"Some cheap woman foolery ?" His practiced eye soon told him of the lad's determined purpose.
For, in all the hovering movements, the office boy never left one or the other front of the bank building.
And none of the loungers, no street waif, no bedaubed siren lingered in colloquy there in the shadows of the respected fiduciary institution.

"It's a poor fishing ground for the fancy," growled McNerney, as he suddenly darted forward in pursuit.
A woman, whose gliding walk and shapely voluptuousness of body indicated the Polish Jewess, paused, and bending her head, without a word of salutation, listened to the eager lad.

The hands of the two met, in the darkness, and then Einstein sped back into the glaring Bowery, while the dark-robed woman pursued her way toward the East River.
"No bad walker," was McNerney's forced conclusion, as he gathered himself.

The unknown had swept around the corner from the south and turned eastwardly to meet the waiting lad, with the sure gait of one who knew she was waited for.
On, onward, with undulating lissom swing, the veiled woman sped, McNerney judiciously regulating his gait.

And all her settled purpose was evident in the measured flight, the head never once turned in curious gaze, and the singularity of her march.
At last, halting before a respectable-looking tenement-house on First Avenue, the woman turned into the open hallway and paused at the door of the lefthand apartment.
In an instant there was a flash of light within, and then the dimly outlined shadows of a woman moving from behind the linen curtains.
"Fairly run to earth! It's a good night's work!" laughed McNerney.
"Things are going my way at last!" He hastened off and, jumping on the nearest car, sought his own home by a round-about way.