"Now this sort of thing is bad—bad!" he asserted forcibly, "Whether the motive is honest or not, it shakes the faith of the people in the Force. Even if the item is accurate and the attacks are justified, it still shakes the faith of the people. It makes our work ten times more difficult. Take some of these attacks on the conduct of our men. They make for discontent in the ranks because they are false and because the men can do nothing to protect themselves. The best regiment in the world has an occasional drunk in it. But it resents fiercely an allegation classifying every man in the regiment with that drunk. Now, that's what has been happening here lately. Not long ago, you'll remember, one of our fellows shot up the town. Well, he did wrong. He was dealt with. And, mark my words, if I don't break him, the men will. They always do. They'll drive him out of the Force. Then isn't that good enough? No; the papers must immediately raise an uproar against the man, against the Force, against me. They forget what these men do. On duty they risk death. They endure awful loneliness in places where they never see a card, a drink, a woman. If occasionally—they overstep themselves when they return—what wonder? But no consideration is given that side of the case. I'm not defending irregularities. They're wrong. But the man to deal with them is here——" he tapped his breast, "not down in the offices of the Prophet. Do you blame me if I resent these intrusions?"
Welland, without removing his cigar, said:
"Well, I can't stop it, Major! What do you want me to do?"
There was leering triumph in the assertion.
"When we first met, Mr. Molyneux, you promised me your support."
"Yes. And I said I'd go for any inefficiency. I've done it."
"Always without justification."
"That's your opinion."
"And the truth. I want to be friends with you. Leave your share in the assault out of it." Hector swallowed the humble pie—with a great effort—for the good of his cause. "I want your help—not for myself—if this thing goes on, I can fight it alone——" The politician, observing the great chest and shoulders and the steel-coloured eyes in the rugged face, felt a sharp sense of his opponent's indomitable strength. "Your help—to stop as much of this unjust criticism as possible. That will improve efficiency, stamp out crime and leave the men—my men—alone. You don't know my point of view, Molyneux. I hold every man in my division——" he spoke very earnestly and quietly—"in the hollow of my hand. I can make their lives Heaven or Hell. Knowing this, they look to me for justice. I try to give it. They look to me for protection. By God, they're going to have it!"
His fist crashed on the table.