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cracks.
    "Murrain take you, I'm a Dog and I'm dragging you clean to Outwalls!" I cried at last. Clad only in my nightdress, I grabbed my baton and undid my bolts, ready to break someone's nob. "If y' think this be a joke, ye'll chuckle through gaps – " I yanked the door open. There stood Tunstall, looking fresh and cheerful, wearing a cityman's clothes instead of uniform.
    "Cooper," he said, shaking his head in a woeful sort of way. "Talking cant like a Lower City gixie. And you such a careful-bred thing. I take no pity on you. I left my beautiful lady all sweet in bed so we could go and roust Mistress Tansy's baker."
    I scowled at him. I wished I could do more than scowl, but I like him too much. "When was this decided?"
    "Last night, over supper. Goodwin tossed me for it, and I lost." He shrugged, a true eastern hillman. The gods had decided on the toss of a coin, and that was that.
    "But I'll miss breakfast with my friends," I complained.
    "So you will," he said. "I am missing breakfast with my lady. Is Pounce around?"
    Pounce trotted through the door between my feet, meowing a greeting.
    "We'll wait downstairs," Tunstall said.
    Pounce led him away while I closed the door. I dressed in cityfolk clothes, long blue tunic over undyed breeches, half mot, half cove. The garments stuck to my skin before I even put my boots on. I did my hair in my long braid but left out the spiked strap so I might pin it up in a maidenly coil. And I fetched my basket. Tunstall didn't think to bring one. He was a bachelor. He took his meals at eating houses and seldom shopped for food. He wouldn't know folk no more went to the baker without a basket or bag than they went naked. There was no use telling the world we had Dog business there.
    Tansy's baker, Garnett, had his shop on Stuvek Street. Pounce curled up outside the door while we went inside and looked around. It was a prosperous-looking shop. Apprentices worked his counters, whilst Garnett supervised the money box. There were the guards on each side of him, just as Tansy had said. They were a pair of rushers who had seen more shining days, but doubtless they were good enough for a baker.
    The moment he saw us, Garnett was on his feet. Mayhap we still looked like Dogs, in or out of uniform. "What may I do for you?" he asked, polite enough. Then he got a good look at Tunstall and knew him.
    Tunstall smiled. "We'd like a word, Garnett. No trouble, just a word, mayhap three."
    The baker looked at me and sighed. "Your hair's too long and it ain't black, so you ain't Goodwin. You must be Cooper. Bad luck either way."
    I kept silent. I'm not chatty with strangers when I'm not dressed as a Dog.
    Garnett called for one of the counter folk to take the cash box and ordered the guards to stay with it. Then he led us into the back room. It was small and godless hot, a place for light bookkeeping only. A feeble breeze came through the slats in the shutter. Garnett took the comfortable chair behind the desk. Tunstall had a chair. I had to lean against the wall.
    Garnett looked up at me, then at Tunstall. "What brings two Evening Watch Dogs to my place so early of their day? I doubt it's for the baking, for all you carry a basket."
    "A Birdie told us you've hired guards because folk are slipping you coles," Tunstall said agreeably. "Now we've seen the guards for our own eyes, right, Cooper? And we're curious. Jane Street has had no report from you. When did you find you were receiving coles?"
    Garnett drooped in his chair. "Me and my wife check the coin. We do it every week, afore we sort out taxes and pay and expenses and the like. Three weeks runnin' we found a few coles in the week's takings. We used to check one in ten. That first bad week it were fifteen coles in all, so we decided to check three in ten. The next week we found twenty-seven. Then we checked all our coin, startin' two weeks back. Last week it were fifty-five, more'n half the week's gain. That's when I hired the guards, to keep folk