he stranger carefully as he spoke, "that
gentleman left a paper behind him. Ask him."

The proprietor, looking much puzzled, put a question in Italian, to
which was evidently returned a sharp denial.

Still watching him, Hamilton slowly reached out his hand for the paper
which lay on the table, only half-hidden by the book, and turning it
over laid it flat upon the white cloth.

It was the Black Hand.

[Illustration: FESTA IN THE ITALIAN QUARTER. Boys in Little Italy, New
York, preparing for one of the many characteristic holidays. (_Brown
Bros._)]

CHAPTER X

RIOTS AROUND A CITY SCHOOL

There was a moment's utter silence. The bright little restaurant had
suddenly become charged with mystery, the slinking stranger seemed to
have become in a moment allied to secret powers of evil, and the whole
atmosphere seemed baneful in the sinister significance of that drawing
on the table. A glance at the restaurant-keeper dispelled all question
of complicity. His jaw had fallen, his face was ashen, his lips bluish.

The other saw his advantage in the terror the mere display had excited,
and stepping forward, he reached out his hand to pick up the paper,
saying in English:

"Mine!"

Before the Italian had time to grasp the sketch, Hamilton quietly took
it and folded it in half.

"I wouldn't be so ready to claim it, if I were you," he said, knowing
that the other might not understand the words but could tell the tone.

"What are you going to do?" queried the restaurant-keeper in a hoarse
whisper. "They will kill-a me!"

Hamilton thought hard for a moment or two. In the first place the matter
had nothing to do with the Census Bureau, and the boy felt that while he
was on duty in that work and wearing the census badge he was not a
private citizen. Again, it was not a crime to draw a hand on a piece of
paper, and the space obviously left for the blackmail message had not
been filled in, and thirdly he could not swear that he saw him draw the
hand; he only saw the paper in the man's possession.

"Tell him," he said to the restaurant-keeper, "that I shall say nothing
about it, that I am not a policeman, nor a spy; tell him that so far as
I am concerned I do not know that he had anything to do with it, and
return him the paper."

And bending forward, he reached out the paper to the Italian, who first
snatched it eagerly, and then, having secured it, made a ceremonious
bow. The proprietor of the restaurant transl