"No, I didn't know that," Bolan admitted.

"I'll bet you didn't know that 'Mafia' translates back to mean 'Matthew.' Matthew means 'brave, bold.' It had to be a secret society because it was going up against the establishment, see, the establishment of those olden times. There was tyranny, see, and all the money was divided up between the rich bastards, the noblemen, the aristocracy. All the laws were rigged to keep the poor people poor and the rich people rich. See? That's how all laws got started. Everywhere, not just in Italy and Sicily. Laws were written to protect the rich bastards, see. So these bold, brave guys got together in a resistance movement. They set up the Mafia, and it's been nip and tuck ever since." "Hippies," Bolan grunted. "What?"

"Early Italian hippies," Bolan said, grinning. "What were they demonstrating for-a pizza in every pot?"

Turrin's face clouded. "I don't think I like your sense of humor. I'm being serious. The Mafia is a very democratic idea."

"Okay, I'll be serious," Bolan replied. "But-uh-what's the moral of the thing, Leo? I mean, maybe a hundred years ago, in Italy or Sicily or wherever it was-okay, I can see the picture. But not over here. Not now. I mean, there is a democracy in this country. A legal democracy."

Turrin laughed lustily. "Shit!" he guffawed. "Don't let yourself get brainwashed. Things haven't changed that much. The rich still get richer while the poor get poorer. There's still a place here for the bold and the brave."

"Don't get me wrong," Bolan said. "I'm not arguing against the organization-hell, I'm part of it now. I just like to see things like they really are."

"Then see them like they really are. Don't get to feeling like a lousy criminal. You're the guy said you didn't have a dime to your name. Over there getting your ass shot off to protect the rich bastard's riches. See it like it is, Sarge. Didn't Seymour say he was starting you at two-fifty a week? Hell-does that sound like the poor getting poorer?"