Whoever the capo maestra that Rizzi worked for, he was not
only a deep-dyed villain, but a brainy one. The gang hired a
store and pretended to be engaged in the milk business. They
carried the bombs in the steel trays holding the milk bottles
and cans, and, in the costume of peaceful vendors of the
lacteal fluid, they entered the tenements and did their damage
to such as failed to pay them tribute. The manner of his
capture was dramatic. A real milkman for whom Rizzi had
worked in the past was marked out for slaughter. He had been
blown up twice already. While he slept his wife heard some
one moving in the hall. Looking out through a small window,
she saw the ex-employee fumble with something and then turn
out the gas on the landing. Her husband, awakened by her exit
and return, asked sleepily what the matter was.
"I saw Rizzi out in the hall," she answered. "It was funny-he
put out the light!"
In a moment the milkman was out of bed and gazing, with his
wife, into the street.
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