"Where'd you get the string?" asked Gaetano.

"Pierano tied them. Without my even asking. And he smiled at me. I'm becoming his best customer."

"Not you, you mook. He thinks whoever you're working for is his best customer. You're just a kid."

We walked toward Grandinetti's. I kept looking around for the thieves. "What're we going to do, Gaetano?"

"About what?"

"Our money, for one."

"I can keep the money safe."

"What if you can't?" I said.

"I can. With my big brother's help."

I twisted my fingers through the string around the sandwiches. "Well, what about that roll of paper? You already admitted you don't have anyplace to store it where it won't get rained on."

"I'll come up with something."

I looked over my shoulder again. "The thieves. A block back."

Gaetano didn't say anything.

"They won't know I don't have money on me," I said. "They'll jump me anytime they get me alone."

"After a few times of finding nothing in your pockets, they'll stop."

"I don't want to get jumped. It hurts. Where do they live?"

"What?" said Gaetano in surprise.

"I want to make sure I don't go on their street."

"I can't help you."

"Tell me," I said.

"You don't get it, do you? I don't know where they live, okay? I don't ask. That's how it is with the kids in Five Points." He stuck his finger in my chest. "I'll see you later. For now I've got to come up with a place to stash this roll of paper."

I hadn't realized that don't ask was the code of the whole neighborhood. It took a second to sink in. Then I ran and caught up to him. "Grandinetti's," I said. "Remember? That's the perfect place."

"He's Calabrese," said Gaetano. "He might act nice now, but if he gets mad at us, there's no telling what he'll do."

"You're wrong. And he can keep our money safe, too."

"I can keep the money safe," said Gaetano.

"It's going to be a lot soon. Your pockets aren't big enough."

"Stop talking. I've got to think."

We fell into step in silence.

Grandinetti was busy with the morning shoppers. He rushed about, counting out fruits and weighing vegetables and wrapping everything in newsprint from the Italian paper.

But we couldn't wait if we were going to sell sandwiches to the lunch crowd. So I stood behind Grandinetti and whispered, "Can we use the knife?"

"Where? My counter's busy now. You can see that."

"In your storeroom."

He looked at my bundle of long sandwiches. Then he shook his prayer hands at me. "Be careful. Let your friend use the knife." He jerked his chin toward Gaetano. "He's older."

While Gaetano cut the sandwiches, I wrapped them. The pile was high. "How can we carry them all?"

We searched around the storeroom and came up with an empty bushel basket. Gaetano started throwing the sandwiches in it.

My hand stayed his arm. "We have to ask first."

"He likes you. He'll say yes. Especially if the sandwiches are already in it."

"All right. But let me do it." I arranged the sandwiches neatly in three layers.

I went into the main part of the store. There was only one customer left, and she was taking her time choosing lettuce. I tapped Grandinetti on the arm.

He followed me into the storeroom. "What's this?"

"Could we borrow this basket?" I said. "Just for a few hours? Please."

"Okay, but I need it tonight."

"I promise." I gave Grandinetti back his knife. And I handed him a wrapped sandwich-a whole one, not just some small piece. "Lunch," I said with a smile.

Grandinetti looked at me. "You didn't have to do that, Dom."

Gaetano stood the roll of brown paper against the wall of the storeroom. "And we'll leave our paper as security."

"You mean you have no place else to keep it?" Grandi-netti turned to me and shook his prayer hands. "Are you trying to be a fox on me? No tricks, you hear?"

"We're just trying to do business," I said. "And we need your help. No tricks."

"All right. You can leave the roll of paper." Grandinetti kept his eyes on me. "Get out of here now."

"Thank you," I said.

Gaetano took one of the wire basket handles and I took the other. We carried the sandwiches out through the store.

Gaetano stopped in the doorway. He looked at me and pointed with his thumb down the street. One of the thieves leaned against a wall, watching Grandinetti's store. "One more thing," said Gaetano to Grandinetti. "Would you walk outside holding that knife and shake it at Dom?"

