“Next, I take the retort,—see that it’s cold,—and chalk it well. Watch me, Ben,—most anybody can set an egg on end after they’ve seen it done. Next, I wrap these here baseballs—base is good!—in paper and put ’em in the retort,—so. Then I jam the cover down tight. Now, give me a lift, Ben. This here’s pretty heavy, I reckon.”
The retort did not seem heavy to Ben as they lifted it to the furnace; and he concluded that Mundon had asked him to help him, in order that he might feel that he was more than a spectator.
“He’s got the finest feelings,” Ben said to himself. “He’s always trying to make a fellow feel comfortable.”
They built a roaring fire in the furnace.
“Now, you kin tend that fire fur two hours, Ben,” said Mundon, “while I go down-town and see ’bout gittin’ some more coal and a few little things we need. I’ll be right back. Don’t forget—you got to keep that there retort red-hot the whole time.”
“Yes, yes. And then what do we do?”
“Well, you got to keep the retort red-hot for two hours, as I told you, just a dull red-hot; but at the last you pile on the coal till it’s a reel cherry-red.”
“And after that?”
“O, I’ll be here to show you what to do afterwards.”
During the following two hours Ben watched the furnace and plied it with coal. A rap on the doors attracted his attention, and he admitted Beth and little Sue.