The Barrel Mystery

CHAPTER XII
A KNOCK AT THE DOOR AT 2 A. M.

"Bernardo and Giglio lighted a lamp and opened the door. A well dressed man wearing a fur overcoat and a fur cap, a man about thirty years old, ran toward Uncle Vincent and embraced him, kissing him on the cheeks.

"Following Ignazio (Lupo), came Cecala, Sylvester, Cina and an elderly man who had gray hair and moustache, a man of more than fifty years old, elegantly dressed, and wearing a gold watch and chain and a large diamond ring. After Cecala had introduced me to Ignazio Lupo and the elderly man, named Uncle Salvatore, they requested Caterina to get up and prepare a meal, as the early morning visitors were hungry and had brought meat and wine. The new arrivals were very courteous to Caterina, especially Lupo, who appeared to be a man of great politeness.

"Lupo talked some with Caterina and asked her if she liked the place, to which Caterina answered that it was cold in the house and that she suffered from hunger. Lupo assured her that he would see that we were provided for amply hereafter, and wrote down on a piece of paper what Caterina suggested in the way of food-stuffs. Lupo then instructed Sylvester to take the note down to New York to Mrs. Lupo, who would have the goods shipped up to Highland. We never saw the goods, though!

"While Caterina was frying about six pounds of meat, Cecala and Cina unloaded two large grips and several bundles. Lupo opened the valise and removed two repeating rifles, two revolvers and four boxes of cartridges. There were about one thousand rounds of ammunition. Lupo then instructed all the gang in the use of the rifles and the revolvers, which, he said, would shoot about fifteen shots a minute. All present complimented Lupo on his foresight, declaring that the weapons were just the thing. After a little more talk about the arms every one sat down to eat, except I and Caterina. There were no chairs left for us. We acted as waiters, serving the 'lords' of the gang!

"They were eating and drinking joyfully when Uncle Vincent turned to Lupo and said:

"'What news are you bringing, Ignazio?'

"'You all know the news. Besides, Petrosino[3] has gone to Italy.'

"'If he went to Italy, he is as good as dead,' said Uncle Vincent.

"'I hope they get him,' was the pious wish of Cina.

"'He has ruined many of us,' went on Lupo. 'It is enough to say that he had himself locked up in the Tombs Prison to interrogate the suspects and uncover crimes.'

"'Many a mother's child he has ruined,' said Uncle Salvatore (Palermo), 'and how many are still crying!'

"'What is more,' continued Lupo, 'I have given Michele, the Calabrian, his fare to —— to go and see his family, which was stricken by the earthquake.'

"'You have done well,' broke in Cecala, winking an evil eye and making a peculiar motion. Doubtless this was a secret sign. He lifted his glass and shouted: 'Let's drink our own health and to hell with that Carogna!'[4]

"The 'table talk' now turned on other things, such as the exploding of bombs by Sylvester, aided by his son and the step-brother of Morello. It appeared that they had run away after the bomb had been hurled when they were caught and brought before the judge, where they pleaded innocence and so escaped the clutches of the law. There was some talk of Lupo's business failure for a matter of about $100,000; and mention was also made of the failure of a bank in Elizabeth Street, which was controlled by Uncle Vincent.

"In spite of his business reverses Lupo was in good humor and sang several songs for the company with the bravado of the born bandit. By and by the lusty gang went to bed, occupying every bed in the house. Caterina and I remained awake. At daylight, Cina, Sylvester and Giglio left. The others remained to direct and help in the work.

"After three days of directing the work at the stone house, and trying out the guns in the woods together with Uncle Salvatore, Lupo and the latter departed. Salvatore remarking that he was going to make his home at Cina's house. Their departure left Uncle Vincent, Giglio, Bernardo and myself to do the work.

"About the twenty-third or the twenty-fourth of February, I am not certain which, I gave to Cina and Cecala the completed work on the two-dollar notes, that is: twenty thousand and four hundred dollars in counterfeit money. The bills were put up in packages of one hundred and bundled into a dress suit case. Then they started to plan the route for distributing the bad money. Cecala said that he preferred to go to Philadelphia first; then Baltimore, where he had many friends; from Baltimore they would cover Pittsburgh, Buffalo and Chicago. The counterfeit money, after being placed at each of the centers, was to be placed in circulation on a given day, so that the notes would appear simultaneously in all the cities.

"They made me take the plates off the press and hide them under a plank in the floor together with some ink. Every piece of paper with any printing on was burned. Before departing they assured Caterina and I that they would return in a week and give us some good money; also, they would then tell me whether to continue or suspend the work.

"A very lonesome week in the dreary old stone house followed. On the first Sunday in March, 1909, Cina's brother, Peppino, bobbed up. He had come to take me to Cina's house where certain people from New York wanted to talk with me. He took a boxful of the Canadian five-dollar counterfeit bills. The visitors were to determine whether the Canadian money was good enough to sell or whether it was to be burned up, so he explained.

"Upon hearing this I had a presentiment that the day of my being murdered had arrived. Without saying a word to Peppino and Cina, I called Caterina aside and told her my fears. I showed her how to use the rifle.

"'Caterina,' I said, 'in case I do not return and people come to you with any excuse, no matter what, to get you, it is a sure sign that they have assassinated me. Then shoot whoever comes after you, or they will murder you!'

"The poor woman began to cry, and I had difficulty in composing her. Unnoticed by Peppino I managed to steal Uncle Vincent's revolver, and put it into my pocket."

CHAPTER XIII
THE BLACK-HANDERS IN SESSION

"As I stepped in no one motioned to recognize me nor was my greeting returned. Mechanically I took a seat. After about ten minutes of sinister silence and ill-boding glances, Cina broke the strain as he came rushing in with Peppino, his brother, both of them laughing and shouting like madmen.

