Part 23 (1/2)

”Don't we get asked in to have some cake and chocolate?” questioned Jack.

”Shall we?” queried Cora.

”Please do!” urged Paul.

And they did.

The plans for the next day included a long walk up the mountain to a place where it was said a wonderful view could be had. They were to take their lunch and stay all day, for they could not get back to the bungalow by noon.

”All aboard!” cried Jack, as he and his two chums called for the girls, crossing the rustic bridge at the foot of the fall. ”All aboard!”

They started off merrily together, talking and laughing. Walter had been down to get the early morning mail, and there was a letter from Cora's mother, which said, among other things, that the police had some clews to the men who took the automobile.

”Good!” cried Jack, when Cora read out this. ”What's the rest of it?”

”Well, it seems that some more bogus tickets have been disposed of in places around Chelton, and the men who sold them are described as the same two who sold the coupons in the tea room. The police seem to think there is a good chance of getting them.”

”They didn't see them have your car; did they, Cora?” asked Hazel.

”No such luck, I suppose. But mother doesn't mention that.”

The view was voted all that had been said of it, and after admiring it for some time, preparations were made to eat lunch.

”Let's sit down here,” proposed Cora, pointing to a gra.s.sy spot in the shade of a big sycamore tree. ”Boys, spread the cloth and unpack the baskets. Oh, what a curious root!” she cried, stooping over toward something near a stone.

”Look out!” suddenly cried Paul, pulling Cora back so sharply that she nearly toppled over. The next moment Paul caught up a stone and threw it with all his force at the spotted root. There was an angry hiss.

”Narrow escape for you, Cora,” said Paul, a trifle pale. ”That was a copperhead snake!” and he pointed to the writhing, dying reptile. His stone had struck it fairly.

CHAPTER XVI-LOST

Cora Kimball was not an unusually nervous girl, nor was she given to hysterical demonstrations, but, somehow or other, she felt sick and faint as she looked at the wiggling snake in its death agony. Her eyes saw black, and she swayed so that Paul stepped forward and slipped an arm around her waist.

”I thought you were going to faint,” he said in explanation.

”I-I was,” faltered Cora. ”But I've gotten over the notion. Thank-thank you, Paul. Could I have a drink of water?”

Jack brought her some from a spring not far away.

”Brace up, Sis,” he said with rough, brotherly kindness. ”You're all right. That snake wouldn't have killed you anyhow. I've been bitten by 'em, and it isn't much worse than a mosquito.”

”You have?” cried Paul, in such a queer tone that all save Cora realized that Jack was bluffing for the sake of minimizing the effect on Cora.

Jack made this plain to Paul by winking quickly, and motioning to him to confirm what he had said.

”Oh, yes, that's right,” Paul went on. ”I'd forgotten that the copperheads aren't poisonous this time of year. You wouldn't have been much damaged, Cora, if you had been nipped by this fellow,” and with a swift motion of his foot he kicked the still writhing reptile to one side.

”Really?” she asked.