on his part brought a venomous oath from Mr. Fryback,
and an instant apology as well.

"You'd cuss, too," explained the blasphemer to the lady, "if a clumsy
elephant, stepped on the only good foot you've got."

"If you think I'm the one that claims to be an elephant--" began
Anderson.

"Cootchy, cootchy, cootchy," cooed the lady, addressing the row of
holes. Whereupon the rustling in the interior of the devilish box
increased to a turmoil. The two citizens of Tinkletown stared wide-eyed
at the three little circles, and their eyes grew wider as they saw that
one of them was now completely stopped up by a dark, ugly object that
bore resemblance to nothing they had ever seen before--a wet, shiny
thing that was alive and quivering.

The unnatural Mrs. Fox promptly poked her finger through the hole and
rubbed the snout of what must have been a full-sized boa-constrictor.
Instantly to their horror, the black obstruction, went through a process
of splitting, and several deadly fangs were revealed. Once more the
wriggling black tongue darted out to caress the lady's unprotected
finger.

"Oh, you darling!" cried the lady. "Please, Mr. Locksmith, see if you
can't find a key that will fit the lock."

Marshal Crow dragged his friend toward the door.

"Did you see it?" he whispered hoarsely.

Before Mort could answer, the door flew open and in rushed Mrs. Bloomer,
bareheaded and in a great state of agitation.

"For heaven's sake, Anderson, hurry up and come with me," she cried.
"Bring a pistol--and, Mort, you get a couple of axes and a pitchfork or
two. My God, something awful is loose in one of them rooms upstairs!
The most terrible racket is going on in there. I--Oh, there you are!"
She caught sight of her lodgers. "Arrest them, Anderson! Lock them up at
once. They're dangerous people. They oughtn't to be running at large.
Oh, that awful thing! It sounds like it was twenty feet long, and it's
thrashing all over the room. Oh, my God! What a scare I've had! Oh, you
needn't look at me innocent like that, you two. You're in for it, or my
name ain't Jennie Bloomer. Call a posse, Anderson, and surround the
hotel. Thank Heaven, the door of that room is locked, but goodness knows
how soon it will be crawlin' through the transom."

At that instant she discovered that her skirt was almost touching the
big black box on the floor. Emitting a sharp squeal, she gave an
elephantine leap to the shelter of Anderson's arms, almost bowl