“They surely ought,” agreed Baseball Joe. “But we’ll have to postpone their punishment. Everything will have to wait till the end of the season. Apart from anything else, if we found them out now and had them arrested, see how it would break into our work. We’d have to leave the team to come here to testify at the trial and perhaps stay away for weeks, and that would cost the Giants the pennant. But speaking of this fellow here in the box, what are we going to do with him? We can’t leave him here.”
“It’s rather awkward,” remarked Jim. “I suppose we could take him down to the cellar and have him burned in the furnace.”
“Not without arousing the curiosity of the furnace man and leading to talk,” objected Joe. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We leave town to-morrow night. We’ll wrap the snake up in a compact package and carry it along in a suitcase. Then at night while the train is speeding along, we’ll open a window and drop him out.”
They agreed on this as the best solution.
“I suppose there’s no question that the snake is dead,” remarked Jim, with an inflection of uncertainty in his voice. “It would be mighty awkward to have him come to life again in the suitcase.”
“I guess he’s drowned all right,” returned Joe. “He was a long time under water. But just to make assurance doubly sure, I’ll cut off his head.”
He took out his heavy jackknife and severed the reptile’s head from his body. Handling the grisly creature was a repugnant task, and they were glad when it was finished.
“Guess I’ll keep this head,” remarked Joe, as a thought came to him. “I’ll slip it into a jar of alcohol and that will preserve it indefinitely.”
“What on earth do you want it for?” queried Jim. “I shouldn’t think you’d care for that kind of souvenir.”
“I have a hunch it may come in handy some time,” answered Joe. “Now let’s wrap up this body and get it out of our sight.”