When ' Kid ' Brady fell in love with Molly McKeever, he decided to leave the criminal gang that he belonged to.

His gang worked in the west of New York, between Eleventh and Twelfth Avenues , near the river. By day, they stood lazily on street corners in their fine suits, occasionally speaking quietly to each other. But their real business was taking money from the good people of New York. Mostly they preferred to do this without any noise, or any blood. But any New Yorkers who weren't happy to lose their money in this way soon found themselves either in the hospital or the name of a newly dead person in a police notebook.

When Brady told the others that he was leaving the gang, they were sorry. He was the finest, strongest, and cleverest of them all. But they didn't try to stop him. For criminals like them, it was neither wrong nor unmanly to do what your girlfriend wanted.

'OK,' Brady told Molly one night when she was asking him to end his life of crime. 'I'll get a job, and in a year I'll marry you. We can get somewhere nice to live.'

'Oh, Kid,' said Molly,' That's great. We can be happy with just a little.''But,' said Brady, 'I won't have money for good suits like before. That'll be hard.'

'Don't worry. I'll love you just the same.'

So Brady started working as a plumber . That was what he studied when he was younger. For eight months he worked hard, and stayed true to Molly.

Then, one day, he came home with a strange parcel .

'Open that, Moll,' he said quietly. 'It's for you.'

Molly took off the paper, screamed happily, and put something long, dark, and soft around her neck.

'The best Russian furs ,' said Brady.

'Thank you, Kid,' said Molly. 'I never had any furs before. But aren't Russian furs expensive?'

'Could I ever buy you anything cheap? Hey, Moll, you look great in them.'

Then he saw Molly looking at him with sad eyes. He knew what that look meant.

'I paid for them with good money,' he said.

'Sure. With the $75 dollars a month that you get from working as a plumber.'

'Look, I had some money from before, too. I left the gang for you, Moll, remember? Now put on those furs, and let's go out for a walk.'

So they went for a walk. Fine Russian furs were big news for the poor people living on that side of New York. Soon everyone was talking about them.

Detective Ransom was walking down the street not far behind them.

'Why is everyone so excited?' he asked one man standing on a street corner.

'Kid Brady got his girlfriend the best Russian furs, they say. Has anyone lost any expensive furs lately?'

'But Brady left the gang, didn't he? Now I heard that he's working at his old job.'

'Right. But some say that he paid $900 for those furs. How can a plumber find money like that?'

Ransom walked faster, and soon found Brady and Molly walking slowly along the street.

'Can I speak to you for a minute?' he asked quietly, touching Brady's arm.

Brady looked at him angrily.

'Were you at Mrs Hethcote's house on West Seventh Street yesterday, mending a water pipe ?'

'Yes,' said Brady. 'Why?'

'The old lady 's thousand dollar Russian furs left the house at about the same time that you did. The way that Mrs Hethcote described them, they're just like the ones that the young lady's wearing.'

'Ransom,' Brady began, 'I bought those furs today at–' and then he stopped.

'OK. So let's go to the shop where you bought the furs – with the lady – and find out if what you're saying is true.'

'Let's do that,' said Brady hotly.

Then he looked suddenly across at Molly's worried face and smiled strangely.

'It's no good,' he said suddenly, 'You're right, Ransom. They're the Hethcote furs. Molly, you'll have to give them to the police.'

Molly, her eyes full of tears, held Brady's arm.

'Oh, Kid, how could you do it? I was so pleased with you, and now they'll send you to jail – and where's our happy life together?'

'Come on, Ransom,' said Brady wildly, 'Take the furs. I'm ready. Wait a minute, I think I'll... No... I can't. Molly, go home.'

Just then, Policeman Kohen came round the corner. Ransom stopped him and explained about the furs.

'Sure. I heard about the Hethcote furs,' said Kohen, 'And you say that these are the same. Can I see them? I sold furs when I was younger.'

He looked at the furs carefully.

'These are Alaskan, not Russian. And they cost about twenty doll... '

Suddenly Brady hit Kohen in the face, Molly screamed, and Ransom quickly put some handcuffs on the 'Kid'.

'They cost about twenty dollars only,' Kohen went on, 'not a thousand.'

Brady's face turned red.

'You're right,' he said, 'I paid $21.50 for them. But I was ready to go to prison for six months for Molly never to know how much they really cost. I hate cheap things.'

Molly put her arms round his neck.

'Look, I don't want expensive furs, or lots of money. I just want you, Kid,' she said.

'Take the handcuffs off him, Inspector,' said Kohen. 'While I was leaving the police station, I heard the latest news about the Hethcote furs. The old lady found them at the back of her wardrobe . Young man, I'll forget about you hitting me – just this once.'

Just before the policemen left, Ransom gave Molly back her furs. She smiled at Brady and put them round her neck again like a real lady. c2s3dvA1D/+m01cGvjQ0blBvfdHWLmbq7su4LeIp9slnWcsnbj7grIVog7pWTYHJ