"If the judge says maximum security, they go on the third, everybody else on the second unless we have an overflow. Have a boy upstairs now."
My heart sank.
"A real bad actor. Killed a man."
Well, that wasn't Jimmy. Not with a three-month sentence.
Maximum security had three sets of barred doors plus an armed guard. Sgt. Robards pointed it all out to me. "By this time next week, it will all be full in here," he said sadly. "The Governor has ordered a round-up of all political agitators. The Anti-Redemptionists be getting out of hand and he be going to cool them off. Uh, don't put that in your paper."
"Oh, I won't," I said, crossing off on my notes.
The ordinary cells on the second floor were behind no barred doors and I got a guided tour. I stared Jimmy D. right in the face, but he had the brains to keep his mouth shut.
When we had finished, I thanked Sgt. Robards enthusiastically. "It sure has been swell, sir."
"Not at all, son," he said. "I enjoyed it myself. If you have time some evening, drop by when I have the duty. My schedule bees on the bulletin board."
"Thank you, sir," I said. "Maybe I will."