"There are none of that kind on this part of the Indian Smoke
Range," Reade rejoined. "Come along with me."

There was something mildly though surely compelling in Tom's
manner. Alf Drew went along, though he didn't wish to. The two
were just at the fringe of the thick underbrush when there came
a warning sound just ahead of them.

Click! cl-cl-click!

"Whee! Me for outer this!" gasped Alf, going whiter than ever
as he turned. But Tom caught him by the shoulder.

"What's the matter?" demanded Reade.

Click cl-cl-click!

"There it is again," cried Alf, in fear.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Tom demanded.

Once more the dread sound smote the air.

"Rattlers!" wailed Drew, perspiring from fear. "Lemme get away
from this."

"Nonsense!" retorted Reade, retaining a strong clutch on the boy's
shoulder, though once more the sound reached their ears.

"It's all your nerves, Alf," Tom insisted. "You just imagine such