Allan went straight ahead into the cross street upon which the alley opened. If Dobbs had been playing a trick upon him, it might be that he was waiting here somewhere. But there was no sign of the detective.
Whether it was a joke or not, Allan made up his mind not to worry any more over finding Dobbs. Possibly the detective might come back to the place from which he had disappeared. Perhaps he was in one of these houses. But there was no way of telling where he was, or when he would come if he did come. Allan had been in New York before. He knew his way to the Grand Central Station. That did not trouble him. Yet he was disappointed in losing so good a guide as Dobbs.
However, there were still two hours of picture-making daylight left, and he determined to use these as best he might on his own account. They had not lingered in Chatham Square, and Allan walked again in that direction, and down into Chatham Street to Newspaper Row and the City Hall. On his way he came across a pretzel man with a store of salty pretzels strung on a stick.
In City Hall Park Allan found a group that excited his interest. The group of men and boys were in a circle, and made up such a good picture that Allan sighted his camera at a distance of twenty feet and pressed the trigger. Then he went forward to satisfy his curiosity.
“The group of men and boys in a circle.”
“What’s the matter?” Allan asked of a man who was turning away.
“Craps,” answered the man, grinning.
Pressing forward into the group, Allan heard the click of pennies and caught a glimpse of a boy’s grimy hand tossing some dice on the stones. When some one uttered a peculiar exclamation, the owner of the grimy hand and half a dozen other boys darted out of the centre of the crowd, and fled in great haste, leaving on the stones one of the dice, which an onlooker picked up. Then Allan understood that the boys had been gambling and that some one had sighted a policeman; a fact which gave him food for thought as he crossed the square again and walked up Centre Street. He had determined to move again in the direction of the Grand Central.
While he was thinking of the boys and the policeman and how much of life in this part of New York seemed to be made up of a battle between the two, he caught sight of the Tombs prison, which had been half torn down and patched up again since he saw it once before.