“Oh, that will never do,” he said. “The kids will see that the wires end
here. I must carry them on several houses farther as a blind and trust
to luck that they don't see the wires 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!”