Toward seven o'clock he was studying the present decrepitude and future possibilities of a row of Sherwood apartment houses on the West Side, when, as he came out of one building and started into another, a firm hand fell upon his shoulder and a voice remarked: "So, Larry, you're in New York ?" Larry whirled about.

For the moment he felt all the life go out of him.
Beside him stood Detective Casey, whom he had last seen on the night of his wild flight when Casey had feigned a knockout in order to aid Larry's escape from Gavegan.

Any other man affiliated with his enemies Larry would have struck down and tried to break away from.

But not Casey.
"Hello, Casey.

Well, I suppose you're going to invite me to go along with you ?" "Where were you going ?" "Into this house." "Then I'll invite myself to go along with you." He quickly pushed Larry before him into the hallway, which was empty since all the tenants were at their dinner.