“Why don’t you go out and see George and his outfit? There’s an empty bunk in their cell.”

We hunted up “George and his outfit.” They knew all about me apparently, for George said, “Sure, put him in with us. If you don’t they’ll only stick some gay cat in there and we’d have to throw him out in the middle of the night.”

“What have they got on you, kid?” asked George.

I sat down with them all and went over the whole thing from the shooting of Smiler to my arrival at the prison.

“And you’ve made no statement yet?”

“No.”

“Not even to the shyster?” George inquired.

“Not even to the shyster,” I replied.

George turned to the others. “He’ll beat that case.”