I must carry them on several houses farther as a blind and
trust to luck that they don't see the wire leading down below."
We were several houses down, still putting up wires when the crowd
came shouting back, sticky with cheap trust-made candy and black with
East Side chocolate. We opened the ginger ale and forced ourselves
to drink it so as to excite no suspicion, then a few minutes later
descended the stairs of the tenement, coming out just above Albano's.
I was wondering how Kennedy was going to get into Albano's again
without exciting suspicion. He solved it neatly.
"Now, Walter, do you think you could stand another dip into that red
ink of Albano's?"
I said I might in the interests of science and justice--not otherwise.
"Well, your face is sufficiently dirty," he commented, "so that with
the overalls you don't look very much as you did the first time you
went in. I don't think they will recognize you. Do I look pretty
good?"
"You look like a coal-heaver out of a job," I said. "I can scarcely
restrain my admiration."
"All right. Then take this little glass bottle. Go into the back room
and order something cheap, in keeping with your looks. Then when you
are all alone break the bottle. It is full of gas drippings. Your nose
will dictate what to do next. Just tell the proprietor you saw the gas
company's wagon on the next block and come up here and tell me."
I entered. There was a sinister-looking man, with a sort of
unscrupulous intelligence, writing at a table.
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