could get caught. Or," added Jimmy thoughtfully,
"the owner might even take his car away before we got there."

Jake nodded. This one was going to make it easy for him.

As the days wore on, Jimmy became more selective. He saw no point in
reporting a car that wasn't going to be used. An easy mark wedged between
two other cars couldn't be removed with ease. A car parked in front of a
parking meter with a red flag was dangerous, it meant that the time was
up and the driver should be getting nervous about it. A man who came
shopping along the street to find a meter with some time left by the
former driver was obviously looking for a quick-stop place--whereas the
man who fed the meter to its limit was a much better bet.

Jake, thankful for what Fate had brought him, now added refinements of
education. Cars parked in front of supermarkets weren't safe; the owner
might be standing just inside the big plate glass window. The car parked
hurriedly just before the opening of business was likely to be a good bet
because people are careless about details when they are hurrying to punch
the old time clock.

Jake even closed down his operations during the calculated danger
periods, but he made sure to tell Jimmy Holden why.

From school-closing to dinnertime Jimmy was allowed to do as he pleased.
He found it hard to enjoy playing with his contemporaries, and Jake's
explanation about dangerous times warned Jimmy against joining Moe and
his little crew of thieves. Jimmy would have enjoyed helping in the
stripping yard, but he had not the heft for it. They gave him little
messy jobs to do that grimed his hands and made Jake's stern rule of
cleanliness hard to achieve. Jimmy found it easier to avoid such jobs
than to scrub his skin raw.

One activity he found to his ability was the cooking business.

Jake was a stew-man, a soup-man, a slum-gullion man. The fellows who
roamed in and out of Jake's Place dipped their plate of slum from the
pot and their chunk of bread from the loaf and talked all through this
never-started and never-ended lunch. With the delicacy of his "inside"
life, Jake knew the value of herbs and spices and he was a hard
taskmaster. But inevitably, Jimmy learned the routine of brewing a bucket
of slum that suited Jake's taste, after which Jimmy was now and then
permitted to take on the more demanding job of cooking the steaks and
chops that made their final evening meal.

Jimmy applied himself well, for the know