The death of Custer Kipp, the nabob, startled the whole city.
For some time New York had been in the midst of a carnival of crime, but this murder capped the climax.
No one thought of the other case, that got into the newspapers at the same time.
The death of Jason Marrow in his little den near the mouth of the alley did not take up half the space, and the reporters did not care to discuss it.
But the life of the millionaire was published; his past was ventilated so far as the reporters knew it, and they made out that he was one of the pillars of the metropolis, and there were loud calls for swift and certain vengeance.
Old Broadbrim was not to be found.
The inspector probably knew what had become of him, for he put Hargraves and Irwin on the case, and intimated that for once the Quaker detective would not stand between the pair, nor wrest from them the laurels to be gained in the Fifth Avenue mystery.
Custer Kipp did not go to the morgue, but Jason Marrow did.
The surgeons went at him in the most approved style, and decided, after more cutting than was necessary, that the man had died from strangulation.
The forenoon of the day after the discovery of the murder on the avenue, Old Broadbrim went back to Clippers' house.