area. The Cove was housed on the ground floor of a fourstory building which had once been a newspaper building. The upper floors were leased to a nearby surplus store which used them for storage space.

For years The Cove had enjoyed the dubious reputation of being "the queerest place in town," a reputation which now placed it under the increasing scrutiny of the police force. For in additon to the beatnik hangout in the back, The Cove also housed a gay bar upstairs, between the first and second floors, on a concealed mezzanine. To the casual observer viewing the place from across the street, the gay portion of the premises was not visible, for there were no windows in "The Attic," as the place was called. On the inside, the only clue that anything existed between the first and second floors was a rickety staircase resembling the ones found in Western movies.

"Straight" people were not welcome upstairs, and the sight of some one being tossed down the stairs in horse-opera fashion attracted little notice from the customers in the back room. 3

III

Tom Porter had been patrolling the Waterfront Beat for more than a month when the chief again called him into his office.

"Porter, the vice squad chief has decided to begin a series of raids on the 'queer joints' along the front, and the first target is to be The Attic on First and Journal. It's the best-known place of its kind in town, and with it out of operation, it'll be easier to crack down on the lesser-known spots. We're to follow the plainclothesmen and stand by in case there is any trouble. The time of the raid will occur sometime on Saturday night, November 26. You're to await instructions from the radio in your squad cars. You will be notified of the time of the raid thirty minutes in advance."

Saturday night came and went, with all of its usual gaiety, but there was no vice raid at The Attic. Instead, a very strange thing happened. When Patrolman

6