I defy even the police news
reporter on the _Star_ to find any glamour in that."
Our next stop was at the corner at the little store kept by the cousin
of Luigi, who conducted us back of the partition where prescriptions
were compounded, and found us chairs.
A hurried explanation from Luigi brought a cloud to the open face of
the druggist, as if he hesitated to lay himself and his little fortune
open to the blackmailers. Kennedy saw it and interrupted.
"All that I wish to do," he said, "is to put in a little instrument
here and use it to-night for a few minutes. Indeed, there will be no
risk to you, Vincenzo. Secrecy is what I desire, and no one will ever
know about it."
Vincenzo was at length convinced, and Craig opened his suit-case.
There was little in it except several coils of insulated wire, some
tools, a couple of packages wrapped up, and a couple of pairs of
overalls. In a moment Kennedy had donned overalls and was smearing
dirt and grease over his face and hands. Under his direction I did the
same.
Taking the bag of tools, the wire, and one of the small packages, we
went out on the street and then up through the dark and ill-ventilated
hall of the tenement. Half-way up a woman stopped us suspiciously.
"Telephone company," said Craig curtly. "Here's permission from the
owner of the house to string wires across the roof."
He pulled an old letter out of his pocket, but as it was too dark to
read even if the woman had cared to do so, we went on up as he had
expected, unmolested.
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