was swelled with pride at this invention.
But that night the poison festered and he swelled in another manner. He
had sense enough to lock himself in the shack so as to keep from jumping
in the drink when the fever took him. Those caterpillars very near
finished Andrew Harben, but he managed to keep the lights going and the
Bugis came around to call next morning so kind and sympathetic. They
were most neighborly, the Bugis.

"Ya--ya," they said, which was Dutch in a fashion and meant anything you
like--such as buck up, old scout; the worst is yet to come.

They told him about a harmless snake that carried a superfluous or third
eye in its back. He went hunting that curious snake and found it, but he
didn't like the looks of its head. It had a broad head with a button on
the neck that might or might not have been an eye. Of course he could
not doubt when old Allo and all his seven sons assured him positively
that the snake was safe as a tame kitten. But just for luck he grabbed
it cautious and gave it a glass tube to chew on while he pressed the
button.

"Ya--ya!" said the tribe--meaning who so surprised as them--and when
Andrew Harben came to examine the tube he found enough venom to kill
forty men, which was doing pretty well for one harmless little snake....

Yes, business was good, but pretty soon he had to worry about his wicks
again. The socks were about used up, and socks never give a good light
anyhow, Andrew Harben said. He'd been raveling off his pants for more
splices until he blushed to look at himself. This was painful to his
modesty but worse for his comfort, account of giving up so much
protection. Every time he stripped off another inch of pant leg he
opened up new territory for the insects which took to his bare limbs
quite joyous.

Andrew Harben began to wonder where it would end and what he would do
when he had no more pants to ravel. The way these lights burned up wicks
was scandalous, and the tender wasn't due back for more than a week yet.
He tried to get help from the Bugis, but he couldn't seem to make them
understand. They didn't carry socks themselves, nor pants neither, nor
much of anything but their long hair which they wore braided in a kind
of club behind.

"Am I a scientist?" said Andrew Harben. "And can I not wrest the answer
I need from nature herself?"

It cheered him up a lot to think of it that way. He remembered how other
investigators had condescended to useful discoveries l