"What?"

"Then turn toward Chatham Square and shake it high in the air. Like you're threatening someone."

"We're putting on a play?" asked Grandinetti.

"Two guys are after me," I said. "One of them's watching."

"Is that how you got the fat lip?"

I nodded.

Grandinetti sighed. "I don't want my customers to see me shaking a knife."

"Then just point it," said Gaetano. "You don't have to shake it."

"All right already. Get out of here." Grandinetti shooed us out the door. He pointed the knife at me. Then he swung it in an arc and pointed toward Chatham Square.

The thief took off running.

Gaetano really was smart.

"And one last thing," said Gaetano.

"Basta," said Grandinetti. "Enough is enough."

"Just a little towel." Gaetano cocked his head and shifted his weight and somehow his whole appearance changed. He seemed much younger, more in need of help. "We have to cover the basket. So no one knows what's in it. Otherwise, kids will snatch sandwiches as we're walking."

Grandinetti slapped his palm on his forehead. Then he put his fists on his hips. "On one condition."

"What?"

"You cut the bull with me. No more phony talk about the paper being security. No more acts. You treat me straight, I'll treat you straight."

Gaetano offered his hand, all grown up again. "Gae-tano," he said.

"Francesco," said Grandinetti.

They shook.

Grandinetti took the towel from his shoulder and spread it over the sandwiches. "Get out of here. But have that basket and towel back before I close shop."

Within a few minutes of our arriving at Tin Pan Alley's corner, a trickle of people came out of the buildings. The lunch break was just starting.

"You'd better patrol," I said to Gaetano.

"It's okay," said Tin Pan Alley. "My padrone came by while you were gone. I bet he's off eating now." He looked at a passing man. "Sandwiches," he called out in English. "The best in town."

"What's that mean?" I asked. When he told me, I practiced the words under my breath. "Sandwiches. The best in town. Sandwiches. The best in town."

Gaetano unwrapped a whole sandwich and slowly ate it. We hadn't talked about each of us getting a whole sandwich. Now we'd only have eight to sell-but I'd started it by giving Grandinetti a whole sandwich.

I felt faint with hunger. The bigger he chewed, the fainter I felt, but the more sandwiches we sold.

Then it was Tin Pan Alley's turn to eat.

"Sandwiches," I called out. "The best in town."

Gaetano smirked. "Listen to you try to speak English. You sound worse than Tin Pan Alley."

"He sounds good to me," said Tin Pan Alley. "He sounds perfect. Go on, Dom."

"The best in town," I called.

A woman bought a sandwich.

Gaetano stared at me.

I strutted; I couldn't help it.

Then it was my turn to eat. When I'd ordered the sandwiches at Pierano's, I'd thought about getting one without meat. But I figured it wouldn't sell as well. So now I picked out the meat.

Gaetano watched me. "That's not salami. That's ham. What, you don't like ham, either?"

I shook my head.

"Well, don't do the dog routine again."

"Why not?"

"It's not fair. I won't act like a dog, so Tin Pan Alley gets more meat than me. If you're going to give away your ham, give half to me."

"Wait," said Tin Pan Alley. He pulled slices of cheese out of his pocket. "I saved my cheese in case you didn't like the meat today, either. I can trade for your meat."

So I ate my thick cheese sandwich.

We sold out. And still there were people asking for sandwiches.

"We'll have more tomorrow," said Tin Pan Alley in English. "Bring your friends. We'll have lots more." Then he told us what he'd promised.

"Good work. See you tomorrow." I put twenty-five cents in Tin Pan Alley's cup.

He looked at it. "That's five more than we agreed on."

"That's right," said Gaetano. "At least the mook can count."

"Five extra are for yesterday." I didn't look at Gaetano as I spoke. "And tomorrow we'll start earlier and sell more.So it'll take more of your time. So we'll put more in your cup." I turned and picked up the empty basket.