in 1820.  In those early days the second-grade member of the Camorra was known as a picciotto.  To-day the apprentice or “helper” of the Black Hander is termed a picciott’ in the clipped dialect of the South.  But the picciotto of New York is never raised to the grade of Camorrista, since the organization of the Camorra has never been transferred to this country.  Instead he becomes in course of time a sort of bully or bad man on his own hook, a criminal “swell,” who does no manual labor, rarely commits a crime with his own hands, and lives by his brain.  Such a one was Micelli Palliozzi, arrested for the kidnapping of the Scimeca and Sabello children mentioned above—­a dandy who did nothing but swagger around the Italian quarter.

Generally each capo maestra works for himself with his own handful of followers, who may or may not enjoy his confidence, and each gang has its own territory, held sacred by the others.  The leaders all know each other, but never trespass upon the others’ preserves, and rarely attempt to blackmail or terrorize any one but Italians.  They gather around them associates from their own part of Italy, or the sons of men whom they have known at home.  Thus for a long time Costabili was leader of the Calabrian Camorra in New York, and held undisputed sway of the territory south of Houston Street as far as Canal Street and from Broadway to the East River.  On September 15, last, Costabili was caught with a bomb in his hand, and he is now doing a three-year bit up the river.  Sic transit gloria mundi!

The Italian criminal and his American offspring have a sincere contempt for American criminal law.  They are used by experience or tradition to arbitrary police methods and prosecutions unhampered by Anglo-Saxon rules of evidence.  When the Italian crook is actually brought to the bar of justice at home, that he will “go” is generally a foregone conclusion.  There need be no complainant in Italy.  The government is the whole thing there.  But, in America, if the criminal can “reach” the complaining witness or “call him off” he has nothing to worry about.  This he knows he can easily do through the terror of the Camorra.  And thus he knows that the chances he takes are compartively small, including that of conviction if he is ever tried by a jury of his American peers, who are loath to find a man guilty whose language and motives they are unable to understand.  All this the young Camorrist is perfectly aware of and gambles on.

One of the unique phenomena of the Mala Vita in America is the class of Italians who are known as “men of honor.”  These are native Italians who have been convicted of crime in their own country and have either made their escape or served their terms.  Some of these may have been counterfeiters at home.  They come to America either as stokers, sailors, stewards, or stowaways, and, while they can not get passports, it is surprising how lax the authorities are in permitting their escape.  The spirit of