"How can you be sure?" Arturius demanded.
"I'll show you," said High-Pockets. "Turn on the motor."
Arturius did. A strange thing happened. No. 7 began to turn. She pulled herself off of the cast. Somehow she broke loose the hardened metal on her vise-jaws. It dropped to the floor in one big piece. She came to a normal stop and stood there obediently.
"That's utterly impossible!" Arturius shouted. "It can't even turn over—with those cams broken out."
"She's chastened," High-Pockets said gently. "All you have to do from now on is to be firm."
The judge came closer. "Mr. Jones," he said, "I am beginning to believe that even a linotype operator has a place in this modern world. Suppose we all three go out and have a drink."
High-Pockets turned off the motor. "I heard you the first time, Your Honor, and I am happy to report that there are no extenuating circumstances. Shall we go?"