“What’s the matter, kid?” Westy thought he was dreaming.
“There’s something heavy on my hand—I can’t move it.”
He reached out and felt around in the darkness to where Rip’s hand had dangled on the ground in his sleep.
Even in the dark as his own hand came in contact with the cold, slimy object Westy knew instinctively what it was.
Huge and heavy, it had rested its whole weight on the sleeping boy’s hand, and quickly seizing it in both of his own, Westy flung it as far as his strength permitted.
“What was it, Wes?” Rip was relieved as he heard the thud of the falling thing.
“Nothing—just a nice big snake!”
CHAPTER XXVII—A LITTLE HOPE
“I don’t think I care about lying down again,” Rip sighed. “The next one that happened to come along would be liable to park on my chest.”
“You’re darn lucky it wasn’t a rattler or you wouldn’t be here to give a hang where the next one parked!”