"What t' hell do you want, Butch?"
"Mr. Mitchell, my shoes are on th' bum. I am walking on my socks."
"Where th' devil d' you think you're going, anyhow? To a ball?"
"Papa Mitchell, be good now, won't you?" the youth coaxes.
"Go an' take a—thump to yourself, will you?"
The officer walks off, heavy-browed and thoughtful, but pauses a short distance from the cell, to hear Butch mumbling discontentedly. The Block Captain retraces his steps, and, facing the boy, storms at him:
"What did you say? 'Damn the old skunk!' that's what you said, eh? You come on out of there!"
With much show of violence he inserts the key into the lock, pulls the door open with a bang, and hails a passing guard:
"Mr. Kelly, quick, take this loafer out and give 'im—er—give 'im a pair of shoes."
He starts down the range, when some one calls from an upper tier: