ever been produced on this continent in time of peace. And the newspapers began to howl about the rights of citizens, the danger to the lives and property of innocent bystanders.
"Damn ’em!" growled Tony to Jane one night. "Don't they know that we don't hurt nobody but ‘hoods’? Neither me nor any of my men ever hit anybody except the mugg we was after. And I never heard of any other mob that did. And we never throw a pineapple unless we know what's goin' on inside the place. If decent citizens own some of the property, let 'em keep the racketeers out; you can't tell me that a man don't know what's goin' on in a building he owns. If he wants to take the chance to get a bigger rent, he's no better than the hoodlums he rents to and he's got to take the chance of the place being blown up."
But the next morning Tony received a telephone call from the District Attorney.
"Camonte?" demanded the familiar overbearing voice. "I want to see you this afternoon. Suite F, in the Sherman Hotel. Two o'clock sharp."
"Why not at the office?" objected Tony. "What's up, anyhow?"
"Never mind. Be there, that's all." And the D.A, hung up.
