"Have they hurt you, Dad?" asked Dalgetty very gently.
"No, no—not till now." The gray head shook. "But you...."
"Take it easy, Dad," said Dalgetty.
The guards hustled Tighe over to a front-row bench and sat him down. Old man and young locked eyes across the bare space.
Tighe spoke to him in the hidden way. What are you going to do? I can't sit and let them—
Dalgetty could not reply unheard but he shook his head. "I'll be okay," he answered aloud.
Do you think you can make a break? I'll try to help you.
"No," said Dalgetty. "Whatever happens you lie low. That's an order."
He blocked off sensitivity as Bancroft snapped, "Enough. One of you is going to yield. If Dr. Tighe won't, then we'll work on him and see if Mr. Dalgetty can hold out."
He waved his hand as he took out a cigar. Two of the goons stepped up to the chair. They had rubberite hoses in their hands.