ARTHUR.T Stories ----A Case of Circumstantial Evidence ----XI---Page 57

She begged Toni piteously not to go. He was her only surviving son. Vito
was dead. Let him but wait a little while and she would not be there to
stand in his way. Then the priest added his personal assurance that it
would be for the best, and the mother finally gave way. Toni was obliged
to tear himself away by force from the arms of the old woman lying upon
the bed, and her feeble sobs echoed in his ears as he trudged down the
road with the scarf Nicoletta had worked about his neck, and a small
bundle of his tools and most precious possessions on his shoulder. A
couple of miles farther on came another harrowing parting with his
betrothed, and from the top of the next rise beyond he could see
Nicoletta still standing at the crossroads gazing pitifully after him.
Thus many an Italian, for good or ill, has left the place of his birth
for the mysterious land of the Golden West.

The voyage was for Antonio an unalloyed agony of seasickness and

homesickness, and when at last the great vessel steamed slowly up the
North River, her band playing and the emigrants crowding eagerly to her
sides, he had hardly spirit enough left to raise his eyes to the
mountains of huge buildings from whose craters the white smoke rose
slowly and blew away in great wind-torn clouds. Yet he felt some of the
awakening enthusiasm of his comrades, and when once his feet touched
earth again it was not long before he almost forgot his sufferings upon
the ocean in his feverish anxiety to lose no time in beginning to save
the money which should reunite him to Nicoletta and his mother. As soon
as the vessel had docked a blustering Italian came among the emigrants
and tagged a few dozen of them, including Antonio, with large blue
labels, and then led them in a long, straggling line across the
gangplank and marched them through the muddy streets to the railroad
train. Here they huddled in a dirty car filled with smoke and were
whirled with frightful speed for hours through a flat and smiling
country. The noise, the smoke and the unaccustomed motion made Antonio
ill again, and when the train stopped at Lambertville, New Jersey, the
padrone had difficulty in rousing him from the animal-like stupor into
which he had fallen.

The Italians crowded together upon the platform, gazing helplessly at

one another and at the padrone, who was cursing them for a lot of stupid
fools, and bidding them get upon a flat car that stood upon a siding.
Antonio had to be pushed upon it by main force, but the journey this
time was short, and in half an hour he found himself upon an embankment
where hundreds of Italians were laboring with pick and shovel in the
broiling sun. Here he also was given a pick and told to go to work.

Toni soon became accustomed to his new surroundings. Every night he and
the rest were carried to Lambertville on flat cars and in the mornings
were brought back to the embankment. The work was no harder than that to
which he had been used, and he soon became himself again. Moreover, he
found many of his old friends from Culiano working there. In the
evenings they walked through the streets of the town or sat under the
trees playing _mora_ and _tocco_. His letters home were quite
enthusiastic regarding the pleasant character of the life. To be sure he
could not write himself, but his old friend Antonio Strollo, who had
lived at Valva, only a mile from Culiano, acted as his amanuensis. He
was very fond of Strollo, who was a dashing fellow, very merry and quite
the beau of the colony, in his wonderful red socks and neckties of many
colors. Strollo could read and write, and, besides, he knew Antonio's
mother and Nicoletta, and when Toni found himself unable to express his
thoughts Strollo helped him out. When the answers came he read them to
Toni and joined in the latter's pleasure. Toni himself soon became a
favorite in Lambertville, for he was simple and gentle, and full of
good-will for everybody. He was very good-looking, too, with his
handsome Roman profile, snapping black eyes and black curly locks. Yet
he was sad always, especially so as since his arrival in America he had
made no progress toward finding Vito. From time to time he met other
Italians who had been working elsewhere, who thought they had seen him
or some one that looked like him. But inquiry always elicited the fact
that their desire to give him encouragement was greater than the
accuracy of their memories. Of course Antonio Strollo, who had become
Toni's inseparable friend, shared all his eagerness to find Vito. In
fact, Toni had no thought that he did not confide to his friend, and it
was really the latter who composed the love letters to Nicoletta and the
affectionate epistles to the mother.

Every month Toni divided what he earned into three parts. One of them he
deposited in the savings-bank, another he invested in a money order
which was sent by Strollo to Nicoletta for the mother, and the last he
kept for himself. It was astounding how fast one really could make money
if one was industrious. Forty dollars a month, sometimes! That made
nearly seventy _lire_ to send to Nicoletta. His bank account grew
steadily, and he often saved something out of the money he allowed
himself to live upon.

Antonio Strollo, on the other hand, was lazy and spent all his wages on _chianti_, neckties, waistcoats, and gambling. Sometimes he would do nothing for a whole month but loiter around the streets smoking cigars and ogling the village girls. These last were afraid of him and called
him "The Dare Devil."

Toni worked on the embankment for three years, sending his money with a letter to Nicoletta every month. The mother still lived and Nicoletta

was giving up her own life to take care of her, but the old woman was

very feeble and no longer had any hope of seeing either of her sons

again. Moreover, she was now so bedridden that it was useless to think

of trying to move her, even if Toni had plenty of money. No, as soon as

he was satisfied that Vito could not be found and had saved enough money he must return. How she begged him to return! As Strollo read him the
girl's letters Toni wept bitter tears and Strollo wept likewise in
sympathy. But no word came of Vito.

Toni, anxious about his mother, despairing of ever finding his brother,
pining for Nicoletta and with three hundred dollars lying in the
savings-bank, decided to return to Italy. But if only he could find Vito
first! Then Antonio Strollo had an idea. Why not advertise, he
suggested. He wondered that they had never thought of it before. They
would put a notice in _Il Progresso_, the Italian paper in New York, and
see what would come of it. Toni agreed that the idea was good, so
Strollo wrote the notice offering a reward for news of Vito.

Two months passed, once more Toni gave up hope, and then,

O-never-to-be-forgotten day! a letter came from the post-office from

Vito! Toni threw his arms about Strollo and kissed him for joy. Vito was
found at last! The letter, dated Yonkers, New York, told how Vito had by
chance heard of Toni's notice and learned that he was in America. He
himself, he said, had prospered and was a padrone, employing many
workmen on the water-works. He begged Toni for news of their mother. He
confessed himself an ungrateful son never to have written, but he had
married and had had children, and he had assumed that she was being
cared for by his brother. Toni must forgive him and come to him at once.

"O Dio!" cried Toni, the tears in his eyes. "Forgive him? Of course I will forgive him! Come, Antonio, let us write my dear brother a letter without delay and tell him that our mother is still alive. How should I like to see his wife and babies!"

So they prepared a long letter which Strollo took to the post-office
himself and mailed. Toni went back to work with joy in his heart and whistled and sang all day long, and, of course, he wrote all about it to Nicoletta. He was only waiting for his month to be up before starting. Then he would go to Yonkers, make Vito a little visit, and return home to Italy. It would be easy enough, after that, for Vito would send them money, if necessary, to live upon.

Several letters passed between the brothers, and at the end of the month
Toni drew out his money from the bank, received his wages in full, and
prepared to leave Lambertville. Meantime a letter had come from
Nicoletta telling of his mother's joy at learning that Vito was still
alive.