ut the law--Dave, you know there's a law. They _have_ to hire us, if
we apply first, and have the necessary qualifications."

The big man shrugged, uneasily. "Sure, there's a law, but who's going
to enforce it?"

Tam looked at him, a desperate tightness in his throat. "_You_ could
enforce it. You could if you wanted to."

* * * * *

The big man stared at him for a moment, then dropped his eyes, looked
down at the desk. Somehow this big body seemed smaller, less
impressive. "I can't do it, Tam. I just can't."

"They'd have to listen to you!" Tam's face was eager. "You've got
enough power to put it across--the court would _have_ to stick to the
law--"

"I can't do it." Dave drew nervously on his cigar, and the light in
his eyes seemed duller, now. "If it were just me, I wouldn't hesitate
a minute. But I've got a wife, a family. I can't jeopardize them--"

"Dave, you know it would be the right thing."

"Oh, the right thing be damned! I can't go out on a limb, I tell you.
There's nothing I can do. I can let you have money, Tam, as much as
you need--I could help you set up in business, maybe, or anything--but
I can't stick my neck out like that."

Tam sat stiffly, coldness seeping down into his legs. Deep in his
heart he had known that this was what he had dreaded, not the fear of
rebuff, not the fear of being snubbed, unrecognized, turned out. That
would have been nothing, compared to this change in the honest,
forthright, fearless Dave Hawke he had once known. "What's happened,
Dave? Back in the old days you would have leaped at such a chance. I
would have--the shoe was on the other foot then. We talked, Dave,
don't you remember how we talked? We were friends, you can't forget
that. I _know_ you, I _know_ what you believe, what you think. How can
you let yourself down?"

Dave Hawke's eyes avoided Tam's. "Times have changed. Those were the
good old days, back when everybody was happy, almost. Everybody but me
and a few others--at least, it looked that way to you. But those days
are gone. They'll never come back. This is a reaction period, and the
reaction is bitter. There isn't any place for fighters now, the world
is just the way people want it, and nobody can change it. What do you
expect me to do?" He stopped, his heavy face contorted, a line of
perspiration on his forehead. "I hate it," he said finally, "but my
hands are tied. I can't do anything. That's the way things are--"