Unvisited by Capitol sightseers, there lies beneath the marble chambers where Senators & Representatives make the nation's laws, a musty rabbit warren of empty rooms, dark corners, labyrinthine corridors. Into these one cold night last winter crept a hungry, jobless Negro named Fulton Augustus Bond, out on bail after an arrest for vagrancy. A one-time employe in the House restaurant, he found icebox foraging easy, became a trencherman. Capitol police, drawn largely from the job-hungry following of Congressmen, bothered him not at all. Many of them attend Washington's law schools. No detectives,...
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