Carley saw a pipe leading from a huge boiler to the ditch. The dark
fluid was running out of it. From a rusty old engine with big smokestack
poured the strangling smoke. A man broke open a sack of yellow powder
and dumped it into the ditch. Then he poured an acid-like liquid after
it.
"Sulphur and nicotine," yelled Flo up at Carley. "The dip's poison. If
a sheep opens his mouth he's usually a goner. But sometimes they save
one."
Carley wanted to tear herself away from this disgusting spectacle. But
it held her by some fascination. She saw Glenn and Hutter fall in line
with the other men, and work like beavers. These two pacemakers in the
small pen kept the sheep coming so fast that every worker below had a
task cut out for him. Suddenly Flo squealed and pointed.
"There! that sheep didn't come up," she cried. "Shore he opened his
mouth."
Then Carley saw Glenn energetically plunge his hooked pole in and out
and around until he had located the submerged sheep. He lifted its
head above the dip. The sheep showed no sign of life. Down on his knees
dropped Glenn, to reach the sheep with strong brown hands, and to haul
it up on the ground, where it flopped inert. Glenn pummeled it and
pressed it, and worked on it much as Carley had seen a life-guard work
over a half-drowned man. But the sheep did not respond to Glenn's active
administrations.
"No use, Glenn," yelled Hutter, hoarsely. "That one's a goner."
Carley did not fail to note the state of Glenn's hands and arms and
overalls when he returned to the ditch work. Then back and forth
Carley's gaze went from one end to the other of that scene. And suddenly
it was arrested and held by the huge fellow who handled the sheep so
brutally. Every time he dragged one and threw it into the pit he yelled:
"Ho! Ho!" Carley was impelled to look at his face, and she was amazed to
meet the rawest and boldest stare from evil eyes that had ever been her
misfortune to incite. She felt herself stiffen with a shock that was
unfamiliar. This man was scarcely many years older than Glenn, yet he
had grizzled hair, a seamed and scarred visage, coarse, thick lips, and
beetling brows, from under which peered gleaming light eyes. At every
turn he flashed them upon Carley's face, her neck, the swell of her
bosom. It was instinct that caused her hastily to close her riding coat.
She felt as if her flesh had been burned. Like a snake he fascinated
her. The intelligence in his bold gaze made the beastliness of it all
the harder to endure, all the stronger to arouse.