“Gee! Here’s a circus. But I’d hate to take a girl to see it,” added Patsy Garvan.
Jefferson Arnold said nothing. But he stared intently, for he believed he recognized the young man who had been drawn to the center of the ring.
“Say! What are we going to do about this?” exclaimed Patsy, in a subdued tone. “The snakes are crawling up on him.”
It was true. There was a sharp change in the melody—if it could be called that—of the pipe, and several of the snakes began to circle closely around the young man. Some of them seemed to strike in his direction, but their fangs never quite reached him.
The whole performance was one that snake charmers in India have carried on for ages, but it was none the less eerie and extraordinary to those who now saw it for the first time.
One of the snakes—the largest of the squirming collection—was halfway up the young man’s leg.
The reptile did not stop there, however. It went up to his shoulder, and finally crawled around his neck till its head was close to the victim’s livid face.
The young fellow shuddered, but did not try to shake the creature off. It looked as if his power of will had been taken from him. He could only suffer.
“Carter!” whispered Jefferson excitedly. “We’ve got to save that boy.”
“Of course we must,” answered Nick.