Truscott examined the steel closely.
"Well?"
"It's—just smashed?" Truscott replied questioningly.
Dave shook his head.
"You can see where it's been filed."
Truscott reexamined it and nodded.
"I see now. God!"
The exclamation was involuntary. It came at the sudden realization of how well his work had been carried out, and what that work meant. Dave, watching, grasped something of its meaning. There was that within him which guided him surely in the mental workings of his fellow man. He was looking into the very heart of this man who had so desperately tried to injure him. And what he saw, though he was angered, stirred him to a strange pity.
"It's pretty mean when you think of it," he said slowly. "Makes you think some, doesn't it? Makes you wonder what folks are made of. If you hated, could you have done it? Could you have deliberately set out to ruin a fellow—to take his life? The man that did this thing figured on just that."
"Did he say so?"