"'A boy! A boy!' they yelled.

"Cina received the congratulations of the gang. Silence once more haunted the room. Then Lupo turned to me abruptly and said:

"'Don Antonio, your work is worthless. It is a rotten job; so much so that none of it could be sold. Cina and Cecala have risked their lives in trying to sell it. However, they have sold some four thousand dollars of the counterfeit money, taking in, all in all, about one thousand dollars in genuine money. They have expended about two hundred dollars on their trip to different cities distributing our product. Therefore, there remains about eight hundred dollars, which will be divided among the ones that have advanced the first money. If you had turned out a good job we could have taken in more by selling it all. As it is about seven or eight thousand dollars have been made for the stove.

"'The Canadian money is worthless and must be burned. It cannot be put on the market. But this is no fault of yours, in this instance. It is the fault of the one who made the plates.

"'Now you watch how the money is divided. If there is any left, you get it. These men present will not accept a penny of the remainder until those who advanced the money have been settled with.'

"'As my work did not turn out well,' I replied to Lupo, 'give me only enough to return to New York.'

"'No,' broke in Morello, decisively. 'We don't know yet whether you may return to New York or whether you are to continue the work in company with another man.'

"'You want money?' asked Lupo. 'Who will give it to you? I have spent two hundred dollars and now will take that amount. There will then be but six hundred dollars to be divided.'

"'Don't do things all your own way, Ignazio,' Morello warned in his husky voice. 'Let us deliberate and argue this thing out. There are eight hundred dollars. You have spent two hundred dollars. You get seventy-five dollars now. I have spent fifty dollars and will take it now, as I need it very much, as you know. Fifty dollars we will give to Cina, twenty dollars to Don Antonio, ten to Uncle Salvatore and ten more to Uncle Vincent, five to Giglio and five to Bernardo; what is left is needed for the continuation of the work with the other plates.'

"'And the man who made the plates, don't you want to give him anything?' inquired Cecala.

"'Yes,' was the reply in chorus.

"'Well,' turning to me, 'take these twenty dollars,' said Morello, 'and return to the house. Await there the decision whether you are to return to New York or not.'

"I accepted the money and tucked it into my pocket. Then I was driven to the stone house in a carriage accompanied by Cina's brother Peppino.

"During this session with the gang some of them got busy and started to burn up the Canadian five-dollar notes, and a portion of the two-dollar American notes. These were the notes returned as worthless by the gang. While throwing the notes into the stove Uncle Salvatore and Peppino exclaimed from time to time:

"'What a shame. They might all have been sold.'

"Once more at the stone house I explained to Caterina what had happened. I told her that they had given me the twenty dollars and that I was going to go to New York and not return; of course she was to come along with me. But after thinking it over we resolved that our appearance was so miserable that we had better remain a while longer. There was also the ever-present danger that if we ran away from this gang we would be murdered. We abandoned the idea, therefore, and stayed at the stone house awaiting the orders of the gang.

"We were not kept waiting long. Next morning, Salvatore Cina came to the house in a very happy mood. He told me that I could not return to New York because the work was to be continued with other and better plates for the two-dollar notes. The five-dollar notes were to be continued, and we were to print until five million dollars had been struck off the press. This amount, he said, would make us all rich. Then the work was to cease. He told me that it had been decided to buy a horse and carriage for the exclusive use of the stone house. I was to go to New York and meet Cecala who would introduce me to the man who was to direct the work from now on. I was to tell Cina the day I intended going to New York.

"After arranging that Giglio and Bernardo were to remain with Caterina, while I was in New York and Uncle Vincent went to Newburgh on business, I said that I would be ready for my trip in two days. Then Cina left me after he had warned me not to tell any of the secrets of the place, explaining how hard it was for the police to discover the plant. He declared I must be happy in the thought of future wealth.

"On March 7, 1909, Cina returned to the stone house with a carriage, bringing Giglio and Bernardo to keep Caterina company. He drove me to the Highland station, and I got aboard the 11 A. M. train for New York. Arriving at the Grand Central station I was met by Cecala, who took me to a house at No. 5 Jones Street. Not finding the party he was seeking there, he told me to go to my aunt's house and return to the Jones Street address at eight o'clock that evening and ask for Don Peppe.

"That same evening at the appointed hour I went to the Jones Street house and inquired in a grocery store on the street floor for Don Peppe. A woman indicated to me the door where I knocked. A bald-headed man, about forty-five years old, with a nice light brown moustache opened the door.

"Cecala was there seated in a chair. He introduced me to the man who opened the door saying that he was Giuseppe Calichio, a lithograph engraver, alias Don Peppe. Cecala turned to Calichio and said:

"'Don Peppe, we are in need of your work. This man (indicating me) is a printer, but he is not capable of doing the work that we require. You must go with him and continue this work. It is already started and everything will go well. When we have printed two or three million dollars' worth we will stop. We are in luck.'

"'Unless we are discovered by the police,' replied Calichio.

"'Have no such fear,' said Cecala. 'The place where the work is done is very secure. No one would ever suspect that such a thing is going there.'

"'Listen, Cecala,' said Calichio. 'If things happen as they did when I did work for you before, then I refuse to go. I do not care to work and risk my life and then get nothing for it.'

"'No, no,' said Cecala. 'You know that that work did not turn out at all well.'

"'I know nothing other than that you caused me to sell my little printing shop, and I am in terrible condition financially even now as a result of it. If you want me to do the work you speak about in company with brother Comito here, you must give me twenty dollars a week and board. I have a family in Italy to look after, don't forget. As long as you pay me what I want I am ready to work for you; but I must be paid in advance. The first week that you fail to pay me in advance I will cease to work and come home. And what is more, my dear Cecala, I want good eating and must have wine every day; as you know there is not a day that goes by without my drinking wine that I do not get a headache. The wine gives me strength and health.'

