now and then at night to have a little drink of beer with me. I've known them for years."
"What are your names, and where do you live and work?" the captain asked.
They were ready with that information. They had prepared it in advance; and, if their answers were investigated, they would stand the test.
"Well, maybe you're all right, but we can't afford to take any chances," the captain said. "The Black Star's gang has made a haul in the jewelry house on the other side of the block, and we're taking a good look at every man around here. You'll have to stand a search, or be taken in!"
The five fishermen announced that they were willing to be searched. The search was carried out immediately. From their pockets were taken knives, bits of twine, chewing tobacco, soiled handkerchiefs—things one would expect to find in the pockets of such men. They had, of course, hidden their vapor guns and their drilling tools in a safe place under the cellar flagstones before the police came upon them.
"Well, what are you hanging around here to-night for?" the captain demanded.
"They just came up to have a little drink with me, and to get some fresh bread," the baker explained. "They are waiting for it now—fresh-bread and light biscuits. Jim, there, is a fiend for my light biscuits."
As he finished speaking, the baker turned to his oven and opened the door. A delicious aroma streamed forth, and the men sniffed. Bread and biscuits were tumbled out, and the baker started wrapping them up.
