DON PASQUALE, BLACK-HAND SKIRMISHER
Here is where Comito gets into touch with a skirmisher, if I may use
the word, of the Black-Handers. The skirmisher is the scout for Lupo
and Morello who are, as usual, in the distance, their minds ablaze
with the idea of getting rich beyond the dreams of Aladdin by a bold
counterfeiting stroke. Comito is a printer out of work. Lupo and
Morello have agents who tell them of such things. Comito might be the
man to run a printing press and print the counterfeit bills. And so, I
will turn you over to Comito. Listen to his own story once more:
"On the evening of November 5, 1908, I was at a meeting of the Order
of the Sons of Italy, being a duty I owed the society as Supreme
Deputy to attend the meetings of the different lodges. As was the
custom toward the end of the meeting I chatted with the various
members of the order, some of whom I knew by name and others whom I
knew only by sight.
"That same night a member by the name of Don Pasquale, a Sicilian,
came to me, clasped my hand, and without further ceremony said:
'Professor, will you take a walk with me? I have something to say that
might interest you.'
"When we were outside, Don Pasquale said to me:
"'I know you are seeking work and that you are a good printer. A
friend of mine is proprietor of a printing shop in Philadelphia. If
you wish I can recommend you; but you must go to Philadelphia to
work.'
"'It makes no difference to me where I work,'" was Comito's answer.
Don Pasquale got Comito's address and said that he would arrange to
have his Philadelphia printer friend meet Comito at the latter's home.
Comito then explains that the title "Don" is used by Sicilians as a
mark of respect among the working class, and that the word "Uncle" is
employed in addressing people advanced in years in the same sense.
Comito recalls the knock on his door on the morning of November 6. He
says:
"I opened and saw Don Pasquale with his friend. I motioned them to
enter and sit down. Don Pasquale said: 'Mr. Comito, I present to you
my friend, Don Antonio Cecala, proprietor of a printing shop in
Philadelphia.'
"'Are you a printer?' asked Cecala.
"'Yes,' I answered.
"'Well,' he continued, 'I am the proprietor of a shop in Philadelphia
and in need of a trustworthy man who can take care of my affairs when
I am absent looking out for my business as an inspector of Singer
Sewing Machines. You can come to an agreement with me and establish
yourself with your wife in Philadelphia. In that way I can be sure of
your honesty,' said Cecala to me.
"'But,' I replied, 'I don't think that I am going to your printing
shop to act as boss. You have other men that work there?'
"'Yes, there are other men, but they are not capable for the trade I
have because they do not do this kind of work.'
"And saying this, Cecala showed me some money order blanks, stamped
envelopes, commercial papers and some hand bills. I replied that it
was just such work that I could do, and that if the men employed by
him were not able to do such work they were not printers.
"'Well, as you are a practical man at such work, you may remain alone
in the shop and will assume full responsibility. Therefore, prepare
your things and tell your Mrs. not to continue working. However, if
she wants to work in Philadelphia, then she may do so. Together you
will soon be rich.'"
Cecala agreed to pay the rent due for the rooms occupied by Comito and
his mistress, besides what he owed elsewhere. The weekly salary was
agreed upon, and in the event that Comito should not care to remain at
the job he was to receive his return fare to New York.
The reader will appreciate the humor of this arrangement as he gets
along further in the story.
"'Then you wish that the lady come with me?'
"'Surely. The lady is necessary for you.'
"'But don't you want me to go first and find a house to live in?'
"'There is no need of that. The house is ready. It is my property.'
"'When you say that you will provide for everything, I am ready to
leave to-morrow.'
"In the evening Caterina came home from work. I told her what had
happened. She did not care to leave her work, adding that we were
without means and could not afford to undertake the trip. I assured
her, however, that all expenses would be paid, and she finally
consented to come along. We prepared the household furnishings for
shipment, Cecala insisting that we take all the stuff with us."
