“Oh, nonsense, nonsense, Griggs!” cried Chris. “Who’s to go and lay the train and place the powder ready?”
“Ah, that would be awkward,” said the American thoughtfully.
“Besides, if you had such an explosion you’d burst the barrels.”
“Hah! So we should. I say, couldn’t lasso the barrels, could we? I can throw a noose pretty well.”
“You’d catch serpent as well as the barrels.”
“Yes, and that would be nice, to have a savage rattler thrashing and striking about, trying to get his fangs into you somewhere. Say, Chris Lee, lad, we’ve got in a tangle. Hallo! I thought as much; here’s the doctor.”
The gentleman in question rode slowly up.
“Well,” he said, “have you found the barrels?”
Chris answered him mutely by pointing to the objects of their search.
“Very well,” said the doctor. “Why don’t you—Oh, I see, you’ve just dismounted to sling them across your saddle. We were beginning to think you very long. But I don’t see any snakes. Where are they, Chris?”