"Ever look at it?"
Marlin studied the other's face under the swinging shadows. Then he took the metal disc and peered at it closely.
Sally glanced from one serious face to the other. "Well," she demanded, "what's it all about?"
Without a word, Marlin passed her the fragment.
"Link said the blowtorch cut through it like butter," DuChane remarked grimly. "We've noticed how the clay covering digests waste material—tin cans included."
Sally turned the piece over curiously, ran her fingers over the serrated surface, held it up to the light.
"So that's all there is between us and—" She hesitated. "Why it's half eaten through in places—like something rusted. Is it my imagination, or can you see through it?"
"Imagination," assured Marlin. He took the fragment and held it before his eyes. "No, by thunder! A couple of pinpoint holes have been eaten clear through it."
After a moment, Sally slowly rose.
"No use saying anything to the others," Marlin suggested, noting the listless drag of her bare feet as she started toward the ladder.