in the second degree. The maximum penalty for that charge is to be incarcerated for forty-eight months and you are hereby sentenced to the maximum allowed by law. Sheriff, take charge of the prisoner. This court is adjourned.”
December 16
Jenny McCoy stood at the window of the private reception room of the Colorado Social Club and looked outside. It was cold and a light dusting of snow was beginning to fall. She watched as a rider passed by, the collar of his coat turned up and his hat pulled down. Behind her a cheery fire snapped and popped in the fireplace.
Her beauty, bearing, and education had quickly made her a favorite of the more affluent “gentlemen” who visited the club.
One such visitor was The Honorable Lorenzo Crounse, Governor of Nebraska. He stepped up to the window beside Jenny and put his arm around her. “Doesn’t it make you feel good to be all warm and cozy inside, when it is so cold outside?”
“It certainly does,” Jenny answered with a smile as she casually turned out of his arm and walked over to the table where sat a carafe of coffee. “And a good hot cup of coffee makes it even better. May I pour you a cup?”
Governor Crounse chuckled. “Indeed you may, my dear.” He watched her as she poured. “I must say, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.”
Jenny brought the cup of coffee to the governor and handed it to him with a smile. “My goodness, Governor, if you flatter everyone that way, it’s no wonder you got elected.”
“Oh, but I mean it, my dear. I mean every word. You are—”
The door to the private reception room was suddenly thrown open, interrupting the governor’s statement. Four men rushed inside, three had pistols in their hands, and the fourth was carrying a camera.
“Here, what is the meaning of this?” the governor asked angrily. “Do you know who I am?”
“Oh, yes, Governor, we know exactly who you are. Now suppose you just go over there, have a seat on the sofa, and don’t make any trouble.”
“Who are you? What is all this about?”
“If both of you do exactly what we say, no one will be hurt. We just want a picture, that’s all.”
“A picture?” the governor asked, confused by the odd request.
“A picture, yes. Miss,” the armed spokesman said to Jenny. “I want you to take off all your clothes and go sit with the governor. We want a picture of you, naked, beside him.”
“No! That will ruin me!” the governor said.
“I will do no such thing,” Jenny replied indignantly.
“Oh, you will be photographed naked with the governor,” the spokesman said. “Whether you are dead or alive when we take the picture makes no difference to us. The effect will be the same. You can take your clothes off yourself, or I’ll shoot you and we’ll strip your dead body.”
“You had better do what they say, Jenny,” the governor said. “I have a feeling these men have been sent by my political enemies, and I’ve no doubt but that they will do just as they say.”
“Well now, Governor, you are smarter than I thought you were.” The armed intruder grinned.
Frightened, Jenny removed her clothes, then sat on the sofa beside the governor. The photographer took a picture, and a moment later, two of the sheriff’s deputies were brought into the room. Seeing Jenny nude, with the governor, was all they needed to bring a charge of prostitution against her.
Luke was lying on his bunk with his hands laced behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, when Proxmire and another deputy came into the cell area with a young woman.
Proxmire opened the door to the cell next to Luke. “All right, Miss, in there.”
Luke sat up with a start. “Wait a minute! What are you doing? You can’t put a lady in this cell.”
“She ain’t no lady, she’s a whore,” the deputy with Proxmire growled.
“She is a female. And you can’t put women in jail with men. They have to have their own facilities. That is the
December 16
Jenny McCoy stood at the window of the private reception room of the Colorado Social Club and looked outside. It was cold and a light dusting of snow was beginning to fall. She watched as a rider passed by, the collar of his coat turned up and his hat pulled down. Behind her a cheery fire snapped and popped in the fireplace.
Her beauty, bearing, and education had quickly made her a favorite of the more affluent “gentlemen” who visited the club.
One such visitor was The Honorable Lorenzo Crounse, Governor of Nebraska. He stepped up to the window beside Jenny and put his arm around her. “Doesn’t it make you feel good to be all warm and cozy inside, when it is so cold outside?”
“It certainly does,” Jenny answered with a smile as she casually turned out of his arm and walked over to the table where sat a carafe of coffee. “And a good hot cup of coffee makes it even better. May I pour you a cup?”
Governor Crounse chuckled. “Indeed you may, my dear.” He watched her as she poured. “I must say, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.”
Jenny brought the cup of coffee to the governor and handed it to him with a smile. “My goodness, Governor, if you flatter everyone that way, it’s no wonder you got elected.”
“Oh, but I mean it, my dear. I mean every word. You are—”
The door to the private reception room was suddenly thrown open, interrupting the governor’s statement. Four men rushed inside, three had pistols in their hands, and the fourth was carrying a camera.
“Here, what is the meaning of this?” the governor asked angrily. “Do you know who I am?”
“Oh, yes, Governor, we know exactly who you are. Now suppose you just go over there, have a seat on the sofa, and don’t make any trouble.”
“Who are you? What is all this about?”
“If both of you do exactly what we say, no one will be hurt. We just want a picture, that’s all.”
“A picture?” the governor asked, confused by the odd request.
“A picture, yes. Miss,” the armed spokesman said to Jenny. “I want you to take off all your clothes and go sit with the governor. We want a picture of you, naked, beside him.”
“No! That will ruin me!” the governor said.
“I will do no such thing,” Jenny replied indignantly.
“Oh, you will be photographed naked with the governor,” the spokesman said. “Whether you are dead or alive when we take the picture makes no difference to us. The effect will be the same. You can take your clothes off yourself, or I’ll shoot you and we’ll strip your dead body.”
“You had better do what they say, Jenny,” the governor said. “I have a feeling these men have been sent by my political enemies, and I’ve no doubt but that they will do just as they say.”
“Well now, Governor, you are smarter than I thought you were.” The armed intruder grinned.
Frightened, Jenny removed her clothes, then sat on the sofa beside the governor. The photographer took a picture, and a moment later, two of the sheriff’s deputies were brought into the room. Seeing Jenny nude, with the governor, was all they needed to bring a charge of prostitution against her.
Luke was lying on his bunk with his hands laced behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, when Proxmire and another deputy came into the cell area with a young woman.
Proxmire opened the door to the cell next to Luke. “All right, Miss, in there.”
Luke sat up with a start. “Wait a minute! What are you doing? You can’t put a lady in this cell.”
“She ain’t no lady, she’s a whore,” the deputy with Proxmire growled.
“She is a female. And you can’t put women in jail with men. They have to have their own facilities. That is the
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