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I went in to see him. His office was full of people, but he said, “Go ahead. What do you want? What's troubling you?”

I said that somebody I knew was in trouble.

“Well, I'm always glad to help anybody in trouble. Do they live in this district?”

I said, “Yes.”

“Do you live in the district?”

I said, “Yes, I live in the district.” I gave him the street address. I didn't say Hartley House, as I thought that would throw him off.

Anyhow he was just wonderful. He said with his Irish brogue, “What's the boy's name?” He believed me. “Do you know where he is?” I knew where he was - in the Tombs. “What did he do?”

I said what he had done and I said, “I know that's awfully bad, but he is the sole support of his mother.”

“Well,” he said, “I'll see what I can do. I think I can fix it up. You come around tomorrow afternoon.”

I came around tomorrow afternoon and he fixed it up all right. The boy was getting out the next morning at six o'clock. I'm sure it was irregular. I don't know what he did or how he did it, but I was too innocent to know. I didn't know much about how politics was done anyhow, but