"Why not?"
"Snakes!"
"Are you afraid of snakes, Alf?"
"Some kinds."
"What kinds?"
"Well, rattlers, f'r instance."
"There are none of that kind on this part of the Indian Smoke
Range," Reade rejoined. "Come along with me."
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.