:

"This is the wet grinder. We put the rags in here, and run them in water
about three hours until they are ground up as fine as can be, and look
just like porridge."

"What do you do with the porridge?"

"Do you see these little bags at this end of the tank? We bail it out
into them, and after the water strains out a little, we tie them up and
load them on one of these cars and run them out to the 'extractor.'"

"What kind of a thing is an extractor?"

"It is something that shakes the water out. It has a big basket inside
that goes around like lightning."

"I'd like to see it; where is it?"

"Come into this next room; here it is."

On entering the room Fred's eyes fairly stuck out with amazement. He had
already seen more queer machines that morning than he had ever imagined
had been made, but here was something that surpassed them all. It
consisted of a large cast iron cylinder, about six feet in diameter and
four feet high. Inside was a wire basket, which nearly filled up the
vacant space. This rested on a pivot, and from the top of it extended
upward a short shaft, the end of which was connected with a small
pulley.

The tender of the machine had just put in two whole pieces of double
width beaver cloth dripping wet from the washers, and was now starting
up the machine slowly.

Pretty soon it commenced to whirl around rather rapidly, then the speed
increased as the power was let on, until a buzz was heard, which quickly
gave way to a singing, hissing sound; now followed a spark, then another
and another in quick succession, and the whole rim of the extractor
seemed a perfect blaze.

Fred thought it was going to pieces, and jumped backward for safety; but
by the time he got where he supposed himself out of danger the tender
had shifted the belt to the loose pulley, and by applying the brake had
stopped the whirl of the basket.

Carl laughed at Fred's timidity, and said:

"What were you frightened about? The extractor 'most always does that
way, only it was a little worse this time, because it probably wasn't
loaded even. That's why the fire flew so. Just see how it took the water
out of the cloth. That's the way it does to the flocks."

Fred felt the cloth, and, knowing that two minutes before it was sopping
wet, now found it was only a little damp. The boys returned to the
flockers and straightened out the cloth and got it running even; then
Carl took a car load of the extracted flocks up to the dr