“What do you think about this Black Hand business?”

“I think your friend the restaurant-keeper was nearly right, only that it is being used by all sorts of crooks as well, who have no connection with either the Mafia or the Camorra.  Mark you, I think those two secret societies are apt to be much misrepresented, just as the Jesuits were during the Middle Ages and the Freemasons were at other periods.  The Camorra was once simply the Tammany Hall of Naples.  But when, as happened last year, there were six hundred and fourteen Black Hand outrages in two States in four months it is idle to say that it does not exist in America.  The Camorrist trials over the Cuocolo murders at Viterbo, perhaps the most sensational in the world since the Dreyfus case, have shown its power to be more dangerous than any one could for a moment have imagined.  And the danger lies here—­there are more Camorrists in New York than in Naples!”

For a moment the boy looked at the Inspector, astounded.

“You mean—­” he began, and stopped.

“I mean that the worst elements of the two worst societies in Europe are concentrating in New York, and that unless rigorous measures are taken to keep them down, America will harbor graver dangers than any it has yet known.  Russian nihilism, Polish anarchism, German socialism may join hands with the Sicilian Mafia and the Neapolitan Camorra to institute a criminal organization such as the world has never seen before.  There are enough ignorant immigrants to yield to a wave of fear, and the Black Hand thrives and grows on terror.  But, wisely held in check until they learn, these very Sicilians and Neapolitans bring much that is of value to the making of an American people.”

“Oh, there couldn’t be any real danger!” Hamilton exclaimed.  “The spirit of American institutions would prevent such a happening; that could only be in some old-world city like Naples.  The Camorra comes down from the Middle Ages, anyway.”

The Inspector shook his head.

“I hope so,” he said, “and I only trust you may be right,” and he turned the subject to the actual work in hand.

It so chanced that the very next day Hamilton had an opportunity of seeing, in a mild way, how truly the Inspector had spoken with regard to the alienizing of the crowds in the streets of New York.  He had been working steadily several hours, and early in the afternoon he noticed a great deal of shouting in the streets.  Being curious, and noticing that numbers of women were hurrying past, gesticulating violently, Hamilton followed, until almost before he was aware, the crowd grew so dense as to engulf him, and he was carried along, whether he would or no, up the street.  Some of the women were crying, some shrieking, and all wore a furtive, strained expression as though in great distress.

Although there was a great deal of shouting, not a word was in a language familiar to Hamilton, and although he questioned every one around him he could find no one that understood his questions.  All that he could gather was from some one in the front of the crowd who kept on crying out in English at irregular intervals: