brother's face. "That's just a friendly tip from a fellow that knows more than you think he does."
"Who?" demanded Ben hoarsely.
"Me." Tony grinned again and flipped his cigarette ashes on the bare floor. "Say, Ben, can I have your car to-morrow night?"
"No. I'm usin' it myself. That's my night off."
"How about the next night?"
"No. You'd prob'ly get in trouble with it. Kids and cars don't go together."
"All right. I'll have one o' my own pretty soon and I'm goin' to get it as easy as you got that one."
With which parting shot, Tony went in to bed, slamming the door shut behind him. How a fellow making a hundred and fifty a month could acquire honestly a car that cost nearly three thousand dollars was too much for Tony. But then all policemen had big cars, and captains had strings of apartment buildings and sent their children to European finishing schools.
The strange quiet that momentarily descended over the Guarino household at this time of night was balm to Tony. It was the only period of the twenty-four hours that he could spend at home without feeling that he was about to go crazy. The
