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In other words, why do you destroy your five senses with cigarettes in this fashion?" Cl-cl-click! Alf Drew halted, trembling so that he could hardly stand. "I'm going to quit camp -going to get out of this place," he shivered. "The ground is full of rattlers. O-o-o-oh! There's another tuning up." Tom laughed covertly. The disturbing sound came again.
Click cl-cl-click! "There it is again," cried Alf, in fear. "What on earth are you talking about?" Tom demanded. Once more the dread sound smote the air. "Rattlers!" wailed Drew, perspiring from fear. "Lemme get away from this." "Nonsense!" retorted Reade, retaining a strong clutch on the boy's shoulder, though once more the sound reached their ears. "It's all your nerves, Alf," Tom insisted.
There was something mildly though surely compelling in Tom's manner. Alf Drew went along, though he didn't wish to. The two were just at the fringe of the thick underbrush when there came a warning sound just ahead of them. Click! cl-cl-click! "Whee! Me for outer this!" gasped Alf, going whiter than ever as he turned. But Tom caught him by the shoulder. "What's the matter?" demanded Reade.
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