ially, "but
whatever it's worth, I don't pay for a job until it's finished."

At this point Cadge's torrent of eloquence swept away all punctuating
pauses and he became slightly incoherent, but the drift of his harangue
was that because he had worked like a slave and finished the wall in two
days they wanted to rob him of his money. "I'll 'ave the six dollars for
my work, or I'll 'ave the lor on you," he concluded.

The amiable but tactless Snavely saw a happy solution of the problem.
"Never mind, Mrs. Pipkin," he said, "there shall be no lawsuit. You pay
me the six dollars, and I will write Cadge a receipt for the seven
dollars he owes me. I lose a dollar that way, to be sure, but then it is
just the same as finding six."

"Ho! that's your game is it?" snarled Cadge, gasping with indignation.
"That's 'ow you two plot against a poor 'ard-workin' man with a family,
to beat him out of 'is pay. H'it's a put-up job, that's wot h'it is! But
you don't get the best of Tom Cadge that way. I'll 'ave a h'orficer 'ere
if I don't get my money, you bloomin' old plotters, you!"

"Yes, you had better call an officer," agreed Mr. Snavely. "I saw one
around the corner as I passed; the same one your brats were pelting from
behind a fence last week."

Mr. Cadge tacked adroitly. "No, I ain't going to spend my money with the
loryers, as'd want twelve dollars to get you back six. I'll tear down
the wall, that's wot I'll do. If I don't get my pay the loidy don't get
her wall, and you can tike your measly job and give it to some poor man
wot needs it."

Mr. Snavely had one foot on the wheel and swung lightly into his cart.
"Have it your own way, Cadge," he responded cheerfully. "You can finish
the wall and get your six dollars cash, or you can leave it as it stands
and take my receipt for seven, or you can tear it down and have your
labor for your pains; but mind, if the police catch you destroying
property, you will get a month in the chain gang."

"I don't care if I get sixty days!" screamed the outraged laborer. "The
city can look after my missus and the kids if their nateral provider is
took from them. That wall is comin' down! I'm h'only a workin'-man, and
I don't mind bein' spit on once in a while, but I won't stand for it
bein' rubbed in."

It was a sultry June day, the first of the summer vacation, and toward
noon Mrs. Cadge set out to take her husband a bite of lunch. The little
Cadges accompanied her, eager to exhibit the no