Ernie, paying no heed, opened the door of the car, and put the bag inside.
"That was a pretty pick-up you got hold of top of the bus that time," Alf continued quietly.
Ern faced his brother.
"What's this then?" he asked, rather white.
"That tart top o the bus that night."
Ernie was breathing deep as he shut the door of the car elaborately.
"I thought you was a churchman then," he said. "Took the sacraments, marched in processions and carried the bag, from what I hear of it."
Alf looked round warily. Then he came boring in upon the other, as though determined to penetrate his secret.
"What if I do!" he said. "'Taint Sunday to-day, is it?—'Taint Sunday all the time."
Some one buried in the boot-hole laughed.