murdered man.

The first thing is to locate the assassin. An Italian detective is sent
into the mine as a laborer. Months may elapse before he gets on familiar
or intimate terms with his fellows. All the time he is listening and
watching. Presently he hears something that indicates that the murderer
is communicating with one of his old friends either directly or through
third parties. It is then generally only a question of time before his
whereabouts are ascertained. Once he is "located" the same method is
followed in securing additional evidence or material in the nature of
a confession or admission tending to establish guilt. Having previously
"roped" the murderer's friends, the detective now proceeds to the more
difficult task of "roping" the murderer himself. Of course, the life
of a detective in a Pennsylvania coal mine would be valueless if his
identity were discovered, and yet the most daring pieces of detective
work are constantly being performed under these and similar conditions.
Where the criminal is not known, the task becomes far more difficult and
at times exceedingly dangerous.

One of my own friends, an Italian gentleman, spent several months in the
different mines of this country, where Italians are largely employed,
investigating conditions and ascertaining for the benefit of his
government the extent to which anarchy was prevalent. It was necessary
for him to secure work as a miner at the lowest wages and to disguise
himself in such a way that it would be impossible for anybody to detect
his true character. Fortunately, the great diversity of Italian dialects
facilitated his efforts and enabled him to pass himself off as
from another part of the country than his comrades. Having made his
preparations he came to New York as an immigrant and joined a party of
newly arrived Italians on their way to the coal mines of West Virginia.
Without following him further, it is enough to say that during his
service in the mines he overheard much that was calculated to interest
exceedingly the authorities at Rome. Had his disguise been penetrated
the quick thrust of a five-inch blade would have ended his career.
He would never have returned to New York. There would only have been
another dead "Dago" miner. The local coroner would have driven up in
his buggy, looked at the body, examined the clean, deep wound in the
abdomen, shrugged his shoulders, and empanelled a hetrogeneous jury who
would have returned a verdi