If, on the other hand, Japazy should be relieved at finding the boy dead, the perpetrators could proudly boast their part in the deed and count on the gratitude and perhaps the gifts of the master.
There was a horrid, slithering sound as the scaly body was dragged over the floor. The deathlike stillness in which Bomba lay had thus far prevented his detection. Luckily the bed lay in the shadow.
The moonlight came into the room at an angle, and it was intercepted by the branches of a tree outside so that its beams were cast only at intervals here and there. It was only when the rays caught the long, black body that Bomba was able to follow the course of the reptile about the room. At other times he had to guess its location by the horrid rustling that accompanied its progress.
There was a possible chance, Bomba thought, that the snake, not finding the food it sought, would curl up after a while and go to sleep. But this hope was dissipated as he caught a glimpse of the evil eyes that were darting in every direction. Nothing was further from that messenger of evil than sleep.
It was only a matter of time when the reptile would reach the bed. Then the head would be upreared. It was beyond possibility that it would not detect the lad lying there, no matter how still he kept.
Then would come a dart like lightning and the terrible fangs, dripping with poison, would be imbedded in the boy’s face or throat, and a very few minutes later Bomba would be dead.
His weapons? The bow and arrow were out of the question. Long before he could string his arrow the snake would be upon him. The knife? That might serve at close quarters, but that meant he would be bitten first.
The fire stick!
Slowly, imperceptibly, Bomba’s right hand stole to his pouch. It gripped the butt of the revolver. Quite as slowly his hand came back holding the weapon.
The slithering grew more distinct. The monster was drawing nearer.