"Go on!" directed the latter.
So the other, with beads of sweat on his brow, continued until
he reached the two thousand-dollar mark. Here the bills
seemed exhausted. The importer by this time began to feel a
certain reticence about his part in the matter--there might be
some widows and orphans somewhere. The bad man looked
inquiringly at him, and the importer mumbled something to the
effect that he "would let it go at that." But the bad man
misunderstood what his client had said and ordered the
bankrupt to proceed. So he did proceed to pull out another
thousand dollars from an inside pocket and add it to the pile
on the barrel-head.
The Camorrist nodded, picked up the money, recounted it, and
removed three hundred dollars, handing the rest to the
importer.
"I have deducted the camorra," said he.
The bravos formed a line along the cellar to the door, and, as
the importer passed on his way out, each removed his hat and
wished him a buona sera. That importer certainly will never
contribute toward a society for the purpose of eradicating the
"Black Hand" from the city of New York.
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