He
says he will. Good. They must be at Prince Street now we'll give
them a few minutes more, not too much, for word will be back to
Albano's like wildfire, and they will get Gennaro after all. Ah,
they are drinking again. What was that, Luigi? The money is all
right, he says? Now, Vincenzo, out with the lights!"
A door banged open across the street, and four huge dark figures
darted out in the direction of Albano's.
With his finger Kennedy pulled down the other switch and shouted:
"Gennaro, this is Kennedy! To the street! Polizia! Polizia!"
A scuffle and a cry of surprise followed. A second voice,
apparently from the bar, shouted, "Out with the lights, out with
the lights!"
Bang! went a pistol, and another.
The dictograph, which had been all sound a moment before, was as
mute as a cigar-box.
"What's the matter?" I asked Kennedy, as he rushed past me.
"They have shot out the lights. My receiving instrument is
destroyed. Come on, Jameson; Vincenzo, stay back, if you don't
want to appear in this."
A short figure rushed by me, faster even than I could go. It was
the faithful, Luigi.
In front of Albano's an exciting fight was going on. Shots were
being fired wildly in the darkness, and heads were popping out of
tenement windows on all sides.
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