Not that he had any definite conviction regarding his likeness to the man he wanted; more to satisfy his conscience that he had permitted no clew to slip past him.
What made him hesitate was the way the slouch-hat shaded the intruder's face, the gas-jets not revealing the features.

Only the end of the chin was visible, and the round of the lower cheek showing above the heavy cape-collar of the overcoat.
Dalton by this time had reached the street-door, which he closed gently behind him, holding it for an instant to prevent its making a noise.
Felix lunged forward, reopened it quickly, and gazed out into the night.
Dalton had vanished as completely as if the earth had swallowed him.
Another man, who had kept his eyes on O'Day as he peered into the dark, an undersized, gaunt-looking man, sidled toward Felix and pulled at his coat sleeve.

"I ain't too early, am I?
You said eight o'clock ?" Felix looked at him keenly.

"Oh, yes, I remember--no, you are all right.
How long have you been here ?" "About half an hour." "Did you notice which way that man went who has just shut the door ?" The tramp looked about him in a helpless way.

"I wasn't lookin'.