.

"Rattlesnakes!" I exclaimed. "Heavens! I'd die if I heard one, let
alone seeing it. A big rattler jumped at me one day, and I've never
recovered from the shock."

Plainly, Frank was delighted to hear of my antipathy and my unfortunate
experience, and he proceeded to expatiate on the viciousness of
rattlesnakes, particularly those of Arizona. If I had believed the
succeeding stories, emanating from the fertile brains of those three
fellows, I should have made certain that Arizona canyons were Brazilian
jungles. Frank's parting shot, sent in a mellow, kind voice, was the
best point in the whole trick. "Now, I'd be nervous if I had a sleepin'
bag like yours, because it's just the place for a rattler to ooze into."

In the confusion and dim light of bedtime I contrived to throw the end
of my lasso over the horn of a saddle hanging on the wall, with the
intention of augmenting the noise I soon expected to create; and I
placed my automatic rifle and .38 S. and W. Special within easy reach
of my hand. Then I crawled into my bag and composed myself to listen.
Frank soon began to snore, so brazenly, so fictitiously, that I
wondered at the man's absorbed intensity in his joke; and I was at
great pains to smother in my breast a violent burst of riotous
merriment. Jones's snores, however, were real enough, and this made me
enjoy the situation all the more; because if he did not show a mild
surprise when the catastrophe fell, I would greatly miss my guess. I
knew the three wily conspirators were wide-awake. Suddenly I felt a
movement in the straw under me and a faint rustling. It was so soft, so
sinuous, that if I had not known it was the lasso, I would assuredly
have been frightened. I gave a little jump, such as one will make
quickly in bed. Then the coil ran out from under the straw. How subtly
suggestive of a snake! I made a slight outcry, a big jump, paused a
moment for effectiveness in which time Frank forgot to snore--then let
out a tremendous yell, grabbed my guns, sent twelve thundering shots
through the roof and pulled my lasso.

Crash! the saddle came down, to be followed by sounds not on Frank's
programme and certainly not calculated upon by me. But they were all
the more effective. I gathered that Lawson, who was not in the secret,
and who was a nightmare sort of sleeper anyway, had knocked over Jim's
table, with its array of pots and pans and then, unfortunately for
Jones had kicked that innocent person in the s