y, smiling at Ken. "You'll like it."

Raymond looked scared. Ken wondered if the fellow ever got any enjoyment
out of things. Then Ken found himself attending to his own sensations.
The steam was pouring out of the pipe inside the box, and it was growing
wetter, thicker, and hotter. The pleasant warmth and tickling changed to
a burning sensation. Ken found himself bathed in a heavy sweat. Then he
began to smart in different places, and he was hard put to it to keep
rubbing them. The steam grew hotter; his body was afire; his breath
labored in great heaves. Ken felt that he must cry out. He heard
exclamations, then yells, from some of the other boxed-up players,
and he glanced quickly around. Reddy Ray was smiling, and did not
look at all uncomfortable. But Raymond was scarlet in the face, and
he squirmed his head to and fro.

"_Ough!_" he bawled. "Let me out of here!"

One of the negro attendants lifted the lid and helped Raymond out.
He danced about as if on hot bricks. His body was the color of a
boiled lobster. The attendant put him under one of the showers and
turned the water on. Raymond uttered one deep, low, "O-o-o-o!" Then
McCord begged to be let out; Weir's big head, with its shock of hair,
resembled that of an angry lion; little Trace screamed, and Duncan
yelled.

"Peg, how're you?" asked Murray, walking up to Ken. "It's always pretty
hot the first few times. But afterward it's fine. Look at Reddy."

"Murray, give Peg a good stewin'," put in Arthurs. "He's got a great
arm, and we must take care of it."

Ken saw the other boys, except Ray, let out, and he simply could not
endure the steam any longer.

"I've got--enough," he stammered.

"Scotty, turn on a little more stew," ordered Murray, cheerfully; then
he rubbed his hand over Ken's face. "You're not hot yet."

Scotty turned on more steam, and Ken felt it as a wet flame. He was
being flayed alive.

"Please--please--let me out!" he implored.

With a laugh Murray lifted the lid, and Ken hopped out. He was as red
as anything red he had ever seen. Then Scotty shoved him under a shower,
and as the icy water came down in a deluge Ken lost his breath, his
chest caved in, and he gasped. Scotty led him out into the room, dried
him with a towel, rubbed him down, and then, resting Ken's arm on his
shoulder, began to pat and beat and massage it. In a few moments Ken
thought his arm was a piece of live India rubber. He had never been in
such a glow. When he