"He should know who he has under the hood," Thornberry said
thoughtfully, after Bennington had silenced the intercom, "especially
since the group includes a man like Dalton--"
"We have something more important to discuss," Bennington cut in,
dismissing the subject. "Last night I inspected the prison compound."
He described what he had found, then leaned back to hear Thornberry's
reaction.
"That's not in the least what I told him he could do," the
psychologist said.
"_What! This is your idea?_"
Thornberry was equally astounded at Bennington's reaction. "Yes, of
course. As soon as I took over as Acting Warden, I told Slater that
social visits between the prisoners were entirely permissible until
Lights Out. But this--"
The psychologist shook his head, then appeared to reconsider and his
face brightened. "But it's a step in the right direction. Naturally, I
prefer the Mexican system where the wife is permitted regular, very
private, visits to her husband--"
"Let me get this straight," Bennington felt like a man lost in a maze.
"You told the Chief Guard that the prisoners could visit each other--"
"No, not all of them," Thornberry interrupted. "I never meant that
some of the problem cases, like a few of those in Number Three,
should have complete social relationships."
"Just exactly what were you thinking of when you gave that order?"
"Thinking of? Why, sir, I was thinking of our poor patients here.
Society has ordered them confined, yes, but need we necessarily
deprive them of _all_ human rights?"
Thornberry seemed ready to orate for an hour, but Bennington stopped
him with a gesture. "All right, I've handled POW camps, maybe in one
way I can see your point. But we can take up the philosophy of this
later.
"Right now, this is the essential fact, that Slater has taken your
order and twisted it into a racket.
"So let's talk to Slater."