Charnock nodded, as if it did not matter. He had found out what he wanted to know and thought he had not excited the smith's suspicions. Taking the broken wedge from his pocket, he put it on the hearth.
“I expect you know what that is! The Lewis smashed when the frame came down.”
“It's the wedge. Don't see why it broke; plenty metal left, though the slot weakened it.”
“What's it made of?”
“Steel. The iron I wanted didn't come; but this is mild, low-carbon stuff.”
“Then what's the matter with it. It did break.”
The smith put the piece into a socket in the anvil and struck it with a hammer. The end broke short, and picking up the fragment he went to the door.
“Nature's gone out of it; I sure can't understand the thing,” he said with a puzzled look. “If I hadn't forged the stuff myself, I'd allow it was burned.”
“You don't often overheat the steel you work.”
“No, sir,” said the smith, who took up a piece of metal, pierced with holes. “Made this out of the same bar, and it took more forging. Now you watch!”