Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER III THE INTERVAL It is impossible to describe the emotions which surged within the heart and brain and being of John Ashton when he left the bank and walked through the almost deserted streets of the city. The thought of escape had not yet occurred to him, and when the door closed behind him, he actually paused and stood there upon the steps; paused and waited without any object in view, for he was objectless at that moment. There was still a number of hours that must intervene between that time and the period when the city would be astir with the busy life of another day. He stroked his black, pointed beard, thoughtfully, and now and then twisted nervously upon the ends of his moustache. His face was white and set, but it betrayed nothing of the tempest that was raging within him. Presently he started away aimlessly, not because he desired to go anywhere, but because he found solace in the exertion of walking, and he strode on and on, - until he stood at the entrance to the park just as the darkness began to give way to dawn and the birds commenced to twitter among the trees. He turned toward the west, wandering onward with the same slow tread, vaguely intending to return to the bank when it should be time for the business of the day to begin; and so, when he arrived at the junction of Fifty-ninth street and Broadway, he turned southward again, and he pursued that course until he arrived at Sixth Avenue, which he followed for a considerable distance. A barber was opening his shop — a basement shop, near Twenty-fifth Street — as he passed, and it occurred to Ashton that a shampoo would do much to dispel the confusion in his brain. He entered and seated himself in the chair, and while the barber was placing the towel around his neck, he said carelessly:...