"Pizen!"
"Venomous?"
"You bet! Durn 'em, I wouldn't touch one of them for the wealth of Rockefeller."
"Do you mean that some of them still have their fangs and poison bags?"
"Sure! D'ye see that little copper-colored cuss down there in the corner, not more'n a foot long? If he got a crack at you, you'd not live ten seconds."
"Well, I will take deuced good care that he gets no nip at me," declared Chick, with a grin. "Why do they have such dangerous things around?"
"H'm! What would be the excitement, or the credit of snake charming, if the wriggling beasts were made harmless by pulling out their fangs?" demanded the stage hand. "It would be like a dog fight, with the dogs muzzled. These belong to that heathen Hindoo, the snake charmer. He shows next."
"Pandu Singe?" inquired Chick, glancing at the name on the program.
"Sure. He handles 'em like so many babies. There he is now, just coming from his dressing room. He looks a bit like a snake himself."
Chick turned and gazed curiously at the approaching foreigner.