he deck-hand.

"No doubt at all about it. Did you notice the boatman that took the
letter?"

"It was a blacky I have seen a dozen times about the steamer and on the
wharf, looking for jobs for that boat-yard," replied Buck. "He was in
the barge that brought off the passengers to-day."

"All right, Buck;" and the deck-hand retired. "After I heard about this
letter, I didn't expect anything of Cobbington, if I found him."

"Did you find him?"

"I did; he was not out of his bed when I called for him. He told me he
had two water moccasins, and one of them had got away while he had a
room at Captain Boomsby's. He did not know what became of him. He had
looked all about the house without being able to find him."

"Did he tell you what became of the other?"

"I asked him that question, and he told me he had him still. I asked
him to let me see him, but he refused in spite of all I could say to
induce him to show him. He said the snake was nailed up in a box, with
only some holes bored in it to admit the air; and he could not show the
snake without taking off the cover of the box. The moccasin was a
dangerous fellow, and he didn't want to run any risks with him. He had
left his last boarding-place because they killed a rattlesnake
belonging to him. I asked him to show me the box, but he wouldn't even
do that, and said it was all nonsense to show the box."

"You made up your mind that he had no moccasin?" I added.

"No more than I had. On my way down from the house I met his landlord,
coming home from the market. He asked me if I had found Cobbington. I
told him I had, and then informed him his lodger kept a live moccasin
snake in his room. He was greatly astonished at what I told him, and
declared that he wouldn't have a moccasin in his house for all the
money there was in Jacksonville; the snake might get loose, and bite
his wife or one of his children. He intimated that he should hasten
home and turn Cobbington out of his house: he would not have any man
under his roof who would endanger the lives of his wife and children."

"That was bad for Cobbington," I replied, with a smile.

"I told the landlord what his lodger said, that he had the moccasin
nailed up in a box. He didn't care how he kept him: he would not have
such a fellow about his house. I added that I did not believe
Cobbington had any such snake in his room, though he insisted that he
had. Then he either had a moccasin, or he lied about it, and in eithe