"Fine fellow, that Wilson," remarked Frank.
"He's all of that," agreed Billy, who having been with him when the regiment was on the Mexican border knew him better than his companions did. "That fellow could lick his weight in wildcats. There isn't anything he's afraid to tackle. I heard a story about him once that you fellows wouldn't believe if I told you."
"Let's hear it," said Bart.
"Shoot," chimed in Tom. "We'll see about believing it after we've heard what it is."
"It happened down in Nicaragua," went on Billy. "Caribtown, I think it was, or some place near there. There was some little dinky revolution going on and Wilson it seems had gone down there on some filibustering expedition. He drank pretty freely in those days though he doesn't touch a drop now.
"It seems he was in one of the town resorts when he heard talk about a boa constrictor that had recently been captured and confined in a big cage. The snakes down there don't measure more than ten or twelve feet, but they can easily crush a man if they get their coils around him.
"Wilson just then had got into a condition where he was ready to fight a regiment, and he sneered at their fear of the snake. They egged him on until he boasted that he would be willing to meet the snake in a close room with nothing but a knife. The riffraff there called his bluff and it was arranged that the fight should take place the next morning."
"Some contract!" ejaculated Tom.
"Is this straight goods, Billy, or are you getting us on a string?" asked Bart suspiciously.
"On the dead level," answered Billy. "I had it from a fellow who was down there at the time and knew all about it."