"Cecala's answer to this was characteristic:

"'Don Peppe, I will do all that is possible to get you twenty dollars a week, but I must first talk with the others, my friends, as you know that I am not alone in this undertaking. As to the eating, you will have all that you want and there will be wine. I will have a barrel of it shipped to Highland, direct to Cina, who will see that you get some when you want it.'

"'Who is this Cina?' asked Calichio, suspiciously.

"'He is my godfather, whom you will know when you are in Highland,' said Cecala.

"'Perhaps he is that farmer whom I saw in Don Piddu's (Morello's) house last year?'

"'Precisely,' said Cecala.

"He continued: 'I will bring the first twenty dollars to-morrow. To-morrow night you will leave with Comito?'

"'All right. But first, I must see the plates and examine them to see whether they are good. If I am to do this work, it must be done perfectly. You know that I do not do things by halves. I must see whether the plates need retouching. I will bring my tools. If I am unable to use them for this work then we will buy some before leaving the city.'

"'Have no doubt,' continued Cecala. 'I will come to-morrow morning and show the plates to you, and you can take them with you.'

"'Come to-morrow about 10 A. M. with Comito, and not before ten, because I expect a person on some personal business and do not want him to see you,' counselled Calichio.

"During all this talk I did not say a word. On my way with Cecala to my aunt's house in Bleecker Street Cecala remarked:

"'Don Antonio, that man Calichio is the professor for the job. In Italy he has printed for aristocratic families, who were in hard luck. He printed for these aristocrats about three million dollars in fifty, one-hundred, five-hundred and one-thousand lire notes. This money was worked off in this country on people who were going to Italy on trips. Don Peppe is capable of transferring to lithographic stones the engraving on bank notes and then transfer the engraving from the lithographic stones on to zinc plates, and in this way perfect the plates that are necessary for our business.'

"'Is that how our plates were made?' I inquired.

"'No. Ours were made by photography and a lot of preparations are necessary by that method. It is enough to say that I have spent over a hundred dollars up-to-date for chemicals.'

"Suddenly Cecala turned on me a whispered: 'Don Antonio, what have you told your aunt?'

"'Nothing—why?'

"'Did she ask where you are working?'

"'No. She knows that I am working in Philadelphia.'

"'Good! If she asks with whom you are working in Philadelphia say that your employer is a priest, and his name is Bonaventure (——).'

"'Very well,' I replied. 'My aunt is not interested whether I am working with a priest or with a monk. I have told her that I was employed in a printing shop, nothing else.'

"'Good! You are an intelligent man, and that is why I and all my friends like you Calabrians, because you are secretive and are never corrupted. I knew a Calabrian who was arrested with counterfeit notes on him, once, and the policemen made him all kinds of promises and even punched him, in their effort to learn from him who had given him the counterfeit money to exchange; but he never told a word. He never squealed.'

"I made no reply; only shook Cecala's hand and went to my aunt's.

"The next morning, I forget whether it was the 9th or the 10th of March, I went at the given hour to Calichio's house, where I found Cecala examining the zinc plates for the two-dollar American notes, of the check letter C, plate number 1110.

"Calichio carefully examined the plates with a magnifying glass. He explained to us that the acids that were used for washing the plates were too strong and had destroyed some fine lines and that it would be necessary to retouch the plates and so raise the missing lines. He would do it himself, Calichio said, if the proper tools were brought to him. Cecala quickly answered that the tools would be bought immediately and that we were to prepare to leave for Highland that night. We then went to a hardware store on the Bowery, and Calichio selected some chisels and other tools, for which Cecala paid. As soon as we were out of the store Cecala gave Calichio his first twenty dollars in advance. Turning to me, Cecala said:

"'Don Antonio, Don Peppe and I are going to buy some chemicals. You can go away and be at Jones Street to-night at 10 P. M. ready to leave. Buy what you need, because you will not return to New York until the work is completed.'

"I went to a store and bought a pair of shoes for myself and a pair for Caterina. I also bought some little delicacies of food for her.

"That night the three of us left on the 11 P. M. train for Highland. Arriving there at 2 in the morning, we were met at the station by Peppino Cina with a carriage. He told us that we must go directly to the stone house and not stop at Cina's farm because a strange face might arouse suspicion among the neighbors. We did not work that day. We took a much-needed rest."

CHAPTER XIV
PRINTING THE BAD MONEY

"Cecala then said he would leave immediately and have the paper shipped forthwith. Turning to me Cecala gave instructions for me to be busy only at feeding the press. Don Peppe was to direct the job. I to obey the latter in every detail. Cecala then took the proofs and put them in his pocket, saying that he would show them to Ignazio and Don Piddu (Lupo and Morello) and mark the difference between this and the first job, which was mine.

"Two days later Nick Sylvester came and brought with him a suit-case full of paper which he gave to Calichio saying:

"'To-morrow Ignazio will come to see how the work is going along. In the meantime you can proceed with the work and print. I will remain to help you.'

"When Lupo arrived the next morning in company with Cecala and Cina they all came up to the work room. After examining the work they praised Calichio, telling him that they ought to give him a gold medal. As for me, I was deserved of a dirty, leather medal, the bandits hinted.

"Turning to me Lupo said, 'This homely Calabrian doesn't even deserve to be looked at. The work he did should have been burned on his head.'

"I did not reply, but played the simpleton.

"After examining the work Lupo turned to Uncle Vincent and said:

"'Uncle Vic—guess what's happened?'

"'What?'

"'Petrosino was killed in Italy.'

"'Honestly?'

"'Honestly. The papers are talking about it.'

"'I said it,' continued Uncle Vincent, 'that if Petrosino went to Italy they would kill him.'

