◆ SpookStack

We now come to the last days of Jehnny Torrico, the Big Boy who wasn’t quite big enough. His song and dance are just about over, and we shall see him presently as he bounces out of his own show, leaving the spotlight entirely to Al Capone who is plenty big, and growing bigger. After paying his respects to the memory of Dion O’Banion by slinking after midnight into the North Side funeral parlor where the body lay awaiting burial on the morrow, Johnny returned to his bungalow on the South Side with a feeling of uneasiness as to the success of his Plans for bringing peace and quiet to gun-shot Gangland. The grieving survivors who had sat around the room in which O’Banion’s coffin stood heavily banked with flowers seemed deliberately to ignore him as he had stepped fur- tively into the room. Maybe they resented the fact that Casey and another body guard of swarthy-complexion were with him, At any rate Johnny, awkward and un- comfortable, had mumbled some asininity to the effect that it was tough that “Deany” had te go, and then had bowed out. Johnny knew his visit had been a complete flop. He had kidded no one, not even the pompous politicians whom he had met there and who had seemed as uncomfort- able as he, although for entirely different reasons, His own floral offering, a modest wreath which read simply “From Johnny” had been booted out into the alley, and Al Capone’s gaudy tribute too had been kicked to pieces. The spies had rushed to him with this information. Not a single word had been exchanged between him and those chief mourners. But there had been a reply, louder than words. It glittered from the eyes of “Little Hymie” Weiss, and Lovie Al- terie and “Bugs” Moran, and Vincent Drucci, and Leo Mongoven, and Frankie Foster and all the rest of that surly mob. What it said to Torrio’s presence at O’Banion’s wake was this: OH, YEAH? The ancient cynicism that every man has his price had been cherished and worked for all it was worth by Johnny Torrio during his long and successful career as an underworld leader. But keen as was his understanding of human nature, until right now he had never understood so poignantly that alliances formed by Dion O'Banion had heen built on something stronger than a bankroll. It was friendship, loyalty and affec- tion. In his ability to inspire affection from his thugs and murderers O’Banion had never been equalled by any leader in Gangland, although Capone himself was later to sur- round himself with a group of loyal and devoted henchmen. The murder of O’Banion had struck deeper than Torrio had expected, for now the heart of every follower of the amazing Irishman burned with « consuming fire of re- venge, and the result of it was the spectacular elimina- tion of the Gennas and the precipitate flight of Torrio himself to the safety of a jail cell. Meet “Little Mymie” Weiss, successor to Dion O'manlon, in the days when he was a mere bank robber and tough Suzy. “Little Mymie” possessed a blow-torch personality as you ought to be able to see from this photograph. “rll kill you for this,” was only part of what he maid when this pictures was being made. And now we come to the little blow-torch who stepped up to leadership in the North Side gang. At the grave “Little Hymie” Weiss had wept and vowed revenge, and had said that there would be no leader. “We'll just carry on as one gang,” he had said. Of course this was apple- sauce. Every O’Banion successor knew that “Little Hymie” was something of sn extraordinary fellow, brainy and with “guts” and that whatever he might say would go. Well, “Little Hymie” lost no time in getting into action. A few hours after the funeral he inaugurated the first of what was to be a long series of Bunitive expedi- tions into the preserves of Torrio and Capone and the doomed Genna brothers. To the end of his days he always referred contemptuously to them as “‘ 2 balle,” a phrase he persisted in using even when discussing them with O’Banion. It was Weiss who was the neculi of revolt in the first place, for he nourished a deadiy hatred for the Italians which he could ill-conceal. Legend has it that he ordered en expedition of vengeance into Capone-land immediately on his return from the cemetery and before the tears had vanished from his eyes. The tale is probably apocryphal, but “Little Hymie” was capable of impulsive action. It was his ability to get things done in a hurry, that enabled him to swell the profits of his gang until they were all enormously wealthy. In many respects this sardonic Pole was Gangland’s most amazing personality and, had he lived he would surely have become the Big Fellow. Weiss was a man of tremendous courage despite his slight stature. He was capable of unbelievable rages, and long periods of moody silence. From the floral shop, above which he had elaborate offices, he could stand on the spot where O’Banion had fallen, and, looking through the huge plate-glass window, see the beautiful facade of Holy Name Cathedral and the famous corner-stone which . bead: At the name of Jesus every knee should Bend in heaven and on earth, For long periods he would gaze moodily at it and then, turning suddenly on his heel shout a blasphemous order which would send his henchmen scampering into action, “Little Hymie” who had a premoni- tion of an early death, once said that although he didn’t expect to live long, he did expect to live long enough, His premonition was a good one, for he was to live but twenty- two months and fifteen days, count- ing from O’Banion’s death. For more than forty days “Little Hymie” failed to find an opportunity to take a shot at either Signor Ca- pone or Torrio, although he tand his men toured their territory almost constantly. And they toured in the finest automobiles that money could buy, and every automobile was equipped like an arsenal. On January 12 spies in the Capone terri- tory whispered té “Little Hymie” that the “grease- ball” was pruning himself in front of his hotel, the Haw- thorne Arms. Eleven power- ful limousines and touring ears glided by the hotel, and from every one of them came a volley of gunfire. But no one was injured, except an old lady who was passing and a small boy, neither seriously. It is said that Al sent $5,000 in bills to the old lady. Every building in the block, how- ever, was sprinkled with lead and neither Torrio nor Capone had to scratch their heads to think who might have made the attack. Hymie had failed, but he stil] had about 19 months more to live. He