keep on charging such high prices—that's all I can say!" declared Chet, as the boys moved away.
"Poof! W'at do I care for da Blacka Hand. No frighten me!" said Rocco bravely, but he gulped when he said it and there was no doubt that the shot had gone home.
It was now after six o'clock, and the boys decided that in the interests of their plan they would have to brook the parental wrath by being late for supper. Frank had assumed that Chief Collig and Detective Smuff would be leaving to catch the train at about ten minutes to seven, so shortly after six-thirty, Phil Cohen, who had remained in the background during the interview with Rocco, walked smartly up to the fruit stand again. The others were viewing the scene from around the corner of a near-by building.
"Banana," said Phil briefly, tossing a nickel on the counter. When he had received the fruit he began to eat it, at the same time chatting with Rocco.
"W'at you t'ink?" snickered the Italian, "some boys come here a while ago and say da Blacka Hand t'ink I charga too much for da fruit."
"Well, you do charge too much, Rocco. Everybody says so."
"I sella da good fruit at da good price."
