"Yes?" he answered.
"I'm Detective Richards," the woman remarked, coming into view as the cell was opened. "Let's go down the hall and have a talk."
"You'll probably do most of the talking!" Samuel remarked, "But what choice have I got?"
"You can wait for an attorney," the detective answered.
Samuel shook his head. When they were alone the detective said "Look, Sam, we know you're not dealing, though you had a considerable amount of substance in your possession. We don't care about you, other than to try to help you. What we want are the dealers, the animals that are taking advantage of you kids, convincing them this garbage is safe, getting them using it then getting them on stronger stuff, more expensive stuff. We're DEFINITELY not going to let you walk away. But a little cooperation should make a judge look awfully favorable on a lienient sentence."
"Yeah!" Samuel answered, "But I'd have to rat on my friends to get it, sell out those I gave my word to, that I assured I would never betray. Look, detective, I know you mean well, I know you've been filled full of the official crap that marijuana is dangerous, that it destroys your health, and all that happy rot, but really, I know better. It's just a harmless herb that makes people relax a little, and your persecution of people that make it available to those that want it is the real crime. I'm not going to sell out my friends. I knew the chance I was taking bringing my stash to school. So I got caught, first time offender, minimum two year sentence, probably most of that's suspended, and replaced with probabion. Fortunately this isn't a Spiritist county. They don't throw addicts in jail here, and throw away the key. There's no sense in going around and around. I'm not going to tell you who I bought from, that's positive and absolute! And, no offense, you seem like a nice person, it's nothing personal."
The detective sat back and nodded. "You damned kids know the law better than we do!" she sighed. "You've probably got it damned near right. Well, your parents are here. I'll go have a word with them, get you released into their custody. I don't think there's any possibility you're going to take flight on us. From there on it will just be a matter of waiting for a trial."
Samuel sat back to wait. A few minutes later the door opened. His father came in, the detective with him.
"Samuel," his father snapped, "the detective tells me you refuse to inform her who sold you the poison you had in your possession. I order you to do so, now!"
"I'm sorry, father," Samuel answered. "I can't do that, I gave my word."
"You gave your word to animals," his father snapped, "trash, those who were using your weaknesses to fulfill their own greed. I will say this once and only once. You will tell the detective who sold you that poison. If you do not tell her here and now, you are no longer my son! I will disinherit you!"
"OH, come on!" Samuel cried. "Father, you used to be a rational man! But now you've been listening to the ravings of an insane old lunatic that thinks he's an extra terrestrial from the stars. I'm your SON, I'm you're flesh and blood. I'm more important than the ravings of some sick old pervert. I'm NOT going to betray my friends because some old fool thinks something perfectly safe is dreadful and harmful. Let's have a little rationality here!"
Samuel's father struggled to control his rage. "Some day," he snapped, "you will regret those words, young man! Some day you will know how foolish and ignorant they are! But I will not be there when you do. Detective, please have this young man detained. A representative of the Church will be along to gather him, just as soon as I can arrange it."
"As long as he's suitably housed," the detective answered.
Samuel's father turned and bolted from the room. The detective remained a moment. "You're making a big mistake," she warned. "Your father seems like a good man. Won't you reconsider? Are those you're protecting really worth your family?"
"If he'd put me out for this," Samuel answered, "I don't want to be part of his family!"
The detective shook her head. Samuel was returned to the holding cell. A couple of hours later a man approached.
"Good afternoon," he began, "I'm Richard Dunworth with The Civil Liberties Union. One of our contacts here advised me of your situation. I'd like permission to represent you."
Samuel was about to answer when another voice spoke up.

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