BEN LINDSEY, THE JUST JUDGE
i. “the kids’ court”
IN the County Court of Denver, one night, a boy was arraigned for larceny. The hour was late; the calendar was long, and the Judge was sitting overtime. Weary of the weary work, everybody was forcing the machinery of the law to grind through at top speed the dull routine of justice. All sorts of causes went to this court, grand and petty, civil and criminal, complicated and simple. The petty larceny case was plain; it could be disposed of in no time. A theft had been committed; no doubt of that. Had the prisoner at the bar done it ? The sleepy policeman had his witness on hand, and they swore out a case. There was no doubt about it; hardly any denial. The Law prescribed precisely what was to be done to such “cases,” and the bored Judge ordered that that thing be done. That was all. In the same breath with which he pronounced sentence, the Court called for the “next case” and the shift was under way, when something happened, something out of the ordinary.
