It was ludicrous as well to observe the other two now exhuming their hoards quite openly from underneath their own tiles, and to put them away, without first counting them over, in their knapsacks. For they had known for long that each was aware of the secret of the others, and according to the old-fashioned honorable traditions of their guild not one of them suspected the others of theft. Each of them, in fact, was fully convinced that they would not be robbed. For it is an iron-clad custom among traveling journeymen, soldiers, and similar folk that nothing must be locked up and that there must be no suspicion of foul play. In this way they at last were ready to start. The master paid each his wages, and handed them back their service booklets, wherein on the part of the town authorities and of the master himself there were inscribed the most satisfactory certificates as to good behavior and steadiness of conduct. A minute later they stood, in a state of soft melancholy, before the house door of Zues Buenzlin, each dressed in a long brown coat, with a duster above that, and their hats, albeit by no means new or fashionable, covered with a tight casing of oil cloth. Each carried a tiny van strapped to his knapsack to enable him, as soon as long-distance walking should start, to pull his heavy baggage with greater ease. The small wheels belonging to this contraption stood up high above their shoulders. Jobst was assisted in walking by a decent bamboo cane, Fridolin by a staff of ash painted all over with red and black stripes, and Dietrich by a fantastic baton around which were curling carved branches. But he was almost ashamed of this absurd and bragging thing, since it dated from the first days of his pilgrimage, a time when he had not yet attained to the sober view of life as since. Many neighbors and their children lined the way and wished these three serious-minded men godspeed.