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Updated: May 25, 2025
You heard 'em yourself, Mr. Reade." "I didn't hear a single rattler," Tom replied soberly. "Let the tired little fellow go to bed in peace," urged Harry. "All right," Tom agreed. Alf went to the head of the cot, to turn the blanket down from the head. Click-ick-ick-ick! came the warning sound. With a yell of terror Alf Drew bounded back. "There's another rattler," he screamed.
The young cigarette fiend was at that instant engaged in rolling one of his paper abominations. Click-ick-ick-ick! "Rattlers again!" shivered Alf. Paper and tobacco fell from his fingers and he fled in terror. Two nights passed without adventure. On each of these nights the three campers -for Alf didn't "count" divided the hours of darkness into three watches, each standing guard in his turn.
"I see," remarked Reade gravely, "that your nerves are going all to pieces." "I feel fine," asserted Alf stolidly. "You must, with your nerves in the state I now find them," retorted the young engineer. "Next thing I know you'll be hearing things." Click-ick-ick! "Wow-ow-wow!" shrieked Alf Drew, bounding some ten feet away from the low bush near which he had been standing. Click-ick-ick-ick!
"Come, be like a man, and give up the pests," advised Tom. "I -I -be-believe I will," half agreed the lad. Click-ick-ick-ick! "Didn't you hear that?" quavered the youngster. "I hear your voice, but no rattlers," Reade went on. "Are you still hearing the snakes? Be a man, Alf! Come, empty your pockets of cigarettes and throw them in the fire." Like one in a dream Alf Drew obeyed.
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