"'Who was the hero? He deserves a medal,' said Cecala.

"'And where have they killed him?' continued Uncle Vincent.

"'In Palermo.'

"'Then it means that it was well done,' said Uncle Vincent, significantly.

"'Certainly. The way it was done it could never fail,' said Lupo.

"'And——,' Cecala said. 'This was death becoming him. How many sons of mothers he has condemned for nothing.'

"Hearing all this I asked:

"'Who is this Petrosino?'

"'He was the head of the secret police in New York,' replied Cecala. 'A homely man! Worse than the Bubonic Plague.'

"'I never heard of him.'

"'You will never meet him,' said Cecala dryly, the others grinning.

"'Then it was successful?' continued Uncle Vincent.

"'Certainly,' replied Lupo. 'It could not be successful in New York because he guarded his hide. Here he toted a revolver in his coat pocket and was guarded by two policemen a short distance behind him.'

"'It is a good example for the policemen,' continued Uncle Vincent. 'No one will now dare to go to Palermo. There they will find only sure death.'

"Cina did not talk any because he was intent on spreading the counterfeit notes out on the garret floor. When he came downstairs to the workroom, however, he said:

"'As soon as we can we must celebrate for joy; just now we will be content with a glass of wine.'

"They all went downstairs and sat at a table conversing in low voices and I could not understand what they said because the press made a noise and interfered with my hearing.

"I and Uncle Vincent continued to work at the press under Calichio's directions. Sylvester would take the notes as they were printed and spread them out on the floor in the garret to dry. Bernardo was stationed outside armed with rifle and revolver to guard the house and to 'spot' any person who might pass or prowl about the premises.

"In the afternoon of that day Lupo, Cecala, and Cina went outside and had some sport trying out their revolvers against the trees. When they returned Lupo asked Calichio how long it would take to print the ten thousand two-dollar bills. About twenty days was Calichio's estimate.

"Lupo then told Calichio that he would leave the plant, but would return at the end of the month and bring plates for five-dollar American notes. He addressed Calichio as 'dear Don Peppe' and told him to be prepared for the work and to take particular pains with the five-dollar notes, because he intended sending some of them to Italy.

"'Have no doubts,' replied Calichio. 'I have never done any work that was useless, and you know it. My work has always been perfect.'

"'Bravo, Don Peppe, we know that you are a professor at it,' said Cecala.

"That same night about six P. M. Cecala, Lupo, and Cina went away, leaving me with Calichio, Uncle Vincent, Sylvester, and Bernardo.

"During that month (March, 1909) we worked without interruption printing the two-dollar notes. About the 27th, the first twenty thousand dollars of the counterfeit two-dollar notes were ready and were turned over to Cina and Sylvester, who were to bring them to New York.

"After this first job of Calichio's workmanship had been turned over, on the last Sunday in March Lupo returned in company with Cina, Sylvester and Giglio, who brought the plates for the five-dollar notes and about twenty thousand sheets of paper upon which to print the additional money.

"Upon receiving the plates Calichio looked them over attentively and said that they were copper plates and not zinc, and that there was need of slight retouching. He detected several lines that were not shown in the photograph on the face of the note. These lines needed to be etched into the plates in the picture, which represented a farmer and an old man with a woman and a dog.

"Lupo explained to Calichio that Cecala was on the road about New York, Brooklyn and Hoboken, selling the two-dollar notes, but that as soon as he finished up this work he would return to the stone house and oversee the work there.

"Calichio prepared the press, fixed the inks, and printed the first proofs for the green side of the five-dollar notes. These were pronounced very good by Lupo and Uncle Vincent and they ordered that fifteen or twenty thousand of them be printed. Whatever paper was left was to be used for the two-dollar notes, which were very good and easily disposed of.

"On the night of the 29th, or 30th of March, 1909, Lupo left in company with Uncle Vincent and Cina. Before leaving, however, instructions were given to Bernardo, Giglio and Sylvester to count the notes printed daily so that none could be unaccounted for and sold into circulation. The fear that cheating might be practiced was evidently in Lupo's mind.

"We had been working about a week on the green side of the five-dollar notes when on April 5th, or 6th, Cina came to the stone house and told us to suspend the work and start in on the two-dollar notes, because there was a large demand for them from Boston, Buffalo and Chicago, where customers were anxiously awaiting a new supply. Calichio immediately got the press ready to print another ten thousand of the two-dollar notes.

"It was at this time that I decided not to continue the work and left the press because I was not spoken to but ignored entirely. Even Sylvester and Giglio called me by an obscene name and referred to me in the most distasteful language, horrible to hear because of the profanity. I told Cina I wanted him to write to Cecala and tell him to send me sufficient money for my fare to New York. At this Cina answered in the Sicilian dialect:

"'You are waiting for me to blow your brains out. Now that we are at the point where we can earn some money, you get sassy. Here you are dealing with gentlemen; otherwise, by this time you would be dead. Go ahead and work. No more of this fussing.'

"Then turning to Sylvester and Giglio, Cina continued: '(Piciotti) Boys, watch this Calabrian, and if he don't want to work, shoot him and make a hole for him in the farm.'

"After hearing this I felt like a whipped dog and kept my mouth closed. I went over to the press and started in to work. Calichio came over to me and said:

"'Don Antonio, look out. Don't act this way with these people, because they are all of the (Mala-vita) Mafia and will do you harm in an instant. As long as you are among them you must obey orders, as I do, using prudence.'

"Now it happened that for two weeks Calichio had not received his weekly salary and he became nervous for this reason. One day, when I did not want to print on wet paper, he dressed and went away. I, thinking that he had just gone out, stopped working and waited for him to return. But at night, when Sylvester, Giglio and Bernardo saw that Calichio did not return, they threatened me with death. Sylvester pointed a loaded revolver at me saying that he would dig my eyes out; Giglio, taking an axe in his hand, said he wanted to cut my head off, but Caterina intervened and the threatening stopped. Sylvester left the stone house to carry the news to New York.

