他保证会的。
然后我把问题抛给他。"你能带一支手枪给我吗？"
他想了一会然后说，"你知道，做这件事对我来说很简单。你知道，我每天带着油漆桶和油漆刷出去，没有人检查或者其它什么事。完全没有困难。"
"好的，"我说。"我需要一把枪和一些钢锯刀片。"
特努托和沃尔德伦（Tenuto and Waldron ）不同意。"不要和他有任何联系，"他们说。"这个婊子养的叛徒会直接告诉监狱当局。他们会逮住你打爆你的头的。"
这确实在冒险。"我想就我所做的事情和我所遇到的人来说，我对人性还是有些了解的。这或许是我冒了非常大的风险，但是我们还能做什么呢？我们要一直呆在这。"不管怎么说，如果发生意外，是由我承担后果，而不是他们或者其他人。
现在的问题是要有人将手枪藏在兰基可以拿到的地方。在我们解决这个问题前，有个巧合的事情发生了，我认为会很有帮助。以前霍利黑帮的乔治·摩尔（Georgie Moore ）突然以我兄弟的身份来探望我。乔治和一个叫奇克沃尔什（ Chick Walsh ）的银行抢劫犯以及另一个家伙正在一个银行外转悠。这个沃尔什也是个声名狼藉的家伙。他们刚刚得到皇后区的一个工资单并且看上了几个银行作为目标。乔治非常了解我，想知道我认为自己有多大机会越狱出去并加入他们。
我说:"我将在30天内出去。你们住在哪里？"
他住在第八大道附近的52街。
"你在纽约最热的地方。"我抱怨说。"你要离开那。离开市中心。在我出来前不要做任何事。不要再冒险来这里和说你是我的兄弟。你要听我的。"
嗯，超过了30天才等到我们盼望的暴风雪。就乔治关心的事情来看，这不重要。我出去的时候，他进来了。我一直认为市中心位置对我来说太热了，乔治也一样。他花了很长时间搬出去，警察对工资单抢劫案有了线索，他们都被判了30年刑期。（几年后，当我们都在阿提卡的时候，我通过法律技术手段将沃尔什和摩尔（Walsh and Moore ）两个都救出去了，这完全是另一个故事。）
就在这同时，我们开始实施获取枪支的计划。兰基开始粉刷典狱长的房子，当工作快结束的时候，典狱长已经搬走了。兰基给我们画了一张该地区的小图。在房子的一边有三个邮箱列成一排，兰基的主意是在中间那根混凝土柱子后面堆起一堆泥土作为标记。我们外面的人所要做的就是把枪和刀片塞埋进去，而兰基在结束工作之前所要做的就是把油漆桶倒空，这样他就把泥土和所有东西都挖出来，带回监狱。
我们外面的人是斯宾斯·沃尔德伦（Spence Waldro）的女朋友。也可以是任何其他人，她刚好来拜访他。斯宾斯要她开车在那个区域巡视一遍，当她下一周回来的时候，告诉他她已经找到标记的地方了。我们已经同意，如果她答应，他要告诉她五天后将这些东西藏在那里。
我要告诉你，在我脑海中闪过了一百万种想法。斯宾斯和弗雷迪仍然不相信兰基。就他们的看法而言，典狱长在那个特殊的时候搬出了自己的房子，这太巧合了。但是我下定决心要尽快离开那个监狱或者干脆死了算了。
然而，直到枪支要被藏匿的那一天，我把他叫过来说，"枪应该藏在那里了。"
他自信满满的说，如果枪在那，一定能拿回来。
这是我一生中最长的一天。好家伙，我度日如年直到兰基带着他的桶从门口进来。他从我身边走过进入到他的囚室。几分钟后他出来对我说，"我拿到了。" 他在最后几分钟中决定，没有必要冒风险带一桶泥土回监狱。而是用玻璃纸将枪和锯片紧紧的包裹起来，然后用足够的油漆在油漆桶里覆盖它们。
"好吧，"我喃喃的说。"我一会去拿。"
弗雷迪（Freddie）和我被关在同一侧，但是·沃尔德伦（Waldron）在走廊另一侧上面4个囚室处。一有机会我就向他点点头，说:"他…已经…拿到了…。他已经…带…进来了"
斯宾斯（Spence Waldron）只是摇头，一脸严肃。
一会儿，我从兰基那拿到了，并用布包起来藏在床垫下。6把刀片和手枪。格子里塞满了。
现在，我想如果这个家伙要陷害我，他们很可能会冲进我的囚室并打爆我的头。一直到晚上什么也没有发生。第二天也是一样。什么也没有发生。我们三个家伙在等待。兰基对我们的计划一无所知。如果该死的事情要来的话，就一定会现在就降临在囚室里。
209-210页原文
He sure would.
