other." There was no mistaking the implied threat in Galbotto's words before his tone turned casual again. "When did you say you were leaving, kid?"
"Right away. I'll take tomorrow morning's Penn Central headed west."
"Good. Now go on, get out of here."
Ross did as he was told and snaked his way through the people still milling around the streets of Little Italy. That wasn't so bad, he told himself when he was safely in a cab taking him back uptown. He patted the lump in his breast pocket. Not bad at all.
In the storeroom behind Cirillo's Funeral Parlor, Paulie Borelli slid the toothpick he'd been chewing on from one side of his mouth to the other and looked down at his employer. "I don't get it, boss," he said. "Why'd you trust that two-bit hustler?"
Galbotto acknowledged Paulie’s question with a slight nod of his head. "What if he's just dumb lucky enough to be onto something? Those geniuses running the country in Washington are paying through the nose for silver right now. I'd like to see them stuff a few grand in my pocket.
“And think about this. If Ross Sheridan is as big a failure as I think he is, he's still worth a hell of a lot to us. His papa would pay more than any lousy three grand to get his only son back...if it comes to that." Frankie smiled. "Go pack your bags, boys. You're taking a little trip west. It never hurts to watch where the money goes. Don't get too close, though, understand? Don't let Sheridan see you. Keep me posted on the punk’s activities. I’ll let you know what to do when the time is right.
Elizabeth was wide awake at seven thirty Saturday morning. She didn't know why she was so restless, but the urge to escape the stuffy atmosphere of her house was overwhelming. Maybe a walk in the park was just what she needed. And if she promised to buy breakfast later, she figured Ross would go with her. Not wanting to wake the rest of the household, she tiptoed to Ross's door and tapped lightly.
Nothing.
She knocked a little louder. "Ross! Are you in here?" She turned the knob and peeked inside. His bed had been slept in, but Ross wasn’t in it. Where could he be at this hour? she wondered, knowing it was not like her brother to open his eyes before mid-morning.
She stepped into the room and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until she saw the envelope on his pillow. It was addressed to her. "Now what have you done?" she said, while raising the flap and pulling out the message.
Dear Lizzie,
I know you'll understand why I've gone, since there is
as much adventure in your soul as in mine (well, almost
anyway!) I'm off to Colorado, with Dooley.
We're taking the Saturday morning train west. I found a sponsor who's willing to finance the expedition, so you don't have to worry that I've robbed a bank...ha, ha.
Do me a favor and smooth things over with Father. I know
you can do it. My exploits don't sound nearly so wicked
coming from your sweet lips.
Wish me luck, dear Liz. I'll come home a rich man. I wish you were with us.
Love, Ross
He wouldn’t do this! Elizabeth dropped her hand to her side and crumpled the paper into a tight ball. Why didn't he tell me? She had no reason to doubt that Ross had left, but because she felt a need to do something , she flung open the doors to his wardrobe. His suitcase was missing from the top shelf, and several articles of clothing were gone from the rod.
There wasn't time to analyze all her feelings. She was disappointed. She felt left out, discarded. But one emotion stood out above all others. She was angry. Ross was having the adventure they had planned together, well, almost planned, and he hadn't even bothered to tell her he was leaving. Well, he wasn't going to get away with it. An idea formulated in Elizabeth's mind. There was no time to waste.
She sat at Ross's desk and pulled paper and pen from the drawer.
"Right away. I'll take tomorrow morning's Penn Central headed west."
"Good. Now go on, get out of here."
Ross did as he was told and snaked his way through the people still milling around the streets of Little Italy. That wasn't so bad, he told himself when he was safely in a cab taking him back uptown. He patted the lump in his breast pocket. Not bad at all.
In the storeroom behind Cirillo's Funeral Parlor, Paulie Borelli slid the toothpick he'd been chewing on from one side of his mouth to the other and looked down at his employer. "I don't get it, boss," he said. "Why'd you trust that two-bit hustler?"
Galbotto acknowledged Paulie’s question with a slight nod of his head. "What if he's just dumb lucky enough to be onto something? Those geniuses running the country in Washington are paying through the nose for silver right now. I'd like to see them stuff a few grand in my pocket.
“And think about this. If Ross Sheridan is as big a failure as I think he is, he's still worth a hell of a lot to us. His papa would pay more than any lousy three grand to get his only son back...if it comes to that." Frankie smiled. "Go pack your bags, boys. You're taking a little trip west. It never hurts to watch where the money goes. Don't get too close, though, understand? Don't let Sheridan see you. Keep me posted on the punk’s activities. I’ll let you know what to do when the time is right.
Elizabeth was wide awake at seven thirty Saturday morning. She didn't know why she was so restless, but the urge to escape the stuffy atmosphere of her house was overwhelming. Maybe a walk in the park was just what she needed. And if she promised to buy breakfast later, she figured Ross would go with her. Not wanting to wake the rest of the household, she tiptoed to Ross's door and tapped lightly.
Nothing.
She knocked a little louder. "Ross! Are you in here?" She turned the knob and peeked inside. His bed had been slept in, but Ross wasn’t in it. Where could he be at this hour? she wondered, knowing it was not like her brother to open his eyes before mid-morning.
She stepped into the room and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until she saw the envelope on his pillow. It was addressed to her. "Now what have you done?" she said, while raising the flap and pulling out the message.
Dear Lizzie,
I know you'll understand why I've gone, since there is
as much adventure in your soul as in mine (well, almost
anyway!) I'm off to Colorado, with Dooley.
We're taking the Saturday morning train west. I found a sponsor who's willing to finance the expedition, so you don't have to worry that I've robbed a bank...ha, ha.
Do me a favor and smooth things over with Father. I know
you can do it. My exploits don't sound nearly so wicked
coming from your sweet lips.
Wish me luck, dear Liz. I'll come home a rich man. I wish you were with us.
Love, Ross
He wouldn’t do this! Elizabeth dropped her hand to her side and crumpled the paper into a tight ball. Why didn't he tell me? She had no reason to doubt that Ross had left, but because she felt a need to do something , she flung open the doors to his wardrobe. His suitcase was missing from the top shelf, and several articles of clothing were gone from the rod.
There wasn't time to analyze all her feelings. She was disappointed. She felt left out, discarded. But one emotion stood out above all others. She was angry. Ross was having the adventure they had planned together, well, almost planned, and he hadn't even bothered to tell her he was leaving. Well, he wasn't going to get away with it. An idea formulated in Elizabeth's mind. There was no time to waste.
She sat at Ross's desk and pulled paper and pen from the drawer.
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