"Three days went by without any work being done, then Calichio returned in company with Sylvester and Cina. Cina handed me a note from Cecala which informed me that I must obey Calichio's order or suffer terrible consequences. I worked on against my will under Calichio's orders."

CHAPTER XV
SOME "AFTER-DINNER" CONFESSIONS

"During his imprisonment he came to know a certain Terranova, who was a half-brother of Morello, and they became fast friends. They stole horses in New York and sold them in other cities at reduced prices; or they would bring the horses to friends in the country (Highland) and receive payment. He told of being arrested once when with Morello's son and brother; they had thrown a bomb into a store in Mott Street. They were let go because there were no witnesses to the crime. In concluding his recitation Sylvester said:

"'One night I went with the Morello brothers and other friends into a hall where a Jewish wedding was being celebrated. As we entered the hall we recognized two policemen who had helped us before in our jobs. Our idea was to steal watches. We succeeded in stealing about fifteen watches when a Jew I was robbing got onto me. He grabbed me by the coat and called the police. The policeman knew me and took my part. He pushed the Jew aside and told him to go away. The policeman said he knew me to be a fine young man for more than ten years. The policeman told the Jew he was lying and that if he said any more about the matter he would be put under arrest. The Jew was crest-fallen, but went on dancing all the same. As we came outside, I gave three watches to the policeman, two of silver and one of gold. I disposed of the others in New Jersey. We divided the proceeds equally among us.'

"Then Giglio made the boast that the police had never been able to arrest him. He had been in great danger, though, he said. One night in the winter of 1906 he went to Newburgh to steal a horse and carriage. While running away with the stolen property he was shot at twice. Neither bullet hit him, though, he said. Two months later the same horse and carriage were sold in Poughkeepsie for one hundred dollars.

"Bernardo had nothing to relate except the innocent amusement of having stolen fruit in his native town. The others grinned.

"On April 26th or 27th the second lot of Calichio's two-dollar notes were ready. They totalled fifteen thousand dollars and were wrapped up in rags. Giglio and Sylvester took them to New York.

"Calichio and I then renewed work on the five-dollar notes, which we figured on finishing about the middle of May, when a communication from New York made us stop again on the five-dollar notes, and we started on the third lot of Calichio's two-dollar notes. During the month of May, I, Calichio, Sylvester, Giglio and Bernardo all had a hand in the completion of this third lot of two-dollar notes, which amounted to $10,000; then, too, we finished up by the end of May $14,700 of the five-dollar notes. During this period Calichio received his wages punctually, but he did not let on to me.

"When the work had been completed I called Caterina aside and told her that I was going to New York and would not return to the stone house, as I did not intend to continue at that sort of work. In fact, I dismantled the press, piece by piece, took the genuine five-dollar note that was used for comparison, it being the original from which the plates were made, and said to Giglio:

"'Don Vincenzio, I am going to New York to seek rooms and will see Cecala there; I am going because, counting this last batch, I have printed about $60,000 and have received nothing for my labor.'

"'You deserve to have your head smashed on a rock,' was the cheerful reply. 'If the money is not yet sold, who will you see to get paid?'

"'Cecala.'

"'Cecala is not in New York. If he were, I certainly would bring him this last batch of money. We must wait until my brother-in-law comes.'

"'I don't care whether it is sold or not. I am in a miserable condition and will not remain here.'

"'Do as you like, but look out, though, if you do any harm there will not be a hair left of you.'

"'I want to go about my own business and do not care about others.' Thereupon, I took a suit-case with a few rags that I had left and went on foot to the Highland Railroad station where I changed the five-dollar bill and bought a ticket to New York. Arriving in the city I went directly to my aunt's, who was surprised to see me so poorly clad and in such a miserable condition. I told her that I had had a quarrel with my employer because he had not paid me.

"On June 2nd, while walking about my business, I met Cecala at Bleecker and Carmine Streets. He laughed at me, shook my hand, and inquired why I had not remained at the stone house in Highland and continued the work.

"'I could not continue,' I replied, 'because I was treated too shabbily there by the others. And why should I continue to work when no word had come to us from New York for more than two weeks?'

"'Well, Don Antonio,' said Cecala, 'I will fix all your affairs so that Caterina will remain in New York, for you and Don Peppe must continue the work. The man who made the plates has been working on another set of Canadian notes, not like the first that we printed, but of the same denomination, five dollars.'

"'Write and let Caterina come now,' I said. 'As to my doing more work for you, let's talk about that later.'

"'It is not necessary to write; I will telephone. Come with me.' From a drug store at Carmine and Bleecker Streets Cecala telephoned to Highland, or rather to Cina's house.

"Cina's wife said that her husband had gone with Ignazio (Lupo) to Newburgh and that she would tell him when he returned. Coming out of the drug store Cecala handed me ten dollars, saying:

"'Take this ten dollars and find rooms for yourself. I will provide for the rest later when Caterina comes to-morrow or the next day. Your things will arrive in a few days.' He told me to keep him advised. I could meet him at a barber shop in Carmine Street, he said.

"Not seeing anything of Caterina, on June 4th I wrote a letter to Cina at Highland, and requested him to send my things immediately and to give Caterina the money for her fare to New York.

"Cina received my letter and got the impression from it that I was going to tell the police, and he went right over to the stone house to ship my furniture.

"On the fifth of June, in the evening, Don Peppe (Calichio) came to my aunt's house and there told me that he had run away from the stone house with Caterina because they had threatened to kill him. He said that the threats were made by Sylvester, Giglio and Bernardo. Hearing this I hastened out on the stoop and saw Caterina all trembling. She said: 'I don't know how we escaped—Don Peppe and me.'

