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Updated: June 4, 2025
Nor was he so much disturbed by the knowledge that Narcone, the butcher, was here in New Orleans as by the memories and regrets which the news aroused. Entering his private office, he lit the gas, and flinging himself into an easy-chair, gave himself over to recollections of all that the last four years had brought forth.
"No, this is a little too rough for Bernie. He very cheerfully acknowledged that he was afraid Narcone might recognize me and make trouble." "I thought of that," Donnelly acknowledged. "Is there any chance?" In the depths of Blake's consciousness something cried out fearfully in the affirmative, but he replied: "Hardly. He never saw me except indistinctly, and that was nearly five years ago.
"Yes. He's sailing on the Philadelphia at eleven o'clock no stops between here and New York. They'll be waiting for Narcone at Quarantine." "I'm glad it's time to do something." Donnelly rubbed his palms together and showed his teeth in a smile, "Corte says he'll have him at the Cromwell Line docks without fail, so that will save us grabbing him on the street and holding him until sailing time.
"We'll drift past the Red Wing Club; it's a hang-out of mine and I want to talk further with you," said Donnelly. They turned back towards the heart of the city, stopping a moment while the Chief directed O'Connell to keep a close watch upon Narcone.
His mind was working at such high speed that time seemed to halt and wait. Donnelly was within arm's-length of Narcone before he spoke; then he said, quietly, "Going to leave the city, Sabella?" "Eh?" The Sicilian started, his eyes leaped to the speaker, and the smile died from his heavy features.
Donnelly showed his contempt for such quixotic views by an expressive grunt. "You can take the next one single-handed, if you prefer. Perhaps it may be your friend Cardi." "Perhaps," said Norvin, gravely. "If that should happen, I should feel that I had paid my debt in full." "I'd like a chance to sweat Narcone," growled the Chief, regretfully. "I'd find Cardi, or I'd " He heaved a sigh of relief.
Seeing him frown in thought, she continued, after a moment, "You told me of a great detective agency one which sent that man Corte here to betray Narcone." "Yes, the Pinkertons. I was thinking of them. I believe it can be done. At any rate, leave it to me to try, and if I succeed no one shall know about it, not even our own police.
"I do not know him," said the Sicilian, sullenly. "I am Vito Sabella, an honest man " "You are Gian Narcone, the butcher, of San Sebastiano," said Blake. "You are going back to Sicily to be hanged for the murder of Martel Savigno, Count of Martinello, and his man Ricardo." "Bah!" cried the prisoner, loudly. "I am not this Narcone of which you speak. I do not know him.
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