"Charlie," said Tom, "I'm going to stop for a moment to speak to old Ramsay. He can tell us more about rattlesnakes than anybody in these parts."
The boys found old Ramsay very willing to talk about rattlesnakes. "If it wasn't for my rheumatism," he said, "I'd just as lief go with you as not. But if you go up to the Break-Neck Rocks, and look around in the sunny places, you'll be sure to find some. You know how to scotch 'em, don't you?"
"Oh yes," said Tom, "I've done it before; but what bothers me is how to get the fangs out of the snake after we catch it. It's got to have its fangs out before it's delivered."
"Don't you try to take 'em out at all," said Ramsay. "Just you get your snake into this basket, and fasten the lid down tight, and then bring it to me. I'll take the fangs out."
The man then handed Tom a small but strong basket, made of split white oak, and thanking him for it, the boys started off again. On the way up Tom cut a pole about six feet long. He whittled off the upper branches, leaving only a small crotch at the top.
The Break-Neck Rocks were near the top of the mountain, but before they got there the boys sat down to rest.
"Tom," said Charlie, "if I'd been you, I would have put on my shoes before I came out to hunt rattlesnakes."
Tom looked at his bare feet in despair. "I never thought of it," he said. "I had so many things to do, that shoes never entered into my head."
"If your feet had entered your shoes, that would have been much better," said Charlie.
"Well, I'm not going back," said Tom, "for it's too far. I'll pick my way gingerly, and I guess I won't tread on a snake."