"'Why?'

"'Bernardo, Sylvester and Giglio wanted to kill us; and Bernardo had already got hold of a shovel to dig a hole.'

"'And who gave you the money for the fare?'

"'Lupo.'

"'How much did he give you?'

"'He gave ten dollars to Don Peppe in the presence of Cina, Uncle Vincent, and the other men, whom I do not know, and he gave me five dollars.'

"'Well,' I said, 'to-night you will sleep at my brother's home, and do not tell him any stories nor let him understand the circumstances of our trouble. To-morrow I will find a house. Cecala gave me ten dollars the other day.'

"I thanked Calichio for getting Caterina out of the stone house to New York, and then went away leaving Caterina at the home of my brother."

CHAPTER XVI
EVADING THE GANG IN VAIN

"'Will I get what I want there?'

"'Certainly,' Cecala said. 'Just mention my name and all will be well with you there.'

"After arranging with an express company to have my goods taken from the dock to the Thompson Street rooms, I went to the Milone address and asked for Cecala.

"'Who is this Cecala?' inquired a short man of ruddy complexion and stout face.

"'Why, don't you know him?' I asked. 'He gave me this address where I was to come and buy groceries.'

"'Have you inquired in the bank downstairs?'

"'No.'

"'Go and see.'

"I went down to the bank of one De Luca and found a barrel containing groceries addressed to Luigi Cosentino. This I had brought to my rooms in Thompson Street.

"'You must pay sixty cents,' said the banker, 'right away.' And Cecala paid the money for me.

"Going upstairs again Cecala said in the presence of Giglio and Sylvester:

"'Don Antonio, we must continue the work. Not in that place (the stone house), but in another farm that has been rented by Giglio and that is very far from Highland. We will not work any more with the same press because it is not very good as to impression. We must buy a new press, which Calichio is negotiating for now, a new model.'

"'I will not come again,' I replied, 'because I have found work as a compositor and I am to go to work to-morrow.'

"'Don't begin to make trouble. You know all our secrets now and we can't let you go.'

"'But why don't you let Calichio continue the work?'

"'Calichio is no good at the press. You know of what he is capable.'

"'I cannot go,' I repeated.

"'Listen, Don Antonio, I promise you that you will not work much. Print at least the other ten-thousand sheets of paper for two-dollar notes and the work will be completed. Then we will suspend operations for the summer, and will begin again in the Fall.'

"'Mr. Cecala, I will return to print the paper that is left, but you must give me, at the beginning of August, $400 because I want to return to Italy; then I will come back to New York in November. Are you satisfied?'

"'Have no doubts as to that. By the first two weeks of August I will give you $500 and not $400, because by that time I will have sold all the money. But will you return to America?'

"'Yes, because I am going to Italy only to arrange family affairs.'

"Calichio now arrived and said that he had found the party who wanted to sell the press, and he suggested that I go and see the man. At this juncture Giglio interrupted to say that the press, which we had been using, had been broken up and thrown into the woods on the farm that had just been rented in his name for the new location of the plant.

"'But,' put in Calichio, 'is that farm a place that is at all likely to be suspected?'

"'Certainly not,' said Giglio, 'it is far from Highland, about three hours over the road, and is situated on the Hudson River. It is a frame house standing by itself so that in working there will be no noise heard by neighbors. And there is no road where people pass by the house.'

"'You mean,' Cecala interrupted, 'that you can work without fear of being disturbed?'

"'Not even the flies will disturb us.'

"'Good,' said Cecala, turning to me. 'Go and see this Riso (the pressman) and see if he really wants to sell the press.'

"'Why should I go and not some one else?'

"'You are of the trade and know whether there are any defects.'

"'And if he asks me who I am, what shall I answer?'

"'Tell him you are Cosentino and have a shop on One Hundred and Fortieth Street.'

"'Why don't you come with me?'

"'No,' said Cecala, 'I will wait here.'

"'It would be better that you come along. Two heads are better than one.'

"Cecala was persuaded and together we went to the printing shop to look over the presses. Riso, the pressman, said that he wanted to sell the press because he had not enough work to keep it occupied and was short fifty dollars to pay off the mortgage. He explained that in order to sell it he must first get permission from the factory people, who held the mortgage. He bought it about eight months previously.

"A price of $85 was agreed to.

"'But,' queried Riso, 'what do you need the press for?'

"'For a printing shop,' I replied.

"'And have you a shop now?'

"'Yes.'

"'Where?'

"I gave him the One Hundred and Fortieth Street address suggested by Cecala before we entered the printing shop.

"Riso assured me that the press was first class and would turn out fine work.

"On June 10th, the next day, the press was paid for and carted off in a covered wagon. I had taken the press apart without arousing suspicion that it was to be taken on a long journey. The parts were taken off because of the danger of leaving them on the press body while in shipment. On the sides of the closed wagon was the name of Antonio Armato, Bakery. The man who drove it was introduced to me by Giglio as his godfather. Giglio explained that the press was to be carted on godfather's wagon because he had been unable to get an express wagon at the moment.

"In order to keep up the bluff before Riso I said to Giglio:

"'Well, it is just as well. You know where my shop is and can have this man take the press there. I will remain downtown and attend to other matters while you take the press uptown.' Cecala squinted at me admiringly.

"On the 13th of June Cecala informed me that I was to be ready to go to Highland at six o'clock the next morning. I was to go to Cina's house and remain there a day, he said, and then I would be taken to the new farm. He told me that the press had been shipped and taken to the house by Sylvester, who had returned to New York. Cecala also said that he had given Calichio ten dollars with which to pay the fares and that I was to meet Don Peppe (Calichio) at his Jones Street house early the next morning and then board the train in company with him. Money would be forwarded to me as soon as I reached Highland; Cecala had none with him at the present.

