Chapter 23 A GLIMPSE OF AN OLD ENEMY

"We are in a pickle now and no mistake!" groaned Fred Garrison. He hated snakes as much as he did poison.

"It's certainly bad," declared Songbird Powell. "I wonder what we had best do?"

"Has anybody got a pistol?"

Nobody had, nor was there any weapon handy outside of a jackknife and a fishing rod.

"If we only had a shot-gun," sighed Sam