("He's as obstinate as possible," thought I.) Then I heard him banging at the wood with his fists and his crutch.

("He _is_ in a temper!" was my mental comment.) After this my attention was distracted for a second or two by seeing what I thought was a bit of toffy left in the tin, and biting it and finding it was a piece of sheet-glue.

I had not spit out all the disgust of it, when Charlie called me in low, awe-struck tones: "Jack! come here.

Quick!" I ran to him.

The drawer was open, but it seemed to have another drawer inside it, a long, narrow, shallow one.
"I hit the back, and this sprang out," said Charlie.