CHAPTER XXIMontague started to walk. He had no idea where he went; his mind was in a whirl, and he was lost to everything about him. He must have spent a couple of hours wandering about the park and the streets of the city; when at last he stopped and looked about him, he was on a lighted thoroughfare, and a big clock in front of a jewellery store was pointing to the hour of two.
He looked around. Immediately across the street was a building which he recognised as the office of the Express; and in a flash he thought of Bates. “Come in after the paper has gone to press,” the latter had said.
He went in and entered the elevator.
“I want to see Mr. Bates, a reporter,” he said.
“City-room,” said the elevator man; “eleventh floor.”
Montague confronted a very cross andsleepy-looking office-
