ten o'clock
Where could he be going ? He came to the head of the street of coin and crime and crossed Broadway . His path was blocked by the fence surrounding old Trinity 's churchyard . Grasping the pickets in either hand he stared at the crumbling headstones of those guardsmen of Mammon who once walked the earth and fought their heart battles , as he was walking and fighting , but who now knew no ten o'clock , no three , who looked upon the stock-gamblers and dollar-trailers as they looked upon the worms that honeycombed their headstones ' bases . What thoughts went through Bob Brownley 's mind only his Maker knew . For minutes he stood motionless , then he walked on down Broadway . He went into the Battery .