The initials on the signature of the letter, I guessed were those of Pietro Inzarillo. This man conducted a little Italian café at No. 226 Elizabeth Street, in the same block where Acritelli's bank was, and also in the same block where the sub post office station was located where the letter had been registered. Also, I knew that this Inzarillo was just around the corner from the grocery store of Lupo, at No. 8 Prince Street; and in the back of Lupo's café, Morello conducted his Italian restaurant. I examined the five-dollar counterfeit bill and saw that it was the work of the Lupo-Morello gang. Then, too, the return address, No. 8 Prince Street, was where Morello and Lupo were doing business. The problem was how to connect these two fellows with the writing of the letter. It had been rejected when brought back there by the letter carrier. I hit upon the plan of finding out whether the handwriting was that of Lupo, which I had reason to believe it was. I remembered that several of the Lupo-Morello gang were in the Tombs awaiting trial for counterfeiting. I knew that many of their friends applied to United States Marshal Henkel for passes to visit the members of the gang locked up. Two of these were Isadore Crocervera and Giuseppe DePriema. The latter, by the way, was the brother-in-law of the man found murdered in the barrel. I went to Marshal Henkel and told him what I was after, and made arrangements with him to get the handwriting of all those who called and asked for passes to see the two Morello-Lupo counterfeiters. So whenever the visiting members called at the marshal's office and asked for passes the marshal pretended that he did not understand and had the visitors write out what they wished and required them to sign the request for passes. In this way I obtained the signature and handwriting of a number of the gang, but failed in the main purpose, namely, that of obtaining a sample of Lupo's handwriting or his signature. Despite the fact that I was satisfied that the workmanship of the bill was that of the Lupo-Morello crowd, and though I was confident that Lupo wrote the letter, yet when the letter was returned to No. 8 Prince Street nobody there would accept it for Giuseppe Conti, the information to the letter carrier being that no such person lived there or was known there. When you know the ways of the Sicilian criminal this occurrence alone is good grounds for believing that a great deal more was known about Giuseppe Conti at the Prince Street address than was given to the letter carrier. I hit upon another plan. I knew that Lupo was importing into this country a large quantity of olive oil, which had to pass the government officials. Accordingly, I went to see John Hughes, brother of former Inspector of Police Edward Hughes, who was at one time in charge of the Detective Bureau at Police Headquarters. I told Hughes what I wanted. He was in the Custom's service.