"'I hope you will not treat me as you did before,' I said. 'Promise to pay and not pay.'

"'Have no doubt. I will take in $200 to-night from a man in Brooklyn, and will send you ten dollars by Giglio.'

"Cecala said Giglio was in New York then at the house of his (Giglio's) brother-in-law in Jackson Street. This brother-in-law had married one of Cina's sisters, but he knew nothing about the counterfeiting scheme.

"At five o'clock in the morning of June 14th I went to Calichio's house and found him packing a suit-case with inks and plates. One of the sets I remember was the Bank of Montreal design with a baby on the green side, marvelously clear zinc plates. Calichio told me they were to be used for making the new Canadian five-dollar notes.

"'When are they to be printed?' I asked.

"'When we get to the new farm.'

"I told Calichio that I certainly would not print any of them at this season and he suggested that they probably were to be printed in November. He said:

"'They will probably be printed in November, at the beginning of the winter season, for now the waters are troubled. The police is making arrests daily.'

"He placed the plates in the suit-case and together we went to Weehawken Ferry and arrived in Highland at 11 A. M. There found Peppino waiting for us at the station with a carriage. He drove to his brother's house (Cina's). There we found Uncle Vincent and Bernardo, the others having gone to Poughkeepsie on business and left word that they would return by evening. After lunch I played with Cina's children while Calichio, Uncle Vincent, Bernardo and Peppino locked themselves into a room for a conference. About 8 P. M. Salvatore Cina returned from Poughkeepsie with Sylvester and immediately ordered his brother to prepare the horse and carriage and take us to the 'Third' farm."

CHAPTER XVII
CAUGHT AGAIN!

"Calichio and I were to remain in the house and work. Uncle Vincent would watch along the railroad track to see if any strangers came near. About noontime, Uncle Vincent would come in and do the cooking; then Bernardo, armed with revolver and rifle, was to do his turn and guard the farm. He was to be helped in this by Giglio and Sylvester whenever they were about. Cina said that if Calichio or I wanted to have our mail addressed to us we must tell our folks and friends to send it to 20 Duane Street, Poughkeepsie, where Uncle Turi (the well-dressed man referred to before in this story) had opened a grocery store. Cina assured me that news would be brought to us daily from the outside and that a horse and carriage had been brought for the express purpose of going to and from Poughkeepsie and bringing groceries.

"Calichio made the press ready and we began work on the fourth batch of the two-dollar notes. There was no interruption all that day but, on the next morning, June 17th (1909), Calichio declared he wanted to leave for New York because he had had a bad dream during the night and there was news from his family.

"Bernardo accompanied Calichio to the station and I and Uncle Vincent remained alone, walking about the grounds in front of the house.

"About 11 A. M. Uncle Vincent was preparing macaroni for the noonday lunch when two well-dressed men and prosperous appearing, driving a horse and carriage, stopped in front of the house. One man was about fifty, the other about thirty. They tied the horse to a tree and came over to me, addressing me in English.

"'Are you Italian?'

"'Yes,' I replied.

"'Have you rented this farm?'

"'No.'

"'Who is the owner?'

"'A man named Giglio.'

"'Where can I see this Giglio?'

"'In New York. His wife is sick,' replied Uncle Vincent.

"'When does he return?'

"'We don't know.'

"'We had come to buy this farm and would like to look inside. Will you permit us to enter and see?'

"'No,' was Uncle Vincent's instant answer. 'We are not the proprietors and are here to guard the fruit. Return some other day when Giglio is here and he will give you permission.'

"The men assured us that they would get the permission to enter the house and drove away. When they were gone Uncle Vincent with a pale face said to me:

"'Don Antonio, I feel sure these men are detectives. Should they return there will be others with them and they will arrest us. In case we fall like mice in a trap don't say who you know. Otherwise we are all ruined. If they find the press we must insist that we found it in the house, and don't know to whom it belongs. Let us go and burn what was printed yesterday in order to avoid suspicion.'

"'I am not going back,' I answered. 'I am going through the woods to the railroad tracks to the station and then back to New York.'

"'If you go away I will not let any one come near the house. And if those two men return I will kill them.'

"'Do as you like,' I replied. So saying I took my hat and jumper and walked along the railroad tracks for about an hour until I came to the Highland station.

"I was peacefully at home in Thompson Street on June 20th when Cecala, Cina and Sylvester arrived. As soon as Cecala saw me he said:

"'You were very much afraid. You must not be so frightened. The people who came to the farm were men of a good sort and not detectives. But you did well in not letting them enter the house.'

"'Since I am away,' I replied to Cecala, 'do not talk of continuing the work. I will not return. I don't care to fall into a trap alone, and you all out of it.'

"'Better if we remain out. We can help you.'

"'Bother the help. Leave me in peace. I want to attend to my own affairs and be at rest.'

"'No. Now that we have started to print we must finish the paper that is left unprinted.'

"'I will not return to the farm. Make Calichio continue the work.'

"'You must return and complete the work,' said Cina with arrogance.

"After about five minutes of silence Cina again did the talking. He said:

"'Very well, we will not return to that farm but in order to have you content we will draw up a contract and you will appear as Luigi Cosentino, the proprietor of the second farm. Then you may return and continue the work without danger. I will telephone to-night and have the press brought to the stone house. The people nearby the stone house have seen you before, and when I tell them that the place is now yours they will not have any suspicion.'

"'I want to find work here in the city. I have worked for you for seven months and have received only forty dollars in all for it.'

"'Well,' said Cecala, 'but I will give you five hundred dollars as soon as you have finished this last job. Is that satisfactory?'

"'Surely.'

