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“If I ever wanted it, to-night will be the time,” his father answered.

Henry frowned. “I guess I’ll have to buy one,” he said. “I can get a good second-hand bus on the instalment plan——”

Charlie shook his head. “Work—and pay your way as you go,” he advised. “Then you need fear no midnight knock upon the door.”

“Old stuff,” replied Henry, and made a leisurely exit.

Chan shrugged, and attacked his breakfast. Evelyn, aged fifteen, was addressing him. “Gee—I thought Shelah Fane was swell. I saw her in some swell parts.”

“Enough!” cried Charlie. “Vast English language is spread out before you, and you select for your use the lowliest words. I am discouraged.”

His wife appeared with his oatmeal and the tea. She was a jolly-looking woman, nearly as broad as Chan, with a placid smiling face. If her children and her husband had far outdistanced her in the matter of adjustment to a new land, she was, judging from her calm eyes, not at all distressed. “Heah about Shelah Fane,” she remarked. “Plitty tellible thing.”

“What do you know about Shelah Fane?” Charlie asked, surprised.

“All time chillun make talk, Shelah Fane, Shelah Fane,” his wife said. “I think mus’ be velly fine woman. I want you catch bad man plenty quick.”

Chan choked on his hot tea. “If I do not, I perceive I am expelled from my own household. May I respectfully ask that you give me time. Much work to be done on this case.”

“Mebbe you have moah tea,” his wife suggested.