Chapter 12 - Page 2

"Well," Dan exclaimed, when they had exhausted their conjectures, "they've set their date and I reckon they won't change it, so I'm going to eat dinner to-night at the Red Wing Club as usual, just to see what happens."

After a brief hesitation Norvin said, "I'd like to join you, if you don't mind."

Donnelly shook his gray head doubtfully. "I don't think you'd better. This may be on the square."

"I think it is, and therefore I intend to see you through."

"Suit yourself, of course. I'd like to have you go along, but I don't want to get you into any fuss."

Seven o'clock that evening found the two friends dining at the little cafe in the foreign quarter, but they were seated at one of the corner tables and their backs were toward the wall.

"I've had my reasons for eating here, and it wasn't altogether the coffee, either," the elder man confessed.

"I suspected as much," Norvin told him. "At least I couldn't detect anything remarkable about this Rio."

"You see, it's a favorite hang-out of the better Italian class, and I've been working it carefully for a year."

"What have you discovered?"

"Not much, and yet a great deal. I've made friends, for one thing, and that's considerable. Here comes one now. You know him, don't you?" Dan indicated a thick-necked, squarely built Italian who had entered at the moment. "That's Caesar Maruffi."

Norvin regarded the new-comer with interest, for Maruffi stood for what is best among his Americanized countrymen. Moreover, if rumor spoke true, he was one of the richest and most influential foreigners in the city. In answer to the Chief's invitation he approached and seated himself at the table, accepting his introduction to Blake with a smile and a gracious word.

"Ah! It is my first opportunity to thank you for the service you have done us in arresting that hateful brigand," he began.

"Did you know the fellow?" Norvin queried.

"Very well indeed."

"Maruffi knows a whole lot, if he'd only open up. He's a Mafioso himself--eh, Caesar?" The Chief laughed.

"No, no!" the other exclaimed, casting a cautious glance over his shoulder. "I tell you everything I learn. But as for this Sabella--I thought him a trifle sullen, perhaps, but an honest fellow."

"You don't really think there has been any mistake?"

"Eh? How could that be possible? Did not Signore Blake remember him?" Norvin was about to disclaim his part in the affair, but the speaker ran on:

"I fear you must regard all us Italians as Mafiosi, Signore Blake, but it is not so. No! We are honest people, but we are terrorized by a few bad men. We do not know them,