“Let’s walk down Sixth Avenue,” said Merry, and they turned that way, leaving Broadway, glowing with thousands of electric lights, behind.
Over their heads rumbled the elevated trains, beneath the trestles of which ran the surface trolleys. The avenue looked dark and dingy in comparison with “Beautiful Broadway,” for at night the portion of Broadway between Twenty-third and Forty-second Streets is really fascinating and attractive.
On Broadway the greater part of the pedestrians had been well dressed and fashionable in appearance. Barely had they turned into Sixth Avenue when the general appearance of the people changed.
Dick suddenly clutched Frank’s arm with a crushing grip.
“Look!” he excitedly breathed, seeming to quiver from head to feet. “There he is!”
He pointed to a bearded man who had paused to look at the chronometer in the window of a jeweler’s small shop, having in hand his own watch, which he was setting to correspond with the correct time.
“Who is it?” asked Frank quietly.
“The man Inza met at the Grand Central!” hissed Starbright. “The one she called Walter! That is the man!”