Suddenly he made half a dozen long strides to the machinist's bench. He laid hands on a twelve-pound sledge-hammer. He came back with it over his shoulder, and before the horrified Arturius could utter a word, High-Pockets had gone to the rear of No. 7 and swung the sledge in one devastating left-handed blow that sheared through the ninth and tenth cams. Then he stepped to the right and crashed the hammer down on the pot-pump cam. He stepped back, breathing hard, the hammer over his shoulder. Pieces of cast iron tinkled to the floor. "Well," boomed High-Pockets, "I guess I fixed it, didn't I?" There was no answer. High-Pockets looked around. Arturius had quietly fainted. The judge looked horrified. They revived Arturius by the simple expedient of putting a screwdriver in his big hand. He opened his eyes and stared at High-Pockets and shook his head slowly, incredulously. High-Pockets helped him up. "Don't worry," he said. Arturius sputtered and almost detonated. "Don't worry!" he snorted. "Five hundred dollars worth of cams busted up and he says, 'Don't worry!'" "It won't cost that much," said High-Pockets. "I'll help you piece the cams together. You can get them welded." "No," said Arturius. "I'll get new ones." "It won't work," said High-Pockets. "What won't work?" "I did that to chastise the machine. If it wants to be so independent, it will have to endure the penalties as well as enjoy the privileges. If you put in new cams, it will think it's smart and go right ahead raising hell. But if you have the old ones welded and put back in, the welds, like scars, will remind No. 7 that she's supposed to be a lady. As long as they are there, No. 7 will behave. I guarantee it." The judge wiped his bald head again. "I do believe you've got something there, Mr. Jones. If a machine assumes the right of self-determination, what would be more natural than to treat it as you would treat any other self-determining creature?" High-Pockets heaved a tremendous sigh of relief. He saw now that his stay in the city would not be terminated as a guest in the workhouse. High-Pockets was very happy indeed. "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."