CAUGHT AGAIN!
"About two o'clock in the morning we arrived, Calichio, Bernardo,
Sylvester, Peppino and Cina, at the 'Third' farm. Peppino returned
immediately from the 'Third' farm to Cina's house. The four of us who
remained slept on straw, there being no mattresses. About three
o'clock the next afternoon Cina brought us some mattresses, pillows
and covers; some food-stuffs and ten quarts of wine. Cina remarked
that this was a splendid place, and that no one could disturb us
there. He gave the following orders:
"Calichio and I were to remain in the house and work. Uncle Vincent
would watch along the railroad track to see if any strangers came
near. About noontime, Uncle Vincent would come in and do the cooking;
then Bernardo, armed with revolver and rifle, was to do his turn and
guard the farm. He was to be helped in this by Giglio and Sylvester
whenever they were about. Cina said that if Calichio or I wanted to
have our mail addressed to us we must tell our folks and friends to
send it to 20 Duane Street, Poughkeepsie, where Uncle Turi (the
well-dressed man referred to before in this story) had opened a
grocery store. Cina assured me that news would be brought to us daily
from the outside and that a horse and carriage had been brought for
the express purpose of going to and from Poughkeepsie and bringing
groceries.
"Calichio made the press ready and we began work on the fourth batch
of the two-dollar notes. There was no interruption all that day but,
on the next morning, June 17th (1909), Calichio declared he wanted to
leave for New York because he had had a bad dream during the night and
there was news from his family.
"Bernardo accompanied Calichio to the station and I and Uncle Vincent
remained alone, walking about the grounds in front of the house.
"About 11 A. M. Uncle Vincent was preparing macaroni for the noonday
lunch when two well-dressed men and prosperous appearing, driving a
horse and carriage, stopped in front of the house. One man was about
fifty, the other about thirty. They tied the horse to a tree and came
over to me, addressing me in English.
"'Are you Italian?'
"'Yes,' I replied.
"'Have you rented this farm?'
"'No.'
"'Who is the owner?'
"'A man named Giglio.'
"'Where can I see this Giglio?'
"'In New York. His wife is sick,' replied Uncle Vincent.
"'When does he return?'
"'We don't know.'
"'We had come to buy this farm and would like to look inside. Will you
permit us to enter and see?'
"'No,' was Uncle Vincent's instant answer. 'We are not the proprietors
and are here to guard the fruit. Return some other day when Giglio is
here and he will give you permission.'
"The men assured us that they would get the permission to enter the
house and drove away. When they were gone Uncle Vincent with a pale
face said to me:
"'Don Antonio, I feel sure these men are detectives. Should they
return there will be others with them and they will arrest us. In case
we fall like mice in a trap don't say who you know. Otherwise we are
all ruined. If they find the press we must insist that we found it in
the house, and don't know to whom it belongs. Let us go and burn what
was printed yesterday in order to avoid suspicion.'
"'I am not going back,' I answered. 'I am going through the woods to
the railroad tracks to the station and then back to New York.'
"'If you go away I will not let any one come near the house. And if
those two men return I will kill them.'
"'Do as you like,' I replied. So saying I took my hat and jumper and
walked along the railroad tracks for about an hour until I came to the
Highland station.
"I was peacefully at home in Thompson Street on June 20th when Cecala,
Cina and Sylvester arrived. As soon as Cecala saw me he said:
"'You were very much afraid. You must not be so frightened. The people
who came to the farm were men of a good sort and not detectives. But
you did well in not letting them enter the house.'
"'Since I am away,' I replied to Cecala, 'do not talk of continuing
the work. I will not return. I don't care to fall into a trap alone,
and you all out of it.'
"'Better if we remain out. We can help you.'
"'Bother the help. Leave me in peace. I want to attend to my own
affairs and be at rest.'
"'No. Now that we have started to print we must finish the paper that
is left unprinted.'
"'I will not return to the farm. Make Calichio continue the work.'
"'_You must return and complete the work_,' said Cina with arrogance.
"After about five minutes of silence Cina again did the talking. He
said:
"'Very well, we will not return to that farm but in order to have you
content we will draw up a contract and you will appear as Luigi
Cosentino, the proprietor of the second farm. Then you may return and
continue the work without danger. I will telephone to-night and have
the press brought to the stone house. The people nearby the stone
house have seen you before, and when I tell them that the place is
now yours they will not have any suspicion.'
"'I want to find work here in the city. I have worked for you for
seven months and have received only forty dollars in all for it.'
"'Well,' said Cecala, 'but I will give you five hundred dollars as
soon as you have finished this last job. Is that satisfactory?'
"'Surely.'
"I figured that if I got the five hundred dollars I could return to
Italy and not have any more bother, and so I consented to go back and
complete the work. Cecala and Cina went with me to a notary public in
Elizabeth Street and a contract or lease of the second farm was drawn
up. I appeared and signed as Luigi Cosentino. The person from whom I
rented the farm was one whom I had never seen before. He was called
Salvatore Galasso. The notary gave a copy of the paper to me and
another to Galasso, and Cecala paid the charges.
"On June 24th (1909) I and Calichio began work anew on the second
farm, at the stone house, and continued until we had finished $13,500
more of the two-dollar notes. When this amount was printed, Calichio
went to New York and left me with Uncle Vincent, Bernardo and Giglio
to cut to regular size the two-dollar notes and count them and pack
them in bundles of 100 each. This work was done during the month of
July.
