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 Ritz reception. Yet he was chief of the Lovo gang's gunmen and personally was the most dar­ing and resourceful gunman Tony had ever encoun­tered.

"Sit down, Mike," said Tony. "I've got a little job for you."

Mike obeyed, carefully easing his pants over his knees so as not to spoil their razor-like creases. Then he lighted an imported, cork-tipped cigarette with an ornate silver and mother-of-pearl lighter, and looked up expectantly.

"Do you know any of the men in the North Side mob?" demanded Tony.

"A few—by sight," answered Rinaldo, cautiously; his eyes narrowed with suspicion at the unusual question.

"I want one of 'em. And you're to get him for me."

"I don't think I quite get you, chief."

"I want one of Schemer Bruno's men—the higher up in the gang he is, the better I'll like it—brought here to me. I don't care how you do it just so he's alive when you get him here. I want to find out some details about how that mob op­erates."

"But, good God, chief, none of them would talk."