Building and about it toward the jail. In the swirl Calvin saw the big bulk of Hoberg and beside him the small figure of Joan Royle; behind, at the same distance she had maintained in the court, followed Ketlar's mother, steadily keeping step with the pace of her son.
A girl, who had posted herself near the edge of the walk, attracted Calvin's attention. He saw her light a cigarette, puff at it, and he saw her suddenly dash into the crowd and take the cigarette from her lips and thrust it between Ketlar's.
Calvin saw Ketlar halt and speak to her; undoubtedly, he thanked her, and, close together, they turned the corner and disappeared.
She was the Nesson girl, Calvin realized.
Introduction to the jail, being a formal affair, was by the ceremonial door direct from the street rather than over the Bridge of Sighs, which customarily is employed for the passage of prisoners from cell to court and to cell again during the ordeal days of a trial.
The jail, although offering its entrants no choice whatsoever except to be entertained therein, requires a most detailed history of every person received, almost as if it were extremely particular regarding those whom it admitted.
Calvin Clarke, having occasion to send for a copy of the prisoner's record card, glanced down the columns describing the height, weight, color, hair, eyes, age, condition of heart, lungs and general physical, occupational, educational and religious status of Ketlar, Frederic (no alias), and he observed that Ketlar claimed not only American citizenship by birth but by descent. Yet in the space which recorded information regarding his parents, appeared replies in respect to his mother, only.
"Mother: Anna Ketlar Folwell," read the card and her address followed. After the query, "Father," the card
