And by morning, Carton saw, Grantham's words were nearly fulfilled already, since it was panic indeed that had almost settled upon the city. The newspapers were in a state approaching frenzy. The Invisible Master had struck again, had followed his daring daylight bank-robbery by another robbery and cold-blooded murder as terrible. He was abroad, he was invisible, and he was a killer! A thousand alarms of the Invisible Master's presence were pouring into police headquarters from citizens who had heard inexplicable sounds or the like. The police sought to track down some of these, but were near the limit of their efforts. They had broadcast photographs of Gray in case he should assume visibility at times, had endeavored to have a watch kept for the larger bills stolen, but more they could not do. Through all that morning a chill of terror hung over New York, the pall of the Invisible Master's rule. Many stores and banks did not open on that morning. Others that did had hastily-devised turnstiles and like devices, and armed guards at every door. Crowds in streets and stores were at a minimum. Every hour saw new panics as a cry went up that the Invisible Master was present. All New York, Carton saw, was waiting with nerves on the ragged edge to hear whether the dread unseen figure stalking the city's ways would strike again. Then just at noon fear-mad voices were shouting and presses were roaring and newsboys were bawling as there came to the city the dread word it awaited--the news of the Invisible Master's third crime. Even Carton blanched at the horror of that crime, for in it three men had gone to death. The three had been partners in the importing firm of Van Duyck, Jackson, Sunetti and Allen, with offices on lower Broadway. Upon that morning they had met to dissolve the partnership in question, there having been some strong differences between them on business policies. A large amount of cash and negotiable securities had been brought to their office for the purpose. According to Allen, the only one of the four to survive, they had been working out their accounts when in the morning's mail had come a brief letter signed by the Invisible Master. He had said that the partners were to gather the sum of one hundred thousand dollars in cash and securities, place it in a suitcase, and appoint one of their number to sally forth along Broadway with it at the exact hour of eleven, when he, the Invisible Master, would take possession of it. Unless one went forth with it at that hour, he would enter and their lives would pay the forfeit.