"At the end of January the Canadian five-dollar notes were completed and cut the size of the genuine. After being counted they amounted to seventeen thousand five hundred and forty dollars. They were put in an empty macaroni box and was nailed up and put away for Cecala, who was to have them exchanged for good money to various people whom he knew.

"On February 1st, 1909, not having received any word from New York, Giglio left and went to Cina's house to inquire the cause of the long silence. Next day Giglio returned, accompanied by Cecala and Cina, and fixed the press to print the two-dollar notes, check letter A, and plate number 1111. Having prepared the press Cecala and I fixed some green ink, but after several attempts to imitate the genuine Cecala decided we could not do it. That night Cecala gave me five dollars and told me that on February 4 I was to go to New York. I was to go to his house and there talk with a party who was capable of preparing the ink. Then admonishing me not to leave until Cina called for me with a carriage, Cecala left with Cina and Giglio.

"On February 4, about eight in the morning, Cina came to the stone house with Bernardo, the former to accompany me to the station and the latter to remain with Uncle Vincent and Caterina. I arrived in New York at noontime and went directly to Cecala's home at No. 92 East Fourth Street, where I found his wife who gave me a piece of paper after making sure of my identity.

"'My husband is waiting at the address written on the piece of paper,' she said. 'Ask for him in the bank on the ground floor.'

"The piece of paper contained this address: '630 East One Hundred and Thirty-Eighth Street.'

"Arriving at One Hundred and Thirty-Eighth Street I found the house I was seeking and asked for Cecala. A well-dressed man told me that Cecala would not return until two o'clock. It was then half after one and the man told me to return in a half hour. In the meantime I walked over toward the L station thinking I might meet Cecala. I returned to the address written on the paper after walking around for about forty minutes without seeing Cecala. I was told to take a seat and the well-dressed man telephoned to Cecala, who arrived in a few minutes and invited me upstairs with him. I went up to a room on the second floor and there met two men.

"Cecala introduced me to one of the men who was tall, wrapped up in a shawl of brown color, of oval face and high forehead. He had dark eyes, an aquiline nose, dark hair, and dark mustache. He appeared to be about forty years old. As he was walking about the room I noticed particularly that this man had one arm outside the shawl and the other hidden beneath the wrap. Could he be hiding a weapon? The other man remained seated in a chair. He was about thirty or thirty-five years old, of medium build with dark curly hair, sallow complexion. His nose was a little flattened, he had a brown mustache, brown eyes, and wore a cap 'A la Sicilian.' Cecala introduced the first man as Mr. Morello and the second as 'Michele, the Calabrian.'

"Morello bade me make myself comfortable. Then he gave me a piercing glance and said slowly:

"'How is it, professor, that you cannot succeed in reaching a color like the green on the two-dollar notes?'

"'I told Mr. Cecala from the beginning that this was not in my line of work,' I replied.

"'How is it that a printer like you don't know how to mix inks?'

"'I am experienced in composing and printing books, not in printing money.'

"'Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!' ejaculated the bandit comprehendingly. 'So, if you do not know how to mix the ink the bills cannot be printed?'

"'Certainly not.'

"'Well, we will find a man who knows how to prepare the inks, and I advise you to do the printing carefully so that the money can be easily exchanged. Save the Canadian notes because they are expensive to exchange. And just now we are without money and cannot incur extra expenses.'

"'I would rather leave this work and return to New York,' I ventured.

"'You are crazy,' yelled Cecala, who was still present. 'Now that we are at it we must complete it. If things go right, we will all be rich; but don't think of betraying us because your life would be lost if you did. You must never tell any one what you are doing at the peril of losing your life. If you get into danger because of the secret we will save you.'

"Morello eyed me sarcastically. He shot a menacing side-glance at me and uttered this warning in a low voice: 'Suppose you are arrested. Well, you must never tell that you know us, because we, remaining on the outside, can help you at the cost of losing our property. I advise you to be faithful to us. Remember, you are dealing with gentlemen.'

"'I understand that,' I said, feigning respect, 'but I am in great danger alone in the woods with the woman, and if I am taken by surprise I am ruined.'

"'How? Are you alone? Where is Uncle Vincent? Is he not there?'

"'Yes.'

"'He alone is enough to keep any one away from the house. Soon there will be other people to help you, and keep you company, and bring arms and ammunition. The first stranger that is suspected will be killed and buried in the woods.'

"Morello spoke this with a saturnine air of unconcern as if he had been discussing a smoke or a glass of wine. To this man murder was merely an incident to his trade.

"The arch-bandit now turned to Cecala, saying:

"'It would be well to ask Milone (Antonio B.), and see if he is able to make the green tint.' Milone is the man who made the plates.

"'Who cares to go to Two Hundred and Thirty-Ninth Street, in the Bronx, at this hour?' replied Cecala in disgusted protest. 'It can be done to-morrow.'

"'No. It is better that we send Nick (Sylvester) to-night,' said Morello with an air of finality that booked no dispute.

"'Do what you think, Piddu.[2] Suppose we arrange to send Don Antonio?'

"'Do not let him leave us, though.'

"'I know, and if he has to leave, I will accompany him,' concluded Cecala almost in a whisper.

"Cecala now invited me out with him, asked me where did I want to sleep, and when I told him at my aunt's, he offered to accompany me there.

"As we were about to leave the place Morello turned to Cecala and I overheard him say:

"'Nino, I wish you would not have the professor come here any more. You know there are detectives following me and as soon as they see a suspicious face they arrest him. The other night, as you know, they arrested father and son while they were going down the stairs.'

"'I know it,' replied Cecala, 'but what are your suspicions about Don Antonio?'

"'Well—er—sometimes you can't tell.'

"The 'Black-Hand' chief dropped into a brief reverie. Maybe he had a vague vision of the fate that was to befall him. The other man present, Michele, the Calabrian, had not uttered a single word during the entire conversation.

"After we had left the house Cecala turned to me and said with bated breath:

"'The man you saw with one hand is Giuseppe Morello, the same who was implicated in the barrel murder.'

"I did not reply because I did not know of Morello; neither did I know of the barrel murder. I only thought that he really had one arm because I did not see the other. From time to time Morello had been snuffing tobacco.

"'I want you to know all my friends so that you can have an idea with whom you are dealing, and don't think they are poor, but all landlords,' now confided Cecala. 'Morello is President of the Corleone Society (Ignatz Florio) and has in his power four buildings amounting to one hundred thousand dollars. The other man you met the last time, Pecoraro, is the proprietor of a large wine deposit, and he has more property. Giglio and Cina are owners of the estates that you saw. I am poor because I did not know how to profit. My profession is that of barber. I had a splendid shop, but the business was poor and I sold it. Two weeks after I sold the barber shop I got in with Morello and opened a grocery store in Mott Street. But after two years I was forced into bankruptcy because all the goods were sold on credit and I was not paid. Then I opened up two gambling houses, one in Mott Street and the other in Elizabeth Street. I was getting along well while I fed the police. When I did not want to give them any more they began to go against me and forced me to close up.'

"At the moment I could not understand why it should have been necessary to 'feed' the police, as he said, not being acquainted with the methods here."