Boys Town

could you find some way
to be sorry for that?

Dan, life and death should be left
to the Creator of life and death.

Please stay, will you?
How are you, Judge?
This is Lane Wellington. His column fought
for you. Didn't think you were guilty.

Sorry to let you down, pal.
If you'd stuck to your guns,
I'd have kept you alive for years.

I wouldn't try to be funny, if I were you.
This man wants to admit
his debt to the State.

What's that? My debt to the State?
If you'd have done this sooner,
the debt wouldn't be so big.

Is that what this is all about?
You're going to take my life,
because I owe the State something?

When I was a kid, 12 years old,
my mother died.

Did I go on the cuff to the State
for the gutters I slept in? Is that it?

That's just sniveling. The State reached
its arms out for three years...

Yeah, in the reformatory.
When I went in,
copping a loaf of bread was a job.

- When I come out, I could rob a bank!
- Holy cats!

Get this, big shots.
I'm going out that way in a few minutes.

So you're getting the lowdown.
Where was the State when a Ionely,
starving kid cried himself to sleep...

in a flophouse with a bunch of drunks,
tramps, and hoboes?

Is that when this debt started?
The only pals I had a chance at
were the kids in the alley.

I had to be tough to string along.
Just before we got out
of the State's arms...

the reformatory, we made up a gang,
six of us, and pals.

We bet our lives across the board,
and let them ride. Crooks!

Sure! Your mouths pop open at that one.
Greek to you wise guys, ain't it?
One of them turned rat for State's
evidence, and I killed him. But get this.

One friend when I'm 12 years old...
and I don't stand here like this!
Now, go on, get out of here...

you bunch of mush-brained saps! Get out!
Listen, Father. I am sorry for my mistakes.
I am sorry.