er you?"
questioned Jessie, and her face showed her anxiety.

"No, it retreated to the rocks further back," was the answer.

"Was it a poisonous snake?" asked Mrs. Basswood.

"I am sure I don't know."

"If there are snakes in these woods I don't think I'll care to go out
very much," commented Laura, with a shiver.

"Snakes will just spoil everything," added Jessie, dismally.

While the boys and girls were dressing the report of a shotgun rang
out.

"If that was Uncle Dunston shooting, he must have found Mr. Snake," were
Dave's words.

"I hope he did find the snake," answered Roger. "If that reptile was
left prowling around in this vicinity, none of the ladies would want to
go out."

"And I wouldn't care much about going out myself," added Luke.

Having finished dressing, the boys lost no time in following Dunston
Porter toward the rock which had been the goal of the swimming race.
They found the old hunter and traveler searching through the brushwood
back of the rocks.

"Did you get it, Uncle Dunston?" questioned Dave.

"I did," was the reply. "What's left of that snake is over yonder," and
Mr. Porter pointed with his hand. "I'm looking around here to see if
there are any more of them, but I rather fancy that is all there is."

The charge from the shotgun had fairly torn the reptile to pieces, for
when Dunston Porter had fired the snake had been coiled up, evidently
ready for an attack.

Arming themselves with clubs and stones, the boys joined Dunston Porter
in the hunt for more reptiles, but their search was unsuccessful; and a
little while later all returned to the bungalows.

"Did you find any other snakes?" asked Jessie, after she had been told
about the one that had been killed.

"No, and I don't think there are any others," answered Mr. Porter.

"Well, I hope there are not," put in Laura, "but if there are I wish you
had found them."

"We can't find what isn't there," said Luke, with a grin.

"Say, that puts me in mind of a story," burst out Shadow.

"Wow!" ejaculated Roger. "Here comes another!"

"Oh, say! this is a good one," pleaded the would-be story-teller. "It's
about an old college graduate who was a regular fiend for football. He
would undergo almost any hardship for the sake of getting to a game.
Well, one time there was a great contest on between two of the big
colleges, and although old Bixby nearly broke his back to get there, he
didn't arrive until late. 'Say, how is it goin