s of Judge
Lindsey call his practice of trusting young “ criminals” to go alone to Golden. Other triumphs of his seem to me to be greater, but certainly the sight of “a convict,” and a boy convict at that, receiving his commitment papers from the Judge and passing through the streets, taking train and changing cars to get to Golden, and there delivering himself up — this is indeed a spectacle to see. And it is a common spec- tacle in Denver. Judge Lindsey hardly ever sends an officer with a boy now, and out of the hundreds he has trusted, only three have failed him. One of these I saw. He was “Eddie,” the boy I told about in the first part of this story, who was hysterical, and the Judge had doubts about him; indeed, he put him privately in charge of a “tough kid” who was going also to the school, and it was the tough kid who reported by tele- phone from the station where they changed cars, that “Eddie can’t seem to make it, Judge. He don’t say he won’t, but he cries, and I guess he ain’t strong enough.”
Another of the three failures was a boy who was started twice, and when the Judge reproached him for his weakness, suggested a way to beat himself. “Try me by another road, Judge,” he said. “This road goes right by my old stamping ground, and when I see th’ gang playin’
