one o'clock
In a few days , when an afternoon 's relief allowed him the time , Officer 4434 decided to visit the renowned William Trubus . He found the address of that patron of organized philanthropy in the telephone book at the station house . It was on Fifth Avenue , not far from the windswept coast of the famous Flatiron Building . Burke started up to the building shortly before one o'clock , and he found it difficult to make his way along the sidewalks of the beautiful avenue because of the hordes of men and girls who loitered about , enjoying the last minutes of their luncheon hour . Where a few years before had been handsome and prosperous shops , with a throng of fashionably dressed pedestrians of the city 's better classes on the sidewalks , the district had been taken over by shirtwaist and cloak factories . The ill-fed , foul-smelling foreigners jabbered in their native dialects , ogled the gum-chewing girls and grudgingly gave passage-way to the young officer , who , as usual , when off duty , wore his civilian clothes . `` I wonder why these factories do n't use the side streets instead of spoiling the finest avenue in America ? ''