He would turn off at the next block.
He was in front of that moving-picture theatre again.

"THE DOUBLE LIFE"-- his eyes were attracted involuntarily to the lurid, overdone display.

It seemed to threaten him; it seemed to dangle before him a premonition as it were, of what the morning held in store; but now, too, it seemed to feed into flame that smouldering fury that possessed him.
His life--or Whitey Mack's! Men, women, and the children who turned night into day in that quarter of the city were clustered thick around the signs, hiving like bees to the bald sensationalism.

Almost savagely he began to force his way through the crowd--and the next instant, like a man stunned, had stopped in his tracks.

His fingers had closed in a fierce, spasmodic clutch over an envelope that had been thrust suddenly into his hand.
"JIMMIE!" from somewhere came a low, quick voice.