Carmachel's dry response. "Now we'll let the others finish
this work. You come inside and you shall have a new job. You've done
enough unloading for your first day."

Obediently Peter followed into the shed, where other men were busy
cutting the cords from round the skins, looking them over, and tossing
some into one pile and some into another.

"These fellows that you see are sorting the calfskins according to their
weight," explained Carmachel. "We get them flat--by that I mean that
when the bales are made up all sizes and qualities of skins are tied in
together. These men put the fine, heavy ones in one pile, the medium
weight in another, the light weight in another, the imperfect ones in
another, and so on."

"I do not see how they can tell so quickly," said Peter.

"They couldn't if they hadn't done it a good many times before. They are
skilled men. Watch them. It does not take them many minutes to determine
the value of a skin."

"And what are those other men doing?" Peter questioned, pointing to a
group of workmen who were engaged in swiftly cutting off parts of the
skins with long knives.

"Oh, they are taking off the heads and other good-for-nothing parts
which are sold for glue stock. Nothing is wasted in a tannery, let me
tell you! After the skins leave this room they will be sent to the
beamhouse, where they will be soaked in water until all the dirt and
salt is out of them. Usually this takes from twenty-four to forty-eight
hours."

"What's the beamhouse?" was Peter's query.

"The beamhouse? I'll not be telling you. 'Twould be a sin to spoil your
first sight of it." Carmachel shook his head. "No, young one, I'll tell
you nothing of the beamhouse. You'll find out in time. There's many a
pleasant spot awaiting you in this tannery."

A general snicker went around.

Again Peter did not understand.

"Now," declared Carmachel briskly, "you have idled long enough. Take
that knife and go to cutting the twine from those bales of skins."

At this task the boy worked faithfully until the noon whistle blew. At
its first blast all the men dropped what they were doing and Peter, who
did the same, followed them into a washroom, where he scoured his hands
with sand soap. Somehow he did not feel as scornful toward his box of
lunch as he had when he had tucked it under his arm in the early
morning. Instead he made his way out into the vacant field opposite
where he saw the men congregating, and sitting down in