"But the tall man was not there," resumed Mr. Neal. "I knocked at the
door and asked about him. The woman didn't know; no man was in their
rooms, she said. She was a poor widow. She wanted to know how I got in.
I could see I was frightening her, so I left, and I could hear the door
locked behind me."

The little clerk sighed, and passed his hand over his eyes.

His friend rose suddenly.

"Come," he said. "Let's walk--and talk about something else."

This was but the first of many talks the two clerks had about the face.
Mr. Neal's friend became more and more sympathetic toward the quest. One
afternoon Mr. Neal detained the chief clerk as he was leaving the office
after work. The little clerk's eyes were very serious, and his voice was
low as he said:

"John, I know that I am going to find him very soon. I know it."

"How do you know it?" asked the chief clerk. "Something--well--psychic?"

"Oh, no. It's not mysterious. It's just a--a certainty, John. I know I
shall find him very, very soon."

"Well, you know--" and the chief clerk looked at Mr. Neal steadily, "you
know that I--I should like to know him, too."

Mr. Neal wrung his friend's hand. They went down together in the
elevator, and parted. Mr. Neal hurried down into his subway station.
There were not many waiting on the platforms. Far down the black tunnels
in either direction the little white lights glimmered. The echoing
silence of a great cave was in the station. Then suddenly the red and
green lights of a train appeared far away; then a rumble and a roar, the
doors of the train slid open and Mr. Neal stepped in. All the way home
he kept his eyes shut. The hurtling roar, the crush of people growing
greater as they approached the great business sections, the calls of
the guards, did not disturb Mr. Neal. He kept his eyes closed so he
might see the face.

It was about one o'clock of the next day that the accident occurred of
which James Neal was the victim. He had been trying to cross the street
in defiance of traffic regulations, and had been struck by a heavily
loaded truck and knocked down, with some injury to his skull. He had
been taken, unconscious, to St. Cecilia's Hospital.

Little work was done by the clerks of Fields, Jones & Houseman that
afternoon. One of the clerks had seen the accident; indeed he had been
talking to Mr. Neal just before the latter had rushed into the street.
He had seen the little clerk suddenly raise his hand and point