Part 23 (1/2)
It may be pertinent to remark that Jack Sh.o.r.e had obtained most of his dago dialect from a close study of this very man. The similarity of speech and voice, therefore, was accountable for Sam's mistake of identification.
A moment later, among a pa.s.sing throng, Sam stopped and pretended to pick up a small copper-colored medal appended to a bit of soiled ribbon. He halted and ostentatiously displayed it, turning it over and over in his hands while examining it. It attracted the attention of an Italian nearby, who at once claimed the medal.
”If it is yours, no doubt you can describe certain marks which appear on its surface?”
”I don-a have to. Eets a Garibaldi! Giv-a da me!”
”What else?” Sam pressed for more definite information, for he immediately became convinced that this claimant was not the real owner.
The word Garibaldi attracted a second Italian, a short, fat man, with huge, flat face, who was at once apprised of the find. He asked Sam to let him have it for examination.
Sam refused to let it pa.s.s from his hands, explaining that this man had claimed it, but seemingly was unable to identify it. ”I will deliver it to the officer,” and he beckoned a policeman to approach.
There followed instantly a lively colloquy between the two Italians, the second one declaring it belonged to Giuseppe--for he had seen him with it, and he turned to Sam.
”That man,” indicating the fruit vendor, on express wagon license number 346, ”is own it. I'm sure he will it tell-a you so,” and he shouted, ”Giuseppe!”
Giuseppe heard and shouted back, ”Ta-rah-rah!”
As they moved toward him the short man continued to address Sam. ”His fadder was wit Garibaldi at Palestrino.”
”Giuseppe, have you lost your fadder's medal?”
Giuseppe had stepped from his wagon to the curb. With a surprised look he instantly replied, ”No! Eesa len eem to deeza fren.”
”When you len eem?” the short, fat man asked.
”Eesa bout five-six day. Why for youse-a ax deeze-a question?”
There was no mistaking the fact that Giuseppe's frank response conveyed the truth.
Sam believed him.
The short man again spoke. ”This man pick eem up there. It belong to you. Ask eem for it.”
”Geeve it-a da me, boss.”
”This man has claimed it as his. Yet he cannot identify it,” replied Sam. ”Now, to prove it is yours, tell me its size, and the letters on its two sides.”
”Eesa bout as big as-a deeze.” And Giuseppe produced an American quarter dollar. ”Look-a da close. Eesa one-a da side 'Emanual Rex.'
Below eet a Garibaldi. In-a da middle eesa solidar holding a flag.”
”So far, good!” exclaimed Sam, eyeing the man searchingly and committing to memory his every lineament.
Giuseppe continued, ”Eesa da odder side, 'Palestrino, MDCCCXLIX.' In a da middle, 'Liber.'”
”Correct!” said Sam.
”What color is the bit of ribbon?” asked the policeman.
”Eesa be da red. A leetle-a da faded,” was the answer.