seemed to be bound tightly
round his head."

"I took a step forward. In an instant his strange head-gear began
to move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squat,
diamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent..."

"Ugh!" said Squiffy.

He closed the book and put it down. His head was aching worse than ever.
He wished now that he had read something else. No fellow could read
himself to sleep with this sort of thing. People ought not to write this
sort of thing.

His heart gave a bound. There it was again, that hissing sound. And this
time he was sure it came from the window.

He looked at the window, and remained staring, frozen. Over the sill,
with a graceful, leisurely movement, a green snake was crawling. As
it crawled, it raised its head and peered from side to side, like a
shortsighted man looking for his spectacles. It hesitated a moment on
the edge of the sill, then wriggled to the floor and began to cross the
room. Squiffy stared on.

It would have pained Peter deeply, for he was a snake of great
sensibility, if he had known how much his entrance had disturbed the
occupant of the room. He himself had no feeling but gratitude for the
man who had opened the window and so enabled him to get in out of the
rather nippy night air. Ever since the bag had swung open and shot him
out onto the sill of the window below Archie's, he had been waiting
patiently for something of the kind to happen. He was a snake who took
things as they came, and was prepared to rough it a bit if necessary;
but for the last hour or two he had been hoping that somebody would do
something practical in the way of getting him in out of the cold. When
at home, he had an eiderdown quilt to sleep on, and the stone of the
window-sill was a little trying to a snake of regular habits. He crawled
thankfully across the floor under Squiffy's bed. There was a pair of
trousers there, for his host had undressed when not in a frame of mind
to fold his clothes neatly and place them upon a chair. Peter looked the
trousers over. They were not an eiderdown quilt, but they would serve.
He curled up in them and went to sleep. He had had an exciting day, and
was glad to turn in.

After about ten minutes, the tension of Squiffy's attitude relaxed. His
heart, which had seemed to suspend its operations, began beating again.
Reason reasserted itself. He peeped cautiously under the bed. He could
see nothing.

Squiffy was convinced. He t