"Cell num-ber ee-e-lev-ven! To court! Right a-way!"
A prisoner hurriedly passes my door. His step is nervous, in his look expectant fear.
"Hurry, there! To court!"
"Good luck, Jimmie."
The man flushes and averts his face, as he passes a group of visitors clustered about an overseer.
"Who is that, Officer?" One of the ladies advances, lorgnette in hand, and stares boldly at the prisoner. Suddenly she shrinks back. A man is being led past by the guards. His face is bleeding from a deep gash, his head swathed in bandages. The officers thrust him violently into a cell. He falls heavily against the bed. "Oh, don't! For Jesus' sake, don't!" The shutting of the heavy door drowns his cries.
The visitors crowd about the cell.
"What did he do? He can't come out now, Officer?"
"No, ma'am. He's safe."
The lady's laugh rings clear and silvery. She steps closer to the bars, eagerly peering into the darkness. A smile of exciting security plays about her mouth.