“A snake!” repeated the professor. “How extraordinary! How did it get there, Stowell?”
“I—I—some—boys— That is, I can’t really tell you, sir,” said the sneak, with a shiver. He had been about to explain, but suddenly remembered the whipping that had been promised to him if he played the sneak again. “But the snake is there, sir, and I don’t know what to do!”
“I’ll investigate,” said Snopper Duke, and marched up the stairs and into the room, followed by the sneak.
Professor Duke was by no means a timid man, and he approached the bed boldly. A book was handy, and this he hurled at the reptile. The snake did not move. Then the professor came closer.
“Why, it’s only a make-believe snake! It’s made of paper!” he declared, holding it up in his fingers.
“A—a—paper snake?” faltered Stowell.
“Yes. Someone has been playing a trick on you, Stowell. The next time you are frightened you had better make an investigation before you report.” And with this rather sarcastic remark Professor Duke strode from the room and down the stairs.
“A paper snake! Oh, what a sell!” Stowell murmured. “How they’ll laugh at me when they hear of this!”