Chicago doesn't associate with any such."

They stood there leaning on the wooden railing debating their next move,
when a shot rang out. Instantly they dropped to the floor of the bridge.
A bullet whizzed over their heads, then another and another. After that
silence.

"Get you?" whispered Johnny.

"No. You?"

"Nope."

Then a long finger of light came feeling its way along the murky waters
to rest on the bridge.

With a sigh of relief, Johnny saw that it came from a police-boat down
stream. The light felt its way back and forth, back and forth across the
river, then up to the bridge and across that. It came to rest as it
glared into their eyes. It blinked one, two, three times, then went out.

"I'm glad they didn't hold it on us," breathed Johnny. "In that light
anybody that wanted to could get a bead on us."

Hearing heavy, hurrying footsteps approaching, they stood up well back
against the iron braces.

"Police!" whispered Johnny.

"You fellows shoot?" demanded one of the policemen as they came up and