and a flash of intuition enabled him to
pronounce upon its true character at first sight. He was now at the very
heart of the city's social and intellectual life; here, if anywhere, he
might expect to find one of the magnificent libraries upon which the
ancient municipality had prided itself. He must decide the question,
and, after some further searching, he discovered a side door that
yielded to his touch.

He was right, then; this was truly a library, and could he ever have
imagined that there were so many books in the world! A cloud of dust
rose under his feet as he went up to the cases and tried to read the
tarnished titles of the volumes on the shelves. Again Chance led him
aright, and his eye brightened as he discovered an unpretentious volume
that proclaimed itself: _The Official Visitors' Guide to the City of New
York for the Year 1905_. He pulled out the book and opened it. Of course
it contained what he wanted, a large folding map, and spreading the
latter out upon a table Constans set himself to studying it earnestly;
this was his enemy's territory, and he must acquaint himself as
thoroughly as possible with its points of weakness and its points of
strength.

The task of identification proved easier than he had thought possible.
Here was where he had landed the night before. Step by step he could
trace his walk up-town, and the identity of the building in which he now
stood was made certain by the ruins of the great white cathedral a few
blocks farther north. And there, a dozen or more blocks to the south,
there was the citadel, the living heart of the outlaw world, there was
the stronghold in which one Quinton Edge sat secure and at his ease. A
cold misgiving suddenly struck at Constans's heart. How could he hope to
make way alone against a host? How could he think to reach an enemy
protected by these impregnable walls? For such a task he would need to
wield the thunderbolts of the gods, and he had only his useless pistol
and his long bow. He sighed and let his head droop for a moment, then
felt ashamed of his weakness and straightened up again. The way was
there; he would find it.

Mechanically, his eyes roved along the serried shelves of books, and a
new light came into them. In these dusty tomes themselves were hidden
the keys of power; he had but to seize them and the secrets of the
mighty past would be revealed to him, to him alone. Armed with these
potencies he might dare and accomplish anything--ev