Directly opposite the main entrance was a vacant plot of ground, with a frontage of an entire block and a depth of four hundred feet.

Big white signs upon each corner told that it was for sale by Mallard & Tyne.

They stopped in front of this location, while both Johnny and Polly ranged their eyes upward, by successive steps, to the roof garden which surmounted the twentieth story of Johnny's imaginary Terminal Hotel.
"It's a nifty-looking building, Johnny!" she complimented him as they turned to each other with sheepish smiles.
"I'm going to tear it down and put up a better one," he briskly told her.

"I'll hand you a piece of private information.

If the big railroad company which built this terminal station doesn't own that blank space it's a fool--and I don't think it is.