"You don't know?" "No, sir. He was in his Hallowe'en costume." The four men looked at one another. "A costume," said the one named Roberts, the reporter. "My God, a costume." "Yes, sir," said Judy. "It was all black and gold. Tight black pants and a yellow shirt and a black cape and a funny kind of mask that covered his face, black and gold. And a kind of cap like maybe a skull cap on his head, black, only it was knit. Like the sailors wear in the Merchant Marine." "Black and gold," said Roberts. He seemed awed by something. "So you can't identify this boy at all," said Stevenson forlornly. "One of the other kids called him Eddie," she said, suddenly remembering. They spent fifteen minutes more with her, going over the same ground again and again, but she just didn't have any more to tell them. And finally they let her go. Mr. Featherhall and Miss English were distant but courteous. It was, after all, banking hours. On the other hand, these four men were police and FBI, on official business. "It has been a rather long time," Featherhall objected gently. "Well over four months." "It seemed to me," said Miss English, "that the police took the names of all the people who'd been here at the time of the robbery." "There may have been other people present," suggested Marshall, "who left before the confusion was over. There are any number of people in this world who like to avoid being involved in things like this." "I can certainly appreciate their position," said Miss English, reminiscently touching her fingertips to her head. "Miss English was very brave," Featherhall told the policemen. "She created the diversion that spoiled their plans." "Yes, we know," said Marshall. "We've heard about what you did, Miss English." "To tell you the truth," she said primly, "I was most concerned about the boy. To be exposed to something like that at his tender—" "Boy?" interrupted Stevenson rudely. "Did you say boy?" "Why, yes," said Miss English. "There was a little boy in here at the time, with his mother. Didn't you know?"