With suppressed excitement, at least on my part, we walked over
to Vincenzo's. At night this section of the city was indeed a black
enigma. The lights in the shops where olive oil, fruit, and other
things were sold, were winking out one by one; here and there strains
of music floated out of wine-shops, and little groups lingered on
corners conversing in animated sentences. We passed Albano's on the
other side of the street, being careful not to look at it too closely,
for several men were hanging idly about--pickets, apparently, with
some secret code that would instantly have spread far and wide the
news of any alarming action.
At the corner we crossed and looked in Vincenzo's window a moment,
casting a furtive glance across the street at the dark empty store
where the police must be hiding. Then we went in and casually
sauntered back of the partition. Luigi was there already. There were
several customers still in the store, however, and therefore we had
to sit in silence while Vincenzo quickly finished a prescription and
waited on the last one.
At last the doors were locked and the lights lowered, all except those
in the windows which were to serve as signals.
"Ten minutes to twelve," said Kennedy, placing the oblong box on the
table. "Gennaro will be going in soon. Let us try this machine now and
see if it works. If the wires have been cut since we put them up this
morning Gennaro will have to take his chances alone."
Kennedy reached over and with a light movement of his forefinger
touched a switch.
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