Pausing automatically, he glanced carelessly at the
contents, and was about to resume his way when he
caught sight of a small card propped against a broken
pitcher. "Choice Articles Bought and Sold--Advances
Made."

Suddenly he stopped. Something seemed to interest
him. To make sure that he had read the card aright,
he bent closer. Evidently satisfied by his scrutiny, he
drew himself erect and moved toward the shop door
as if to enter. Through the glass he saw a man in
shirt-sleeves, packing. The sight of the man brought
another change of mind, for he stepped back and raised
his head to a big sign over the front. His face now came
into view, with its well-modelled nose and square chin--
the features of a gentleman of both refinement and intelligence.
A man of forty--perhaps of forty-five--
clean-shaven, a touch of gray about his temples, his
eyes shadowed by heavy brows from beneath which
now and then came a flash as brief and brilliant as an
electric spark. He might have been a civil engineer,
or some scientist, or yet an officer on half pay.

"Otto Kling, 445 Fourth Avenue," he repeated to
himself, to make sure of the name and location. Then,
with the quick movement of a man suddenly imbued
with new purpose, he wheeled, leaped the overflowed
gutter, and walked rapidly until he reached 13th Street.
Half-way down the block he entered the shabby doorway