heartsick moment he thought
he had lost the man after all. Then, away across the station, near one
of the exits, he saw the tall figure again. The man was leaving the
station, and as he passed out, for a moment he turned his face toward
the crowd within; and Mr. Neal knew then that he had not been mistaken.

To the little clerk it seemed an age before he could reach the exit
through which the tall figure had passed. He ran around people and
dodged and ducked, oblivious of the curious watching of the crowd. At
last he gained the exit. The tall man was nowhere to be seen.

Mr. Neal found himself on Forty-Second Street, east of Fourth Avenue. It
was night, and the December wind pierced his clothing and cut to his
very bones like a knife. He buttoned his sack coat up tightly and turned
up the collar. He decided to walk east down Forty-Second Street, in the
hope of seeing the face again. He walked very rapidly, impelled both by
the desire to keep as warm as possible, and the thought that whatever
chance he had of finding the man would be lost if he did not hurry.

As he stood for a moment on the curb before crossing Lexington Avenue,
halted by a long string of passing automobiles, he thought he saw the
tall man at about the middle of the next block. Taking his life in his
hands, he scurried across the street, dodging in and out among the
vehicles with the curses of drivers in his ears. But he got across
safely, and now he was certain that he had been right: there was the
tall figure he could not mistake. Now he gained on the man, who turned
south into Third Avenue.