"Danny boy, you stay here in the hotel and have your bath, I'll go out and pay my very slight respects to Broadway.

Doubtless, by the time you're in pajamas, I'll be back, and with all my longing for wandering satisfied." "Then, if you really don't mind---" "Not at all, old chap! So long! Back in a little while." Through the bathroom that connected their two rooms at the Allsordia Hotel, Dave Darrin stepped into his own apartment.
Having donned coat and top-coat, Darrin picked up his new derby hat and stepped to his room door.

In another half minute he was going down on the elevator.

Then he stepped into the street.
Dave Darrin was young, healthy, happy, reasonably good-looking.
His top-coat and gray suit were well tailored.

Yet, save for his erect, military carriage, there was nothing to distinguish him from the thousands of average well-dressed young men who thronged Broadway after dark on this evening in late March.
For perhaps fifteen blocks he strolled uptown.