By the time he was twenty-two, he was the owner of a small cannery in Atlantic City and he had six people working for him. He would go and talk to the...fishermen as well as the farmer in a fifty miles radius and try to buy from them - at a low price - some of the surplus that their garden produced or the excess harvest from the sea in the case of fishermen. He would buy everything that could be canned. He had his own brand name for the many products that he processed and sold to the stores. . I guess I can talk to you later,” he demurred.“Why, do you have class?”“No, just study hall, but...”“We can be a few minutes late to photography, don’t worry.”He still hesitated, throwing a furtive glance Muireann’s way.I suddenly realized what his issue was and laughed. “Oh, Muireann knows what’s going on with Pete. You can talk, it’s fine.”Bruno’s face took on some relief at this. “All right. I didn’t know if it was cool.”“It is,” I said, as we set off down the long hall. “So, why is he. More

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