 Why did the teenagers in the schoolyard all throw their weapons away at the same time?
The three bank robbers looked like triplets. The third one, who carried a black satchel like a doctor's bag, walked quickly around behind the teller's counter and started filling it with money. The man who had first spoken herded the tellers, Mr. Featherhall and the customers all over against the back wall, while the second man stayed next to Mr. Anderson and the door. She fell unconscious to the floor, and all three of them ran out of the bank to the car out front, in which sat a very nervous-looking fourth man, gunning the engine. Two police cars came driving down the block and a half from the precinct house to the bank, and the car with the four robbers in it lurched away from the curb and drove straight down the street toward the police station. The police cars and the getaway car passed one another, with everybody shooting like the ships in pirate movies. There was so much confusion that it looked as though the bank robbers were going to get away after all. Then, after the getaway car had gone more than two blocks, it suddenly started jouncing around. "If I'm making just a quick stop—I never spend more than five minutes with any one customer—I always leave the keys in the car. "It was four professional criminals, I thought you knew that. It was in the crank letter's most obvious form; that is, the address had been clipped, a letter or a word at a time, from a newspaper and glued to the envelope. The bank robbery occurred in late June. It happened in Canarsie, a section in southeast Brooklyn near Jamaica Bay. This particular area of Canarsie was a residential neighborhood, composed of one and two family houses. He then allegedly poked her in the eye, and locked her out of the bedroom. Mrs. Stodbetter arrived at the house at nine o'clock, and spent some time tapping at the still-locked bedroom door, apparently requesting Mr. Higgins to unlock the door and "stop acting like a child." At about ten-fifteen, neighbors heard shots from the Higgins residence, a two-story one-family pink stucco affair in the middle of a block of similar homes. Mr. Higgins, it was learned later, had suddenly erupted from his bedroom, brandishing a .30-.30 hunting rifle and, being annoyed at the shrieks of his wife and sister, had fired seven shells at them, killing his wife on the spot and wounding his sister in the hand and shoulder.
 The weapons became too cold to touch.
 The police were coming and they needed to get the weapons out of their possession.  They didn't want the approaching children to see them holding weapons.  Judy was a suitable lookout and kept them distracted by yelling, "Fuzz!"  The weapons became too cold to touch.