I opened the chest where the drum had leaned and there must’ve been ten bullet molds inside. I pulled out two, slow so they wouldn’t clink, and stuck them in my basket under the rags. Then I swept the air clean of cobwebs and wiped down the gun racks with oil. When I had the place good as Hilde would’ve done it, I gathered my stuff and tapped on the door. “Don’t forget the latrine,” the guard at the door said, thumbing toward the rear of the Arsenal. I headed back there, but I walked right past it and kept going.
