Among the scrubby frame stores and dwellings of East 133rd Street in the vast, tawdry northern sector of New York City which is called The Bronx, sprawls the low brick structure of a fur dyeing factory, broad, ugly, busy. Beside it runs an alley full of old machinery. Into this alley one afternoon last week drove the factory manager with a $4,619 payroll, guarded by a policeman. Two youths stepped up to the car with drawn automatic pistols. One covered the manager, forced him out of the car, took the payroll. The other...
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