"I tried to salvage Goldy's liquor, and had it taken from me," answered another man. "I guess they're firmly convinced it's lethal. I wish them luck in analyzing the stuff—we never could."
"How far did you get before they took it from you?"
"They let me pick up the bottles that were lying around, and put them in the case; half a dozen of them watched me while I did that. But when I started to carry the case toward the gate—of course, that was some job, as Goldy found out—they all walked up and just took it away. They didn't get violent or anything like that."
"Then it wasn't really a case of detected smuggling; you made no effort to mask your real intentions. Is that right?"
"Yes, sir. I don't quite see how any one could hide either that case or the bottles; I was just sort of hoping against hope."
Little nodded and called for more contributions. A gunner responded.
"I found a couple of cases of grenades and stuck several into my pockets. The next thing I knew, one of the starfish was holding my arms, and another taking them out again. He handled them as though he knew what they were."
"I suppose you checked the safeties before you pocketed the bombs?"
"Of course, sir."
Little nodded wearily. "Of course. And that was enough for our admittedly astute friends. I admit it's usually a very good idea to obey regulations, but there are exceptions to every rule. I think the present circumstances constitute an exception to most of them. Any others?"