Twist sent to Williamsburg for his friend and ally, Cyclone Louie. The latter was a bull-necked, highly muscled individual, who was a professional strong man--so far as he was professionally anything--and earned occasional side-show money at Coney Island by bending iron bars about his neck and twisting pokers into corkscrews about his brawny arms. Louie, Twist and Dahl went into council over mutual beer, and Twist explained the imperative call for the Bottler's extermination. Also, he laid bare the delicate position of both himself and Dahl. In country regions neighbors aid one another in bearing the burdens of an agricultural day by changing work. The custom is not without what one might call gang imitation and respect. Only in the gang instance the work is not innocent, but bloody. Louie, having an appreciation of what was due a friend, could not do less than come to the relief of Twist and Dahl. Were positions reversed, would they not journey to Williamsburg and do as much for him? Louie did not hesitate, but placed himself at the disposal of Twist and Dahl. The Bottler should die; he, Louie, would see to that. “But when?” Twist, replying, felt that the thing should be done at once, and mentioned the following evening, nine o'clock. The place should be the Bottler's establishment in Suffolk Street. Louie, of whom the Bottler was unafraid and ignorant, should experience no difficulty in approaching his man. There would be others present; but, practiced in gang moralities, slaves to gang etiquette, no one would open his mouth. Or, if he did, it would be only to pour forth perjuries, and say that he had seen nothing, heard nothing. Having adjusted details, Louie, Twist and Dahl compared watches. Watches? Certainly. Louie, Twist and Dahl were all most fashionably attired and--as became members of a gang nobility--singularly full and accurate in the important element of a front, _videlicet_, that list of personal adornments which included scarf pin, ring and watch. Louie, Dahl and Twist saw to it that their timepieces agreed. This was so that Dahl and Twist might arrange their alibis. It was the next evening. At 8.55 o'clock Twist was obtrusively in the Delancey Street police station, wrangling with the desk sergeant over the release of a follower who had carefully brought about his own arrest. “Come,” urged Twist to the sergeant, “it's next to nine o'clock now. Fix up the bond; I've got a date over in East Broadway at nine-thirty.” While Twist stood thus enforcing his whereabouts and the hour upon the attention of the desk sergeant, Dahl was eating a beefsteak in a Houston street restaurant. “What time have youse got?” demanded Dahl of the German who kept the place. “Five minutes to nine,” returned the German, glancing up at the clock. “Oh, t'aint no such time as that,” retorted Dahl peevishly. “That clock's drunk! Call up the telephone people, and find out for sure.”