"I figured that if I got the five hundred dollars I could return to Italy and not have any more bother, and so I consented to go back and complete the work. Cecala and Cina went with me to a notary public in Elizabeth Street and a contract or lease of the second farm was drawn up. I appeared and signed as Luigi Cosentino. The person from whom I rented the farm was one whom I had never seen before. He was called Salvatore Galasso. The notary gave a copy of the paper to me and another to Galasso, and Cecala paid the charges.

"On June 24th (1909) I and Calichio began work anew on the second farm, at the stone house, and continued until we had finished $13,500 more of the two-dollar notes. When this amount was printed, Calichio went to New York and left me with Uncle Vincent, Bernardo and Giglio to cut to regular size the two-dollar notes and count them and pack them in bundles of 100 each. This work was done during the month of July.

"On the 28th or the 29th of July Cina arrived and stopped all the work, saying that operations were suspended for the summer. The last lot printed, he said, was to be divided among fifteen of us. Cecala had left about twenty days before, and as no word had been received from him it was supposed that he had been arrested. Turning to me Cina said:

"'You, Don Antonio, divide up the money for fifteen persons, and see what will come to each. Each can sell for himself or exchange them.'

"'I will not take any of them, that is certain,' I replied, 'because I have no friends to whom I can sell them. And what is more, I will risk imprisonment.'

"'That means that you will leave your portion to me, and in time I will sell it for you,' said Cina.

"'I don't want to know whether it is left to you or somebody else. Only, you will bear in mind that together with Cecala you have promised $500 with which I was to go to Italy when this work was completed.'

"'Well, if Cecala returns and brings good money, you will be given what was promised you. In the meantime, dismantle the press and give me the plates, for I must save them. Put them in a box together with the ink that was not used.'

"Without losing any time I took some boards and made a box and put into it the plates for the two-dollar notes, check letter 'C,' plate number 1110; also the five-dollar copper plates, and the second Canadian note plates, which had not been used, and some cans of ink. I nailed a cover over the box, and in the presence of Uncle Vincent, Bernardo, Giglio and Cina, I gave the box to Cina and he said:

"'We hope to open this box in November if things go well.'

"The first Canadian plates—those that had been used together with the first two-dollar note plates, Check letter 'A,' plate number 1111—were wrapped in some rags and buried in a hole on the farm by Bernardo. The hole was about two hundred feet from the house in the woods back of the house. Then all the ink that remained outside was buried in the woods back of the house; so were all the hundred thousand pieces of paper of bad prints and proofs, etc., buried there. The inks, though, were put in a macaroni box before being put into the ground.

"I dismantled the press, taking it into four parts, and packed it up in boards. At six o'clock that evening Peppino Cina came with a truck, pulled by a team of horses, and the press was loaded onto the truck; also the box with the plates put on, and the whole business was covered with hay. Then Uncle Vincent, Bernardo and Giglio were driven off toward Cina's farm by Peppino Cina. Cina and I took another road in a carriage and went to his farm.

"Arriving at Cina's farm at about 11:30 that night we sat down and ate heartily and drank wine. Towards the end of the meal Cina gave Peppino (his brother), Giglio and Bernardo each $800 of the counterfeit money, saying to them:

"'Boys, the work is done. From to-morrow on each can attend to his own business. You can take this money and exchange it yourselves.

"'If we are going to continue, and if we need you, I will advise you, paying you double what you can earn anywhere else.'

"Hearing this I said to Cina:

"'See if you can't give me some money with which I may get to New York to-morrow, without my looking around for Cecala or anybody else; and also keep it in mind that by August 15th I get the $500 so that I can go to Italy. If the money is not given me I will endeavor to get my passage to Italy and return in November.'

"'Have no doubts about the money,' said Cina. 'To-morrow I will give you five dollars. The money that has been promised you will be yours. In fact, I will bring it to your house as soon as we have it ready, as we know your address in New York.'

"Next morning Cina gave me five dollars, and drove me to the Highland station, where I boarded the eight o'clock train for New York.

"After being in the city three days I found employment in a printing shop in Brooklyn and worked there as an honest man, putting away all thoughts of evil and tried to forget what I had been through in Highland for the past nine months.

"On August 12, 1909, I read in an Italian newspaper about the arrest of some persons who passed some of the notes printed by me. Thinking that some one might mention my name, I wrote a letter to Cina, addressed to No. 20 Duane Street, Poughkeepsie, informing him that as I had not seen any one up to the present, and had not got what was promised me, I had decided to leave for Italy on August 15th.

"Then I remained in Brooklyn working, without the gang knowing my whereabouts. My employment for this period was in the printing shop of Matteo Vestuto.

"One Sunday in September I met Calichio on the street. He told me that he was going to my house to get a suit of clothes that had been sent down from the stone house with my furniture.

"'Don Peppe,' said I, 'Caterina is at home and she will give you the suit which was put away. If you see any of the Gentlemen don't say that you saw me, because I have written them that I am in Italy.'

"'I have not seen them any more,' replied Calichio. 'Neither do I want to see them, after what I have been through. Bear in mind, Don Antonio, that I have not yet received all the money that is coming to me, but ——, if they come again to me, I know what to tell them ——.' He went off in a very angry mood.

"On the 16th of November, 1909, I read in an Italian newspaper of the arrest of Giuseppe Morello, Antonio Cecala, Domenico Milone, Luciana Maddi, Giuseppe Boscarini and Leolina Vasi. They were all put under bail of from seven to fifteen thousand dollars. Three days later I read in the newspapers that all these 'gentlemen,' whom I knew, were released on bail, and were at liberty awaiting trial.

"I became frightened, thinking that these fellows might think that I had said something to the police as they knew I was dissatisfied with the treatment they had given me. Losing no time I packed my things and went to live with an American family in Dominick Street."