ief came into Festing's face. "That's comforting news; I
was afraid--You're a good partner, Bob!"

"I don't know if I've been of much help so far, and the money I put into
the undertaking wasn't mine. There's a third partner, Stephen, and I
think she'd like me to see you through."

Festing gave him a grateful glance and closed his eyes. After a time, he
opened them feebly and asked: "Do you know why the frame gave way?"

"Not yet," said Charnock with some dryness. "I mean to find out!"

Then the doctor interrupted and sent him away. Going back to the scene
of the accident, he found the damage less serious than he thought. Part
of the wall had fallen and the post, which had broken, had pulled down
the timbers attached, but these could be replaced, and Charnock, calling
two men, began to clear the snow from the king-tie, which he imagined
had given way first. He found the Lewis bolt fixed to its end, but the
wedge had gone, and he climbed to the spot where the end of the beam had
been fixed. The stone socket had not broken, but pieces of crushed lead
lay near the hole. The soft metal had not much holding power and had
been used to fill up the crevices.

Sitting down, he began with methodical patience to turn over the snow
and loose rubble that remained on the shelf after the large stones
had fallen. The odds were against his finding what he sought, but he
persevered for an hour and then picked up a piece of broken metal a few
inches long. It was half of the wedge, which had broken at the slot, but
although he searched carefully he could not find the other part. Putting
the piece in his pocket, he went to the forge and, seeing the smith was
occupied, sat down and filled his pipe. The door was open and the light
reflected from the snow was strong. Charnock was glad of this, because
he wanted to see the smith, who presently dropped his hammer and leaned
against the hearth.

"How's your partner getting on?" he asked. "Mr. Festing's the kind of
man I like; I was sorry to hear he had got hurt."

Charnock studied the man. His face was pale and wrinkled under the
grime, but he looked honest, and if his statement was sincere, as
Charnock thought, it seemed to clear the ground. After giving him a few
particulars about Festing's injuries, he lighted his pipe.

"Wilkinson's not here to-day," he remarked.

"He's not always here," said the smith. "He comes when there are picks
and drills that want sharpening."

"I saw him on