“Do we go through them?” gasped Jack, halting a moment as he got on his feet after the slide down the scrubbing board.
“Sure—go ahead,” said Walter.
“Oh, mercy! He won’t really go through those rolls, will he?” gasped Belle.
The rolls did look formidable, and they were whirling around at a rapid rate.
“Be a sport,” called Ed. “When you’ve been rolled out you’ll be all right, Jack.”
“All right—you go ahead,” retorted Jack, stepping back. “You can have my place.”
“It’s all right, fellows—go ahead,” one of the attendants assured them. Jack faced the revolving rolls. The attendant gave him a gentle push, and, before Jack knew it he was swallowed up in the whirling cylinders.
“Oh!” screamed Bess. “He’ll be killed!”
But neither she nor the others could see what happened, for Jack vanished, and, after him went Walter and Ed.
Once through the rolls, they were tossed with considerable force into a wringer ten times the size of the one through which they had just passed. Like the first the rolls were upright, and not horizontal. They seemed to be made of rubber, and were more real than the first. Jack tried to hold back, but it was of no use. He had been tossed fairly into the big wringer, and, a moment later, he found himself being drawn through. To his surprise the rolls were of straw, covered with cotton-batting, and they compressed sufficiently to allow him to go through easily.