no bones about the fact that all their
permanent inhabitants were female. Then the beat swung off, past a row
of small businesses and genuine rooming houses, before turning back to
the main section.

They began in the poorer section. It wasn't the day to collect the
"tips" for good service, which had been an honest attempt to promote
good police service before it became a racket. But they were met
everywhere by sullen faces. Izzy explained it. The city had passed a new
poll tax--to pay for election booths, supposedly--and had made the
police collect it. Murdoch must have disregarded the order, but the rest
of the force had been busy helping the administration.

But once they hit the main stem, things were mere routine. The gambling
joints took it for granted that beat cops had to be paid, and considered
it part of their operating expense. The only problem was that Fats'
Place was the first one on the list. Gordon didn't expect to be too
welcome there.

There was no sign of the thug, but Fats came out of his back office just
as Gordon reached the little bar. He came over, nodded, picked up a cup
and dice and began shaking them.

"High man for sixty," he said automatically, and expertly rolled
bull's-eyes for a two. "Izzy said you'd be around. Sorry my man drew
that _knife_ on you the last time, Corporal."

Gordon rolled an eight, pocketed the bills, and shrugged. "Accidents
will happen, Fats."

"Yeah." The other picked up the dice and began rolling sevens absently.
"How come you're walking beat, anyhow? With what you pulled here, you
should have bought a captaincy."

Gordon told him briefly. The man chuckled grimly. "Well, that's Mars,"
he said, and turned back to his private quarters.

Mostly, it was routine work. They came on a drunk later, collapsed in an
alley. But the muggers had apparently given up before Izzy and Gordon
arrived, since the man had his wallet clutched in his hand. Gordon
reached for it, twisting his lips.

Izzy stopped him. "It ain't honest, gov'nor. If the gees in the wagon
clean him, or the desk man gets it, that's their business. But I'm going
to run a straight beat, or else!"

That was followed by a call to remove a berserk spaceman from one of the
so-called rooming houses. Gordon noticed that workmen were busy setting
up a heavy wooden gate in front of the entrance to the place. There were
a lot of such preparations going on for the forthcoming elections.

Then the shift was over