Chapter Twenty-Five
Ted Dalton
I have become somewhat accustomed to the humiliation of the past two weeks. Still, it is awkward to be directed by the teenaged Miss Luana. I feel another snap of her whip and for a moment my thoughts are interrupted and my mind returns to the task at hand, pulling in harness this interesting contraption which scoops up the salt. Miss Luana stands on an axle connected to two large balloon tires, which easily roll over the soft whiteness. Behind her is a collection bin for the salt. To the right is a horizontal blade, which she can raise or lower. As I pull, the action of the wheeled vehicle causes the blade to scrape up the top two or three inches of salt. Various gizmos then force the white powder up a chute into the bin. The gizmos are mechanically run by
