ten o'clock
`` For if Clayton gets into any trouble , out he goes ! There 's no money in him then , and he 's no good to Fritz Braun , no more to me . This news ought to fetch me a couple of twenties if well played . '' It was ten o'clock when Emil Einstein sprang down the stairway of the eastern terminus of the Brooklyn Bridge . The lad was blithe at heart as he turned to the left and , passing through the seething press of the crowds congested under the electric lights of Sands and Fulton Streets , carefully reconnoitered a gorgeous saloon on the corner of Layte and Dale Streets . Einstein peered in through the two swinging doors of the front , and then betook himself to the side entrance on Dale Street , where the `` Family Entrance , '' the private corridor , and one or two halls admitted him to the restaurant , card rooms and private rooms of the ground floor of the five-story corner brick building . The youth recoiled , after a peep through a ground glass door left ajar , at the glories of the main hall of the famous `` Valkyrie '' saloon .