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Show page 199 The speaker picked up his t o i l e t a r t i c l e s and started out. "I saw him, a hardfaced country boy, a rube. My bunk's near a window facing the front gate. A couple of lieutenants and four or five MPs with him. They put him in the black box." Thompson l i s t e n e d , said nothing. The black box was a small enclosure in one of the barracks used for tough guys. After breakfast, several grass-cutting d e t a i l s lined up at the front gate to b e checked off, frisked and marched away in groups of six by shot gun-carrying guards. Tiger, a squat, brindle half-bulldog, the stockade mascot, went along with Thompson. During the f i r s t ten-minute break, while lounging on the grass behind the main PX, Thompson asked Jenkins the guard, "What's t h i s about a joe going to get the rope?" "If he doesn't have new evidence," Jenkins said without much i n t e r e s t ; he was glancing at WACs entering and leaving the PX. Back at the stockade at noon Thompson asked another prisoner about McFall. "He's in the l a t r i n e , " the prisoner said. "They let him out of the box." Thompson hurried to the l a t r i n e and saw McFall leaning against an upright. McFall wore new f a t i g u e s . He was t a l l , rawbony, field-weathered, even though he had been confined for several months. Kessler, a short-witted prisoner who ran the laundry, had him in conversation. "A new t r i a l , huh?" Kessler said. "What'd you get the f i r s t time?" McFall t o l d him, substantiating the rumors. Everyone started asking/JuestlonS at Once. Came the i n e v i t a b l e , "What'd you do, |