His manner became more alert, and his glance clearer.
When he found himself able to think, he determined that his first move must be to find Carlin, and that very night.

It had been some weeks since he had visited the ship-chandler.

He had tried the latch several times, and would have repeated his visits had not a bystander told him that Carlin was in the country fitting out a yacht for one of his customers and would not be back for a month.

The time was now up.
And yet, when he thought it all over, could he, in view of this new phase of the case, seek Carlin's help and advice?
What might be better--and his heart gave a bound--would be to see Father Cruse.

The woman whom Kitty had picked up might be one of his waifs, who, overcome by fatigue or illness after leaving the church, had fallen on the door-step where the policeman had found her.
At six o'clock he left the shop with a formal good night to Kling, a hasty, almost abrupt good-by to Masie, and, without a word of any kind to Kitty, whose quiet scrutiny he dreaded, bent his steps to a small eating-room in the basement of one of the old-time private houses in Lexington Avenue, where he sometimes took his meals.