Charlie and the kid walked out the front door looking rather suspicious, onto the sidewalk, and disappeared down the alley.

"Did you get them?" Charlie asked.

"Right here in my pocket," the kid said nervously, trying to hide the bulge in his pocket. "Now what do we do with them?"

"Take them to the pawn shop," Charlie said matter-of-factly. "Then we can afford supper for a month."

"I don’t know, Charlie, this is stealing."

"No, kid," Charlie said curtly. "It’s survival. Let’s hurry before the coppers are onto us."

Acting nonchalant, Charlie stepped out onto the sidewalk, shuffling along like a penguin, twirling his cane, with the kid following right behind.

Peering around the corner to make sure the coast was clear, Charlie felt someone breathing down his neck. He turned around to see Constable McHenry standing there, larger than life, staring out over his thick mustache.

"All right, you two," he boomed, his voice echoing off the wall. "Hand them over."