"I can't see any state park near here, Dave, how 'bout if I go ask a cop where we can stay?"
He rode his bicycle over to the county sheriff's office thinking that they would be friendly and help out.
"Where'ya from, boy?"
"Minnesota."
"How didya git down hereya?"
"Rode our bikes."
"Whooo's with ya, boy?"
"My brother. All we want a know is where to camp tonight. We won't make it any farther today."
"This is a terrible straaange boy, you tellin' me you drove bicycles all the way??
"Well, our dad gave a ride part-ways."
"North Star to Lone Star," the sheriff gasped astonished, "I s'pose you are plann' in on goin' all the way to Tex-xas, too?
"We are gonna hafta lockya boys up because of our vagrancy code--yawl under eighteen?"
This small-town-southern-bred sheriff threw the juveniles in a cell and the dog in a closet after fetching the other one.
"Dave, what are we gonna do? I think this's illegal."
"Let's make as much noise as we can, maybe they will come in and listen 'ta us!"
They jumped up and down on the bed in this ten-by-ten cubicle and kicked the cell door making as much noise as possible. The dog was getting in the act too; so loud no one could brook it. In the meantime, the bed broke and it didn't look like they got any attention yelling so frenzied.
"They aren't attending--what can we do?"
They began yelling in unison one phrase: "We want our rights!"
They had not been given their rights before when thrown into jail, but both knew from Dragnet that this was illegal.
"OK, yawl have dunit now. Yer gettin' solitary confinement. If ya make any mo' noise ya will be sorry."
They thought they were in some kind of limbo because this sheriff thought he could get away with anything. Then he sent for the dog-catcher to take care of the noisome dog permanently.
"I'll kill'em if they hurt Nikki."
They were also worried about the bikes which were unlocked. They knew all they had to do was call their grandpa to prove they weren't runaways. They thought solitary confinement was rough, but it was better that they are separated the way they incited each other so easily. Neither cell had blankets and cushions and being made for four people they were cold trying on concrete.
Finally, with the change of shift, a new sheriff decided to find out something for himself.
"Doya want to call your mother, son?" the deputy politely asked.
He couldn't believe it; having fallen asleep it was unreal.
"We hafta call our grandfather first--don't know our mother's number."
"I'm not sure I believe you, son. But we'll give it a while."
The deputy called their grandpa and explained the predicament so that he would divulge her unlisted phone number. Having talked to her they agreed to let the mother's step-father take responsibility if he was willing.
When "Lloyd" arrived, as the boys called him, it was a natural for him to "take to liking" the paternalistic law officer; seeing the "Mayor Daley was here!" plaque he drank his usual demitasse and refilled his thermos. The "kaffeeklatch"led to the boys' good fortune: "I s'pose I won't really press any charges for the busted bed which, according to the books, is a $100 fine--seeking you are taking custody; sir!"
The closer-than-ever brother-ship was kindled by this reprehensible report; they shared the embarrassment but let this one go by; for 300 miles there were no lectures, and "thank goodness" on a fourth-of-July visit.
He rode his bicycle over to the county sheriff's office thinking that they would be friendly and help out.
"Where'ya from, boy?"
"Minnesota."
"How didya git down hereya?"
"Rode our bikes."
"Whooo's with ya, boy?"
"My brother. All we want a know is where to camp tonight. We won't make it any farther today."
"This is a terrible straaange boy, you tellin' me you drove bicycles all the way??
"Well, our dad gave a ride part-ways."
"North Star to Lone Star," the sheriff gasped astonished, "I s'pose you are plann' in on goin' all the way to Tex-xas, too?
"We are gonna hafta lockya boys up because of our vagrancy code--yawl under eighteen?"
This small-town-southern-bred sheriff threw the juveniles in a cell and the dog in a closet after fetching the other one.
"Dave, what are we gonna do? I think this's illegal."
"Let's make as much noise as we can, maybe they will come in and listen 'ta us!"
They jumped up and down on the bed in this ten-by-ten cubicle and kicked the cell door making as much noise as possible. The dog was getting in the act too; so loud no one could brook it. In the meantime, the bed broke and it didn't look like they got any attention yelling so frenzied.
"They aren't attending--what can we do?"
They began yelling in unison one phrase: "We want our rights!"
They had not been given their rights before when thrown into jail, but both knew from Dragnet that this was illegal.
"OK, yawl have dunit now. Yer gettin' solitary confinement. If ya make any mo' noise ya will be sorry."
They thought they were in some kind of limbo because this sheriff thought he could get away with anything. Then he sent for the dog-catcher to take care of the noisome dog permanently.
"I'll kill'em if they hurt Nikki."
They were also worried about the bikes which were unlocked. They knew all they had to do was call their grandpa to prove they weren't runaways. They thought solitary confinement was rough, but it was better that they are separated the way they incited each other so easily. Neither cell had blankets and cushions and being made for four people they were cold trying on concrete.
Finally, with the change of shift, a new sheriff decided to find out something for himself.
"Doya want to call your mother, son?" the deputy politely asked.
He couldn't believe it; having fallen asleep it was unreal.
"We hafta call our grandfather first--don't know our mother's number."
"I'm not sure I believe you, son. But we'll give it a while."
The deputy called their grandpa and explained the predicament so that he would divulge her unlisted phone number. Having talked to her they agreed to let the mother's step-father take responsibility if he was willing.
When "Lloyd" arrived, as the boys called him, it was a natural for him to "take to liking" the paternalistic law officer; seeing the "Mayor Daley was here!" plaque he drank his usual demitasse and refilled his thermos. The "kaffeeklatch"led to the boys' good fortune: "I s'pose I won't really press any charges for the busted bed which, according to the books, is a $100 fine--seeking you are taking custody; sir!"
The closer-than-ever brother-ship was kindled by this reprehensible report; they shared the embarrassment but let this one go by; for 300 miles there were no lectures, and "thank goodness" on a fourth-of-July visit.
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