So I put it on him. “Would you help me out by bringing in a pistol?”
He thought for quite a while and then he said, “You know, it would be very easy for me to do that. You know, I carry a paint can out every day and a paint brush. Nobody searches me or anything. I don’t think I’d have any difficulty at all.”
“Well,” I said. “I’ll need a gun and I’ll need some hacksaw blades.”
“I’ll bring them in for you,” he said. He sounded almost grateful.
Tenuto and Waldron weren’t. “Don’t have anything to do with him,” they said. “The rat sonofabitch will run right to the authorities. They’ll set you up and blow your head off.”
That was the risk. “I think I know a little about human nature with all the time I’ve done and all the people I’ve met. It might be a hell of a chance I’ve taken, but what the hell is left? We’re buried here.” And anyway, if anything happened the building was going to fall on me, not on them or anybody else.
It was now a matter of having somebody plant the pistol where Langy could pick it up. Before we had got around to that, one of those coincidences turned up that I thought was going to be very helpful. I got a surprise visit from Georgie Moore of the old Hawley mob, who had signed in as my brother. Georgie was hanging around with a bank robber named Chick Walsh and another guy. This Walsh had quite a reputation too. They had just taken a payroll out in Queens and they were looking at a couple of banks. Georgie, who knew me pretty well, wanted to know what I thought my chances were of busting out and joining them.
I said: “I’m going to be out of here in thirty days. Where are you living?”
He was living on Fifty-second Street over near Eighth Avenue.
“You’re in the hottest place in New York.” I groaned. “You got to get out of there. Get out of midtown. Don’t do anything until I get out. Don’t take any more crazy chances like coming here and saying you’re my brother. You’ll hear from me.”
Well, it took more than the thirty days before we got the snowfall we were looking for. As far as Georgie was concerned, it didn’t matter. When I got out, he was back in. I was thinking that the midtown address would be too hot for me. It also was too hot for Georgie. He took his time about moving out, the police had a lead on the payroll robbery, and they got thirty years apiece. (Years later, when we were all at Attica, I got both Walsh and Moore out on legal technicalities, which is another story entirely.)
In the meantime, we had laid the plans for planting the gun. Langy had started to paint the warden’s house, and while the job was being done the warden had moved out. Langy drew us a little diagram of the area. Off to the side of the house there were three mailboxes set in a row, and Langy’s idea was to pile a mound of dirt behind the concrete post of the middle one as a marker. All our outside man would have to do was shove the gun and the blades into it, and all Langy would then have to do was empty out his paint bucket before he left the job and he’d be able to scoop it up, dirt and all, on his way home.
Our outside man turned out to be Spence Waldron’s girl friend. It could have been anybody, she just happened to come in to visit him. Spence had her cruise by the place in her automobile, and when she came back the next week she told him she had located it. We had already agreed that if she gave the word he was to tell her to plant the stuff five days later.
I tell you there were a million thoughts running through my mind. Spence and Freddie still didn’t trust Langy. As far as they were concerned, it was just too pat that the warden should have vacated his house at that particular time. But I was absolutely determined to get out of that prison or get killed as quickly as I could.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t until the day the gun was going to be planted that I called him over and said, “They’re supposed to be there.”
If they were there, he said with confidence, he’d get them.
The longest day of my life. Boy, I counted the minutes and I counted the hours until Langy came through the door that night, carrying his pail. He walked right by me and across to his cell. A few minutes later he came out and he said to me, “I got ’em.” He had decided at the last minute that it would be taking an unnecessary risk to come back into the prison with a pailful of dirt. Instead, he had wrapped the gun and the hacksaw blades tightly in cellophane and left enough paint in the can to cover them over.
“All right,” I murmured. “I’ll pick ’em up a little later.” Freddie locked on the same side that I did, but Waldron was up about four cells on the other side of the corridor. At the first opportunity I nodded my head to him and mouthed: “He’s . . . got . . . them. He’s . . . brought . . . them . . . in.”
Spence just shook his head. Grimly.
Later on, I got them from Langy and I wrapped them up in cloth and hid it all under my mattress. Half a dozen blades and the pistol. Chambers filled.
Now I figured if this guy is going to set me up they will probably come bouncing into my cell and knock my brains out. I waited that night and nothing happened. All through the following day. Nothing happened. The three of us waited. Langy knew nothing about our plan, remember. If the knockoff was going to come it would have to come right in the cell..
.
.