The Keymaker's Dilemma

In one fine town, there lives an old chap. His name is Smith. Everybody knows him. People in that town call him Lock Smith for his true talent of fixing rusty lock. Some of his good mates call him Rusty Smith, because he does smells rust at the end of the day when they sit down for a pint. Smith is an honest man, he is as honest as a donkey, his good old mates say. He didn't even fall for Mrs Lee's cry when she asked him to change her door lock, says another mates. Mrs Lee was some rich old lady who was trying to lock out her husband. Poor old Lee said Smith. He won't be dying in his bed for sure, he thought.

One day, while sitting on his nice confy chair at his balcony, watching the evening passes by, in coming in a rush a little boy, about 7, calling and crying. He was looking straight at Mr. Smith. With a very sad eye, with his left hand squeezing his right hand's thumb, he cried for help. "Please Mr. Smith", he cried. "You got to help my dad", he said.

The whole scene numbed Mr. Smith for a bit, my day should be over, he said in his heart. But what the heck, I'll help this innocent little boy he said. Very quickly he grab his tools and went to the boy. Without any words, the boy took Mr. Smith to his dad. At every corner that they pass by, the boy said "right over here Mr. Smith". Soon enough, they arrived at a bakery shop. Mr Smith looked around, and was puzzled with broken glass on the floor which he guessed came from a small window up on the wall. "Please be quick Mr Smith, my dad fell from the window to the other side" the little boy cried again. Mr. Smith can't help thinking what was happening there. So he asked. With sad eyes, the boy murmured that his dad was trying to get a cake he hid yesterday in that shop. It was for his little sister's birthday.

Mr. Smith paused for a while. He understood that the dad was trying to steal a cake for his daughter's birthday, but fell from the window and probably lying on the floor unconscious. Stealing, he said in his heart, is so wrong, he should go to jail for this he murmured. But this boy will be in trouble if the dad is not around. They are poor now, and what more will it become if the dad is gone, he ponder. Mr. Smith sat down, leaning against a wall, looking at the shop, the boy, the window. He has no trouble picking the door lock. He have done it many times for shop owners who forgot their keys. 

The boy went to the broken glass, very carefully picked all the pieces and stack it by the wall. He took his shirt fold it square, he sweep the glass debris very carefully, pushing it near the wall. Probably the boy thought at least nobody get hurt if the glass is near the wall. Done that, the boy sat down underneath the window, just like what his dad wants him to do. Supposedly a short wait, he has been waiting for a very long while now.

If you are Mr. Smith. What will you do?