noon
`` I 'm N. G. -- that 's a cinch ! The sooner I chuck it the better ! '' Caught in the swirl of the busy city 's midday rush , engulfed in Broadway 's swift moving flood of hustling humanity , jostled unceremoniously by the careless , indifferent crowds , discouraged from stemming further the tide of pushing , elbowing men and women who hurried up and down the great thoroughfare , Howard Jeffries , tired and hungry and thoroughly disgusted with himself , stood still at the corner of Fulton street , cursing the luck which had brought him to his present plight . It was the noon hour , the important time of day when nature loudly claims her due , when business affairs , no matter how pressing , must be temporarily interrupted so that the human machine may lay in a fresh store of nervous energy . From under the portals of precipitous office buildings , mammoth hives of human industry , which to right and left soared dizzily from street to sky , swarmed thousands of employees of both sexes -- clerks , stenographers , shop-girls , messenger boys , all moved by a common impulse to satisfy without further delay the animal cravings of their physical natures . They strode along with quick , nervous step , each chatting and laughing with his fellow , interested for the nonce in the day 's work , making plans for well-earned recreation when five o'clock should come and the up-town stampede for Harlem and home begin . The young man sullenly watched the scene , envious of the energy and activity of all about him .