performances are rehearsed by the inspector or head of the
bureau. He is then measured, "mugged," and, if lucky, turned
loose. What does his liberty amount to or his much-vaunted
legal rights if the city is to be made safe? Yet why does not
some apostle of liberty raise his voice and cry aloud
concerning the wrong that has been done? Are not the rights
of a beggar as sacred as those of a bishop?

One of the most sacred rights guaranteed under the law is that
of not being compelled to give evidence against ourselves or
to testify to anything which might degrade or incriminate us.
Now, this is all very fine for the chap who has his lawyer at
his elbow or has had some similar previous experience. He may
wisely shut up like a clam and set at defiance the tortures of
the third degree. But how about the poor fellow arrested on
suspicion of having committed a murder, who has never heard of
the legal provision in question, or, if he has, is cajoled or
threatened into "answering one or two questions"? Few police
officers take the trouble to warn those whom they arrest that
what they say may be used against them. What is the use? Of
course, when they testify later at the trial they inevitably
begin their testimony with the stereotyped phrase, "I first
warned the defendant that anything which he said might be used
against him." If they did warn him they probably whispered it
or mumbled it so that he didn't hear what they said, or, in
any event, whether they said it or not, half a dozen of them
probably took him into a back room and, having set him with
his back against the wall, threatened and swore at him until
he told them what he knew, or thought he knew, and perhaps
confessed his crime. When the case comes to trial the police