That's what it amounted to."
"There are hardships worked in any administration," Bob pointed out.
Amy looked at him slowly.
"You don't believe that in this case," she pronounced at last.
"Then Pollock will perjure himself," suggested Bob, to try her.
"And if he has friends worth the name, they'll perjure themselves, too!"
cried Amy boldly. "They'll establish an alibi, they'll invent a murderer
for Plant, they'll do anything for a man as persecuted and hunted as
poor George Pollock!"
"Heavens!" returned Bob, genuinely aghast at this wholesale programme.
"What would become of morals and honour and law and all the rest of it,
if that sort of thing obtained?"
"Law?" Amy caught him up. "Law? It's become foolish. No man lives
capable of mastering it so completely that another man cannot find flaws
in his best efforts. Reuf and Schmitz are guilty--everybody says so,
even themselves. Why aren't they in jail? Because of the law. Don't talk
to me of law!"
"But how about ordinary mortals? You can't surely permit a man to lie in
a court of justice just because he thinks his friend's cause is just!"
"I don't know anything about it," sighed Amy, as though weary all at
once, "except that it isn't right.
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