The Black Master

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IT was morning on Wall Street. Crowds of people were moving hurriedly along the pavements of that man-made ravine that threads its way through the heart of New York's financial district. Viewed from the buildings above, they appeared as tiny creatures.

Two men turned into the thoroughfare from a side sweet. They jostled their way through a cluster of people who were waiting on the curb, and walked leisurely, side-by-side, down Wall Street.

There was nothing in the appearance of these men to attract attention. They seemed typical of the drab passers-by who are seen constantly in that part of Manhattan.

One man was carrying a briefcase. That, alone, distinguished him from his companion.

Both were oblivious of their surroundings. They paid no attention to the walls of the huge buildings that loomed on either side of them. They came to a spot where construction was underway and they were forced to cross to the other side of the narrow street.

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