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ess Johnny Torrio and Al Capone soon had the prohibition law looking silly. All the power built up by “Big” Jim Colosimo over a period of twenty years was inherited or appropriated by them and, in their hands, it became an excellent instrument with which to make the city all wet. Under Colosimo the politicians had done business with the dapper Johnny and they had put him down as a “right guy,” and so Johnny had no trouble in placing large hands- ful of dough here and there where it would mean some- thing. As for personnel, Jehnny and Al could muster a small army of pimps, panders, thugs, come-on men, bouncers, pick-pockets and other vermin already employed in the dives and bawdy houses owned or controlled uy them. This talented array was available at a moment’s notice to exert themselves in the beer cause, provided, of course, the beer belonged to Johnny and Alphonse. The next step in the beer scheme was to acquire a few breweries. Johnny laid hold. of two or three, but they weren't encugh. He went shopping again, this time north- ward to the Gold Coast where respectability slumbered. At the magnificent residence of a respectable gentleman, ostensibly a retired brewer, Johnny presented his proposi- tion, emphasizing his political pull, and, most of all the fact that if he, the ex-brewer, would contribute the half- dozen or more idle breweries owned by him, nobody need know a thing about it. The ex-brewer could retain the “ex” as far as the straphangers would ever know for, in case of any trouble, Johnny would take the rap. While Johnny was forming this famous partnership he was not a little dismayed to learn that two other ambitious gentlemen who were not at all averse to turning a hot dollar here and there in the new racket had got a running broad jump on him. These were Frankie Lake and Terry Druggan, products of the Old Valley District, who were to become famous in the annals of Gangdom as the Damon and Pythias of the beer barons. Buddies as boys, they had got their early training under the tutelage of the notorious Paddy “The Bear” Ryan and had be- come adept as wagon thieves, which is to say they could pry merchandise loose from trucks and delivery vans while these were in motion. When the Golden Era of rehibition dawned Frankie had become respectable and was holding down a job of putting out fires as a city fire- man. At the time Torrio, with only one or two beer manufac- tories of his own, was trying to annex enough to make a good showing, Terry and Frankie were operating as many as six or seven, Their first brewery had been acquired through one Richard Phillips, a partner in Colosimo'’s Cafe after the death of “Big” Jim. From the afore- mentioned ex-brewer they had acquired a little later the Gam- brinus, the Standard, the Hoff- man, the Pfeiffer and the Stege Brewing Companies. And so Frankie and Terry must be remembered as the boys who administered prohibition in Chicago its first swift kick in the hip pocket. They produced the first barrel of amber after Volstead and they owned the first trucks and vans that moved over the streets. They were the aheg EER FRONT ar gantesliad hw One of the few photographs in axistence of Johnny Torric, successor to “Big” Jim Colosimo, This ome was taken shortly after Torrio had found Gangland tcc tongh for him. A settled chill in his feet inspired him to scamper off to Italy where he could be ont of range of the automatics and machine guns of “Little Mymie” Weiss. most {7] smart, too, and were hormried at the prospect of becoming embroiled in any rough stuff. When one of their trucks was appropriated, as occasionally happened, they didn’t oil a gat or reach for a machine gun. When the toughest beer-runners in the ‘business, em- ployees of theirs, wanted to explode an automatic over in the O'Donnell territory, Terry and Frankie would have none of it. “Klondike” O'Donnell bought most of his beer from them anyway, so why not let him steal one occasion- ally. “What the hell,” chorused Terry and Frankie, “It’s only one load anyhow, so why bother about it. We'll just draw a lot of heat on ourselves if we rap those guys. Let ‘em get away with it this time.” And so no blood was shed for which Frankie and Terry were responsible. They continued on pleasant terms with “Klondike” O’Donnell, and shook hands with him when he backed up hia trucks to their breweries and bought his beer for distribution. Even when the war broke out Terry and Frankie made desperate efforts to preserve neutrality, and in a measure succeeded, Torrio’s vast political drag under the administration was a convincing argument, and he induced the ex-brewer to sign on the dotted line, stipulating however that he was to retain the title of “ex” which meant that Torrio was to be the front. He would remain incognito behind Torrio’s coat-tails should there be any trouble. It will be interesting to tell you that there was trouble and a long time later the ex-brewer was yanked from behind the aforementioned coat-tails. It required the combined efforts of two great newspapers to perform this feat, however. One of them, an afternoon newspaper, appeared one fine day with a mystery thriller in which the where- abouts of the ex-brewer was suggested although his name was not mentioned. This so irritated the Chicago Tribune that Mr. Joe Stengzon was unceremoniously tn- covered and tossed roughly right out onto page one where he was weil fried on both sides. But to return to earlier and happier days for Mr. Stenson, it may quite possibly be that he regarded the partnership with Johnny Torrio with misgivings and a sinking heart. Johnny had an unsavory reputation, and Mr. Stenson might have had an impulse to tell Johnny to f° straight to our beautiful ower regions. Instead of thus speaking however, he did the next best thing which was to stipulate that there was to be no gun-powder competition be- tween him and the Druggan- Lake interests. Torrio acquiesced and all gentlemen, ankie, Johnny, Terry, and Joe, walked hand in hand up to the beer front. Before long a score of brew- eries were operating day and night as in the good old days. Hoodiums, armed with auto- matics, sawed-off shot guns and other weapons, aided sometimes by the police guarded great con- voys as they rumbled over the cobbie-stones. So rapidly were they brought up to the beer front that Chicago soon found itself dotted with seven or eight thousand speakeasies, and the customers were lapping "em up at twenty-five cents a stein, proving again that the public pays and pays and pays. Access to these thirst clinics sometimes involved short walks down alleys and the presentation of creden- tials, but more often all that was involved was a thirst and a quarter. Johnny and Al charged fifty dollars a barrel for beer and protection, the latter item being important because no UY oy