Comito then tells of being taken to a photo-material store. Cecala
bought a camera, some plates, bath platters, chemicals, a tripod,
paper, and a case. Comito was induced to go to the printing house,
where he had been formerly employed, and make a "dicker" for the
purchase of a printing press. The press was secured and everything was
made ready for the trip to Philadelphia. Then Cecala called and
introduced a certain "Don Turi," otherwise Cina, as his godfather. "He
is a rich proprietor in Philadelphia," said Cecala. "Do not mind his
ordinary clothes; he is a man of gentle manners." Comito's own
description of the rough looking Cina adds a streak of humor to the
situation. As to "gentle manners" Cina almost maimed Comito when he
shook hands with him. Comito was also introduced to a fellow by the
name of Sylvester.
It was two o'clock in the afternoon on the same day that the whole
pack of them--Cecala, Cina, Don Pasquale and Sylvester--rushed into
the little apartment of Comito, and, as he says, "without any talking,
began to label the furniture." This move was made after Cecala had
paid the rent that morning.
Comito had not put any address on his stuff because Cecala had assured
him that all the furniture would be put on a wagon, and that the wagon
and all would go under his name to Philadelphia. Comito observed a
bundle labeled: "A. Cina, Highland, New York."
Turning to Cecala, he said: "Don't we go to Philadelphia?"
"A--ha, ha, ha--a, ha, a, ha, ha, ha, ha," leered Cecala. "This is the
place the boat stops and then we go twenty minutes by foot. Have no
fear; we will go by carriage."
"Do we not go by rail?"
"No," grunted Cecala. "It costs too much, and we cannot load all your
goods on the train."
Upon inquiring what time Cecala expected to arrive at Philadelphia,
Comito was informed about eight o'clock, and that it would be all the
better to arrive after dark because "no one will see what we are
doing, and we will give an accounting to no one." Cecala also assured
Comito that there would be no delay once they got off the boat, but
that they would hurry to Cecala's house where "we will eat and drink
wine and warm ourselves."
In this manner Comito's fears were lulled to sleep by the promises of
future prosperity that were held out to him. There would never be any
more worry or struggle for gain as far as Comito was concerned,
according to the assurances of Cecala and the others. Life would flow
along like a pleasant dream with no worries of any kind!
"It was about 4:30 P. M. of that same day, November 11, 1908, when I
and Caterina, together with Cecala, Cina, Don Pasquale and Sylvester,
went on board the boat," continues Comito. "I was fully convinced that
we were going to Philadelphia. I was quite happy thinking that by
working honestly I would prosper. When we were about two hours out
from the pier Cecala came to me and said:
"'Mr. Comito, we are about to make a bad showing.'
"'Why?' I asked.
"'Because I have not enough money to pay the fares of all of us.'
"'Why pay for all?'
"'Because they are my friends, and my godfather. Then, too, you saw
how they worked.'
"'But they could have remained in New York.'
"'No. They will help put up the press, etc.'
"'This is just a circumstance,' explained Cecala. 'I imagined that
Cina had money to spare, but he has forgotten his pocketbook. We are
short five dollars.'
"Not knowing what to do about it, I remained silent. After a while
Cecala turned to Caterina and inquired: 'Mrs., have you any money with
you?'
"'I have just five dollars,' Caterina replied innocently.
"'Well, give it to me because I need it. I will give it back
to-morrow, as soon as I get to the house,' suggested the bandit.
"Caterina stepped aside and produced a five-dollar bill from her
stocking where she had hidden it for an emergency.
"I took Caterina aside and asked her why she had given the money to
Cecala. She said it would be all right, that she would get it back
to-morrow. I did not talk any more. I took a rest on a lounge, until
about nine o'clock, when I heard the boat's whistle. It was the signal
of our approaching a dock. I jumped up, thinking I was at
Philadelphia, and woke Caterina. I was surprised when Cecala informed
me that Philadelphia was a little farther on, and that we would get
off at the next stop. Making further inquiries as to the location of
Philadelphia, I was informed in a very brutal manner by Cina that he
did not know when the boat would arrive, but he guessed about one
o'clock. Right then and there it dawned on me that I was not dealing
with honest people, but with a dangerous pack who were probably trying
to get me into a trap.
"When Caterina heard that we would not arrive until one A. M., she
spoke cross to me and said that if any harm came to her I was
responsible. I consoled her as well as I could and resumed my rest on
the lounge.
