Carmella Commands
oning. Slowly she walked back to the kitchen, where the family was sitting.
Presently she heard Giuseppe, in the hall, chatting in a slang which she herself hardly followed. She heard him exclaim:
“Zat so!—Gee whiz!—Sure I do!—What for? Bootleggin’ for Mike, I bet.—Bailed yet?—Zat so?—Too cocky anyways!—Darn glad of it!—Sure he was! —Been helping Mike since before last Christmas.—Zat so!—Uh-huh!-—Well, s’long, Pete! Serves him right.—See y’at school tomorrow.”
The boy swaggered back into the kitchen, grinning.
“Well, what do you know about that?” he asked.
“What about what?” demanded Carmella. “What about Nicolo?”
“Pinched!” said her brother impressively.
“Yes-yes! I heard that. But when? What for? What for?”
Joe would have delayed answering, if he dared, to tantalize his sister. But his parents were listening too. So he swung his speech to Italian and went on:
“Pete didn’t know what for. Nicolo’s arrested. You ought to know what for; you know him best. They prob’ly caught him with a case of hooch or something. Do him good!”
Carmella walked quickly toward her brother and slapped his face with all the violence of recent emotions.
“Carmella Coletta!” cried her mother.
[213]
