Ingmar was silent during the meal, but when he had finished his coffee, he asked Storm whether he really knew anything about watches.
"Why, of course," returned the schoolmaster. "Don't you know that I understand a little of everything?"
Ingmar then brought out a watch which he carried in his vest pocket. It was a big, round, silver turnip that looked ugly and clumsy as compared with Halvor's watch. The chain to which it was attached was also a clumsy contrivance. The case was quite plain and dented. It was not much of a watch: it had no crystal, and the enamel on its face was cracked.
"It has stopped," said Storm, putting the watch to his ear.
"Yes, I kn-n-ow," stammered the boy. "I was just wondering if you didn't think it could be mended."
Storm opened it and found that all the wheels were loose. "You must have been hammering nails with this watch," he said. "I can't do anything with it."
"Don't you think that Eric, the clockmaker, could fix it?"
"No, no more than I. You'd better send it to Falun and have new works put in."
"I thought so," said Ingmar, and took the watch.
"For heaven's sake, what have you been doing with it?" the schoolmaster exclaimed.