"On the 28th or the 29th of July Cina arrived and stopped all the
work, saying that operations were suspended for the summer. The last
lot printed, he said, was to be divided among fifteen of us. Cecala
had left about twenty days before, and as no word had been received
from him it was supposed that he had been arrested. Turning to me Cina
said:
"'You, Don Antonio, divide up the money for fifteen persons, and see
what will come to each. Each can sell for himself or exchange them.'
"'I will not take any of them, that is certain,' I replied, 'because I
have no friends to whom I can sell them. And what is more, I will risk
imprisonment.'
"'That means that you will leave your portion to me, and in time I
will sell it for you,' said Cina.
"'I don't want to know whether it is left to you or somebody else.
Only, you will bear in mind that together with Cecala you have
promised $500 with which I was to go to Italy when this work was
completed.'
"'Well, if Cecala returns and brings good money, you will be given
what was promised you. In the meantime, dismantle the press and give
me the plates, for I must save them. Put them in a box together with
the ink that was not used.'
"Without losing any time I took some boards and made a box and put
into it the plates for the two-dollar notes, check letter 'C,' plate
number 1110; also the five-dollar copper plates, and the second
Canadian note plates, which had not been used, and some cans of ink. I
nailed a cover over the box, and in the presence of Uncle Vincent,
Bernardo, Giglio and Cina, I gave the box to Cina and he said:
"'We hope to open this box in November if things go well.'
"The first Canadian plates--those that had been used together with the
first two-dollar note plates, Check letter 'A,' plate number
1111--were wrapped in some rags and buried in a hole on the farm by
Bernardo. The hole was about two hundred feet from the house in the
woods back of the house. Then all the ink that remained outside was
buried in the woods back of the house; so were all the hundred
thousand pieces of paper of bad prints and proofs, etc., buried there.
The inks, though, were put in a macaroni box before being put into the
ground.
"I dismantled the press, taking it into four parts, and packed it up
in boards. At six o'clock that evening Peppino Cina came with a truck,
pulled by a team of horses, and the press was loaded onto the truck;
also the box with the plates put on, and the whole business was
covered with hay. Then Uncle Vincent, Bernardo and Giglio were driven
off toward Cina's farm by Peppino Cina. Cina and I took another road
in a carriage and went to his farm.
"Arriving at Cina's farm at about 11:30 that night we sat down and ate
heartily and drank wine. Towards the end of the meal Cina gave Peppino
(his brother), Giglio and Bernardo each $800 of the counterfeit money,
saying to them:
"'Boys, the work is done. From to-morrow on each can attend to his own
business. You can take this money and exchange it yourselves.
"'If we are going to continue, and if we need you, I will advise you,
paying you double what you can earn anywhere else.'
"Hearing this I said to Cina:
"'See if you can't give me some money with which I may get to New York
to-morrow, without my looking around for Cecala or anybody else; and
also keep it in mind that by August 15th I get the $500 so that I can
go to Italy. If the money is not given me I will endeavor to get my
passage to Italy and return in November.'
"'Have no doubts about the money,' said Cina. 'To-morrow I will give
you five dollars. The money that has been promised you will be yours.
In fact, I will bring it to your house as soon as we have it ready, as
we know your address in New York.'
"Next morning Cina gave me five dollars, and drove me to the Highland
station, where I boarded the eight o'clock train for New York.
"After being in the city three days I found employment in a printing
shop in Brooklyn and worked there as an honest man, putting away all
thoughts of evil and tried to forget what I had been through in
Highland for the past nine months.
"On August 12, 1909, I read in an Italian newspaper about the arrest
of some persons who passed some of the notes printed by me. Thinking
that some one might mention my name, I wrote a letter to Cina,
addressed to No. 20 Duane Street, Poughkeepsie, informing him that as
I had not seen any one up to the present, and had not got what was
promised me, I had decided to leave for Italy on August 15th.
"Then I remained in Brooklyn working, without the gang knowing my
whereabouts. My employment for this period was in the printing shop of
Matteo Vestuto.
"One Sunday in September I met Calichio on the street. He told me that
he was going to my house to get a suit of clothes that had been sent
down from the stone house with my furniture.
"'Don Peppe,' said I, 'Caterina is at home and she will give you the
suit which was put away. If you see any of the _Gentlemen_ don't say
that you saw me, because I have written them that I am in Italy.'
"'I have not seen them any more,' replied Calichio. 'Neither do I want
to see them, after what I have been through. Bear in mind, Don
Antonio, that I have not yet received all the money that is coming to
me, but ----, if they come again to me, I know what to tell them
----.' He went off in a very angry mood.
"On the 16th of November, 1909, I read in an Italian newspaper of the
arrest of Giuseppe Morello, Antonio Cecala, Domenico Milone, Luciana
Maddi, Giuseppe Boscarini and Leolina Vasi. They were all put under
bail of from seven to fifteen thousand dollars. Three days later I
read in the newspapers that all these 'gentlemen,' whom I knew, were
released on bail, and were at liberty awaiting trial.
"I became frightened, thinking that these fellows might think that I
had said something to the police as they knew I was dissatisfied with
the treatment they had given me. Losing no time I packed my things and
went to live with an American family in Dominick Street."