“Yes, as far as I can make out they don’t seem to be poisonous, and, though there are some good-sized ones there, I don’t see any of the constrictor variety. I think it would be perfectly safe to go down.”
“But what do you want of snakes?” asked Bob.
“I don’t want any snakes, but, where there are serpents, there may be toads, and I might find my two-tailed specimen. Of course if you boys don’t want to go down you can let me off at some spot where there are no snakes, and I can walk to this place. I’m not afraid.”
“We’ll go down with you!” exclaimed Jerry stoutly. “I think——”
But he never finished the sentence. At that moment the door of the hut, in front of which the serpents were writhing, was swung open, and three figures, each armed with a club, stood in the portal, waving their hands to our friends in the airship.
“Look!” cried Bob.
“Quick! The glasses!” demanded Jerry, and when he had them he focused the binoculars on the trio in the hut on Snake Island. Then the tall lad uttered a cry of wonder.
“It’s Noddy Nixon!” gasped Jerry. “Noddy Nixon, and Bill Berry! And the other man is that dishonest professor! How in the world did they get there?”
“Are you sure it’s them?” asked Bob.