Great placards, at first but a blur of colour, suddenly forced themselves in concrete form upon his consciousness.

Letters a foot high leaped out at him: "THE DOUBLE LIFE." There was the picture of a banker in his private office hastily secreting a forged paper as the hero in the guise of a clerk entered; the companion picture was the banker in convict stripes staring out from behind the barred doors of a cell.

There seemed a ghastly augury in the coincidence.

Why should a thing like that be thrust upon him to shake his nerve when he needed nerve now more than he had ever needed it in his life before?
He raised his hand to jerk aimlessly at the brim of his hat, dropped his hand abruptly to his side again, and started quickly, hurriedly away through the throng around him.

A sort of savagery had swept upon him.
In a flash he had made his decision.