Alf came back, looking much pleased.
"Let me feel your pulse," requested Reade. "Now, let me see your
tongue."
This much accomplished, Tom next turned down the under lid of
one of young Drew's eyes and gazed at the lack of red there displayed.
"I see," remarked Reade gravely, "that your nerves are going all
to pieces."
"I feel fine," asserted Alf stolidly.
"You must, with your nerves in the state I now find them," retorted
the young engineer. "Next thing I know you'll be hearing things."
Click-ick-ick!
"Wow-ow-wow!" shrieked Alf Drew, bounding some ten feet away from the
low bush near which he had been standing.
Click-ick-ick-ick!
"Get away from that bush, Mr. Reade!" howled the young cigarette
fiend. "That rattler will bite you, if you don't."
"I didn't hear any rattler," said Tom gravely. "Did you, Harry?"
"Not a rattle," said Hazelton soberly.
Jim Ferrers looked on and grinned behind Alf's back. The youngster
was trembling. As Tom came near him the "rattle" sounded again.
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