4/2 ANGEL PAVEMENT

So you can just tell them you're finishing now, tMs
minute."

"Oh, I can't do that, Dad. We're busy."

"I don't care how busy you are, George. You've o-ot
to stop."

"Oh, all right—if you feel like that about it. But look
here, Dad, I must finish that job I'm doing now."

"How long will that take you?"

"Ten minutes. Quarter of an hour. Shouldn't be
longer/'

"All right," said Mr. Smeeth grimly, "111 wait/' And
he waited twenty minutes; but at the end of that time,
George came out, washed and brushed and without his
overalls.

"I might have lost the week's money, walking out like
that," he told his father, "but they paid up—like good
sports."

"Who are 'they'?"

"There's another chap running this besides Barrett, a
chap called McGrath—proper motor mechanic, he is."

"And is he a wrong 'un, too?"

"Not more than most. McGrath's all right."

"Tell me this, George," said Mr. Smeeth, halting and
looking very earnestly at his son, "did your mother know
anything about this police court business?"

"Course she didn't, Dad. I wasn't going to tell her"

"I see/' said Mr. Smeeth, relieved to find there had
been no general conspiracy. "But why didn't you tell
me, boy? I can't understand you keeping a thing like
this to yourself."

They were walking on again now. "Oh, I didn't want
to bother you about it," replied George coolly. "I knew
there'd be a lot of gassing and fussing if I did. And there