Having made his preparations he
came to New York as an immigrant and joined a party of newly
arrived Italians on their way to the coal mines of West
Virginia. Without following him further, it is enough to say
that during his service in the mines he overheard much that
was calculated to interest exceedingly the authorities at
Rome. Had his disguise been penetrated the quick thrust of a
five-inch blade would have ended his career. He would never
have returned to New York. There would only have been another
dead "Dago" miner. The local coroner would have driven up in
his buggy, looked at the body, examined the clean, deep wound
in the abdomen, shrugged his shoulders, and empanelled a
hetrogeneous jury who would have returned a verdict to the
effect that "deceased came to his death through a stab wound
inflicted by some person to the jury unknown." My friend was
not a professional detective, but the recital of his
experiences was enough to fill me with new respect for those
engaged in the "man hunt" business among the half civilized
miners of the coal regions.
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