A man directly across the circle from Little raised a hand. The doctor nodded to him.
"When we were loading food, before we made that break, I dropped my testing kit into my pack first of all. I didn't try to cover it up and I concentrated on boxed articles of food afterward to make it look natural." The speaker was one of Goldthwaite's assistants, a tall fellow with the insignia of a technician's mate. Little knew him fairly well. He had been born on Earth but showed plainly a background of several generations on the colony-planet Regulus Six—big bones, dark skin, quick reactions.
"Good work, Dennis. What is in the kit?"
"Pliers, volt-ammeter, about sixty feet of assorted sizes of silver wire, two-thousand-line grating, midget atomic wire-welder, six plano-convex lenses of various focal lengths, support rod and two mirrors to go with them, and a small stroboscope."
"Item, one portable laboratory," remarked Little. "Congratulations. Leo, I suppose you have outdone your brother?"
Leo Dennis, the twin brother of the first speaker, shook his head. "Just an old-fashioned manual razor. I'll start accepting offers tomorrow." Little smiled and fingered his chin.
"You're too late, unless someone brought scissors to start with. Safety razors weren't built to cope with a ten-day growth, more or less. Never mind, we may find a use for it—it's a cutting tool, anyway. Next?"
There was a pause, with everybody looking expectantly at his neighbor. Evidently the total had been reached. Little spoke again.
"Did anybody try to smuggle something and fail?"