“That means ‘The Black Hand,’ doesn’t it?” queried the boy.

The Italian nodded.

“He sign at the bottom with a Black Hand because the man-a to whom he write, once was member of the Mafia.  The police see the letter, a newspaper print-a big long story about Italian society which have the Black-a Hand for its sign, and saying that much recent murders was done.  Everybody become-a frightened, and the Mafia and the Camorra right away both begin-a to use Black Hand.  So you see when I say there is no Black-a Hand society, no chief, no place-a to meet, no meetings, no plan-a to share money, no oath, it is quite true, but if I say there is a society which used the Black-a Hand that is true, too.  But all I want-a to do is to be let alone.  Now, I will get you your dinner, sair.”

Hamilton felt distinctly uncomfortable in being left alone, not feeling at all sure that the man who had been there before would not suddenly dash in upon him unawares and stab him in the back with a stiletto to make sure of his not talking, nor that the restaurant-keeper might not put some poison in his coffee.  Take it all in all, it was the most nerve-racking meal he had ever eaten.

Chatting with the Inspector that evening over his Black Hand experiences he found that his chief took a very serious view of the question.

“If we were receiving immigrants from the north of Italy,” he said, “it would be an entirely different matter, but all the Italians who are coming in now are from the ‘toe’ and the ‘heel’ of Italy, and from Sicily.  You see, the north of Italy are really Celts, like the French and Irish, being descended from the Lombards, but the Sicilians and Calabrians are a mixture of the old pirates, the Moors, and the degenerated Latin races that were left when the Roman Empire fell to pieces.  The endeavor to break up the Mafia sent all the leaders of that nefarious Sicilian society here, and now the attack upon the Neapolitan Camorra lands another criminal group.  Italy has sent us a larger proportion of criminals than any other country, and under our present laws, if they have been three years here, they cannot be deported.  The Vincenzo Abadasso case was a good example of the folly of that rule.”

“Who was he?” asked Hamilton.

“He was an Italian immigrant who had been arrested twenty-seven times and convicted twenty-five and who came over here a couple of years ago.  Within a few months of his arrival he was arrested here and sentenced to three years’ imprisonment And now, although he is a professed criminal, they won’t be able to deport him, because when his prison term is up, he will have been in the United States three years.”

“I suppose there are a lot of Italians coming over now?” said Hamilton questioningly.

“A little over three weeks ago,” was the reply, “as I heard from a friend in the Immigration Bureau, there was a funeral in a small village near Naples and not enough able-bodied civilians could be found in the place to carry the casket.  All of them were in America.  There are scores of towns in southern Italy where all the work—­of every kind—­is done now by the women, because the men have emigrated.”