"It was about half-past twelve that night when a long, resounding toot
that echoed in the mountains announced our arrival at a stopping
place. When the deck hand announced the name of the place, which did
not sound very much like Philadelphia, I asked Cecala whether we
should go ashore here.
"He said yes.
"It was a freezing cold night. There was snow on the ground. Caterina
and I were chilled to the bone and very nervous.
"'We will all stop at my godfather's for the night, and, if necessary,
for a day or so until we are rested,' announced Cecala. 'From there we
will continue our trip to Philadelphia, which is one station beyond
this place. We will do the rest of the journey by wagon.
"'This is Highland,[1] New York,' said Cecala, when I inquired the
name of the place.
"After a short wait in the dark near the dock we heard a wagon rushing
up at top speed. It was driven by a man whom Cecala introduced me to
as another godfather of his who was named Vincenzio Giglio. Cina and
Giglio are brothers-in-law and own the place where I was to stop that
night, Cecala told me.
"We arrived at Cina's house and found a table prepared for dinner.
While Cina invited Caterina and me to sit down, the wives of Cina and
Giglio brought on stuffed chickens, young goats meat, baked potatoes,
wine. The dessert was of cheese, apples and pears, raised, Cina said,
on the premises.
"My furniture was placed in a house near that of Cina and I was left
there to live with Caterina on scanty fare and without money until, as
Cecala told me, the printing shop would be in readiness. I was told to
have my mail directed at the box in Highland, New York, where Cina had
his mail sent. There were five little children playing about in the
Cina house. I heard Cecala tell Cina to make out a list of food-stuffs
needed saying that he would see Ignazio (Lupo) and have him ship it up
to the farm.
"Cecala then took his departure to look after his business as a
'Singer Sewing Machine Inspector.'"
For three days after arriving at Cina's, Comito says, he and Caterina
ate at Cina's table. They were waiting for the supplies to arrive
from Lupo, and which Comito and Caterina were to eat at their own
table. Concerning this time Comito says:
"In the three following days, Caterina and I ate at Cina's table while
we were waiting for supplies. The conversation was about nothing but
homicides, assassinations, and robberies. At times I thought my hair
would stand on end, but I tried my best to appear unconcerned even
when Caterina glanced at me in dismay.
"On a certain cold and rainy day, I shall never forget, while we were
all huddled around the stove, Cina began to spin his yarns and
boasted, among other exploits, that he had been a trusted man of the
notorious bandit Varsalona. In this way Cina had became implicated in
the murder of a school teacher in his native town, Bevona, in the
province of Girgenta, Sicily, and had been obliged to flee the country
and make his way to America. Cina also remarked that he was married in
Tampa, Florida, where he had worked for seven years as a cigar maker.
He married the sister of his intimate friend Giglio.
"As we were about to go to bed that night I told Caterina that we had
better plan to get back to New York somehow. There was no longer any
doubt in my mind but that we were in the hands of confirmed criminals.
"'How about the fare?' answered Caterina. 'I have no money at present.
If you want money ask godfather Cina.'
"I did not sleep a wink that night. I was blaming myself for having
induced Caterina to come along. In the morning I hurried over to talk
to Cecala to make arrangements for our return to New York, but to my
surprise Giglio informed me that Cecala and Don Pasquale had gone the
night before to New York.
"I complained to Giglio of the manner in which Cecala had left me
behind with Caterina without money or return fare to New York.
"With apparent good grace Giglio replied that I should have a little
patience and wait until Cecala returned.
"'Think of eating and drinking. Don't worry. Enjoy yourself,' he said
with a grin.
"The manner of Giglio's talk quieted me a little and calmed my nerves;
he also said that when it was not raining I could go about the farm to
see what was cultivated and could roam around and forget about
returning to New York.
"Caterina and I had to worry along in that godforsaken place until
December 7, 1908, when I was informed that we would be moved to the
printing shop. A wagon was coming for our furniture at three o'clock
in the morning."
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Highland is about seven miles from Ardonia, New York, where the
reader will remember I had discovered Lupo was in hiding after he ran
away from his creditors.