"I didn't hear any rattler," said Tom gravely. "Did you, Harry?"
"Not a rattle," said Hazelton soberly.
Jim Ferrers looked on and grinned behind Alf's back. The youngster was trembling. As Tom came near him the "rattle" sounded again. Within five minutes two more warning "rattles" had been heard near the boy.
"The camp must be full of 'em," wailed the terrified boy. "And
I'm afraid of rattlers."
"So am I, Alf," Tom assured him, "but I haven't heard one of the reptiles. The trouble is with your nerves, Drew. And your nerves are in league with your brain. If you go on smoking cigarettes you won't have any brain. Or, if you do, it will be one that will have you howling with fear all the time. Why don't you drop the miserable things when you find they're driving you out of your heads"
"Perh-h-h-haps I will," muttered the boy.
After an early supper, Jim Ferrers rode away. He offered to leave his rifle in camp, but Tom protested.
"I'd feel responsible for the thing if you left it here, you know, Jim. And I don't want to have to keep toting it around all the time you're away."
"But suppose Dolph Gage and his crew come over here, and you're not armed?"
"Then I'll own up that we haven't anything to shoot with, and ask him to call again," Tom laughed. "But don't be afraid, Jim. Gage and his crew will be anxious, for the next few days, to see whether they can coax us into serving them. They need an engineer over at their stolen claim, and they know it."