But Mickey found them. Just at two there was
a murmur outside. It grew into a hubbub
which, as it came down the hall, developed into
an alarm. The Judge’s guests were startled,
and even the Judge wasn’t sure. It sounded like
a mob, and up the stairs it rattled, then down the
upper hall toward his chamber. As it approached,
the Judge knew. He flung open the doors, and
there were thirty or forty boys, with Mickey
radiant at their head.
“Here’s the kids, Judge. Got more’n I thought I would.”
“Bully for you, Mickey!” said the Judge. “You’ve saved the day.”
“I told ye I’d stay wit’ ye, Judge.”
The Judge took the “mob” into a side room. There he told them what was up. They were to tell the truth about the jails. “The police say you have lied to me,” he said. £ If you have, I ask you now to tell the truth. But tell it. Tell it as you tell one another. Tell it in your own words. They may be bad words, but these gentlemen want to know the truth. So tell them all. Tell them what you see — the dirty things; tell them what the older prisoners say, and what they do to you.”
He put Mickey in charge. “Pick out your best witnesses, Mickey,” he instructed him.
