if you don't stop smoking cigarettes."

"Don't you believe it," muttered the boy, sullenly.

"Alf," smiled Tom, laying a hand gently on the boy's shoulder,
"you don't know me yet. You haven't any idea how I can hang to
a thing until I win. I'm going to keep hammering at you until
I make you throw your cigarettes away."

"I'm never going to stop smoking 'em," retorted Drew. "There
wouldn't be any comfort in life if I stopped."

"Is it as bad as that?" queried Tom, with ready sympathy. "Then
all the more reason for stopping. Come; let's finish our walk."

"Say, I don't want to go down and through that thick brush," objected
Alf Drew, slowing his steps.

"Why not?"

"Snakes!"

"Are you afraid of snakes, Alf?"

"Some kinds."

"What kinds?"

"Well, rattlers, f'r instance."