"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 drier, where they were spread thinly upon it. The drier is simply a frame upon which is nailed a large surface of wire sieving, directly under which are coils of hot steam pipes. On this drier the flocks become baked dry, and are about as hard as dry mud. "It seems to me that these rags have to go through different machines enough before they get ready for use. I wonder what the next step is?" said Fred. "Only one more machine--the one where you saw me fill my basket with flocks. I suppose you noticed that it had a big hopper on top? Well, we just turn these dry lumps right in here, and let them grind out as fast as they will." "Then I've been the rounds of our work, have I?" asked Fred. "Yes, unless Mr. Hanks makes you lug the cloth down."