IRVING GORDON, as a PRIME agent of the Office of Solar Security,
empowered to make and execute any and all directives under the powers of
this office." The printing in capitals was obviously done by hand, but
with the same catalytic "ink" as the rest of the badge. Murdoch must
have prepared it, hidden it in the notebook, then died before the secret
could be revealed.

A knock sounded from across the hall. Gordon thrust the damning badge as
deep into his pouch as he could cram it and looked out. It was Mother
Corey.

"You've got a visitor--outside," he announced. "Trench. And I don't like
the stench of that kind of cop in my place. Get him away, cobber, get
him away!"

Gordon found Trench pacing up and down in front of the house, scowling
up at it. But the ex-Marine smiled as he saw Bruce Gordon in uniform.
"Good. At least some men are loyal. Had breakfast, Gordon?"

Gordon shook his head, and realized suddenly that the decision seemed to
have been taken out of his hands. They crossed the street and went down
half a block. "All right," he said, when the coffee began waking him.
"What's the angle?"

Trench dropped the eyes that had been boring into him. "I'll have to
trust you, Gordon. I've never been sure. But either you're loyal now or
I can't depend on anyone being loyal."

During the night, it seemed, the Legal Force had been recruiting. Wayne,
Arliss, and the rest of the administration had counted on self-interest
holding most of the cops loyal to them. They'd been wrong. Legal forces
already controlled about half the city.

"So?" Gordon asked. He could have told Trench that the fund was
good-enough reason for most police deserting.

Trench put his coffee down and yelled for more. It was obvious he'd
spent the night without sleep. "So we're going to need men with guts.
Gordon, you had training under Murdoch--who knew his business. And you
aren't a coward, as most of these fat fools are. I've got a proposition,
straight from Wayne."

"I'm listening."

"Here." Trench threw across a platinum badge. "Take that--captain at
large--and conscript any of the Municipal Force you want, up to a
hundred. Pick out any place you want, train them to handle those damned
Legals the way Murdoch handled the Stonewall boys. In return, the sky's
the limit. Name your own salary, once you've done the job. And no
kickbacks, either!"

Gordon picked up the badge slowly and buckled it on, while a grim,
satisfied smile spread over