Legions of men and a scattering of women leaned against lobby walls, squatted in corners and dozed in banks of chairs outside Allegheny County Family Court yesterday, waiting up to six hours to qualify before the close of a five-day amnesty period for deadbeat parents.

At the start of amnesty, more than 6,700 fathers and mothers had warrants for missing court dates. By 3:15 p.m. yesterday, bleary-eyed court employees had collected $118,790 in arrears from 750 parents. One father paid $12,000 Tuesday; another shaped his fingers into a zero yesterday and said that was how much he intended to pay.

More than half the parents who reported to court did so in the final hours of the last day. A total of 502 people showed up between 8 a.m. and 2 p.m.

The prize was freedom, said Patrick W. Quinn, administrator of Family Division, who authorized three intake workers, stationed behind florescent pink "Warrant Amnesty Check In" signs, to issue rain checks for Monday to dozens who walked in after the deadline.

Mr. Quinn said that on Monday he planned to evaluate parents with outstanding warrants and without rain check passes on a case-by-case basis. After that, they would be subject to arrest.

Plenty of amnesty seekers admitted that they were afraid the sheriff's deputies might snap handcuffs on them for showing up belatedly.

"Am I late? Am I too late?" asked Michael Noftz, 28, of Baldwin Borough, who was clutching a wad of bills in his hand. He had made it in time. He was still relieved when he saw the crowd upstairs.

"This is a get-out-of-jail-free card," he said, "I'll stand here all day."

He said he owed more than $20,000 in arrears for his 9-year-old daughter and planned to pay $150 of his $215 monthly payment.

Steve Kremer, 36, of Bloomfield, who had separate cases for three children by two mothers, said he wouldn't mind paying child support to the mother of his 15- and 14-year-old girls if she would "let me see my kids."

He said after a 6-year stint in prison, he never could land a good enough job to make his payments. He's been unemployed and taking off-the-books jobs for cash ever since.

He gestured with a zero that he planned to pay nothing, but he expected to walk out of the former jail yesterday with a fresh start.

"I can get a job and not worry about them coming down and arresting me," he said.

Despite the overflowing crowd, no one had picked a fight or raised a voice all day, officials said.

Late in the day, a court employee weaved through the masses announcing an evacuation drill was scheduled to go off in 10 minutes, "but don't leave."

A rumor began spreading on an elevator that workers misplaced page four of the wait list, including people who arrived between 9:30 and 9:45 a.m.

John King, 42, of Braddock, said he'd been "in the system for 24 years" and in the waiting room for nearly six hours.

"The lesson is don't get no one pregnant. And if you have sex, wear a condom," he said. Several men around him nodded and laughed.

Mr. Quinn said he never expected such a multitude on the last day. He was open to suggestions on how to run the program differently in the future but called the amnesty an overwhelming success. "A whole lot of people are going to have a lot brighter holidays," he said.