"Well," continued Billy, "when Wilson woke up the next morning he realized what he was up against. But he was as game as a pebble, and though he knew the odds were against him he wouldn't back out. "The snake, that had been teased and irritated until it was bursting with rage, was dumped from its cage into a back room of the resort. Then Wilson, armed only with a long knife that they had lent him, went in and shut the door behind him, while the natives crowded around the windows to see the fight. "The instant the snake saw Wilson he reared up almost to the ceiling and flung himself at the man's throat. Wilson dodged and the fangs caught him in the shoulder. Wilson slashed savagely at the coils that were trying to coil themselves around his body and they staggered around the room. But the knife failed to reach a vital spot and finally one of the folds got around Wilson's legs and he fell to the floor, still stabbing savagely. The snake had won the first round, and it promised to be the last." There was a gasp from Billy's listeners but their interest was too tense to permit of any interruption. "Just then," continued Billy, "something happened. One of the natives who had a little more humanity than the rest of the crowd had sculled off to an American gunboat that was lying in the harbor, and told of the scrap that was going to be pulled off. The captain sent over a squad of marines with a rush and they got there just in time to break in the door and hack the snake to pieces with their cutlasses. Another minute and it would have been all over. As it was, Wilson was unconscious, and it was some weeks before he came around ship-shape." "What a daring thing that was to do!" ejaculated Frank. "He certainly was there with the nerve!" exclaimed Bart. "I'll bet he hasn't had any use for snakes since then," added Tom. "In one way it was a good thing," said Billy, "for it made Wilson swear off from drinking and he's never touched liquor since. You see how he is now, as steady as a church." "Well," commented Bart, "he'll have all the fighting he wants from now on." "Yes," agreed Frank with a laugh, "with snakes that wear helmets." "Look who's here, boys!" exclaimed Tom suddenly, as they saw four soldiers approaching with a prisoner under guard. "Why, it's Nick Rabig!" they exclaimed in unison as they recognized the burly figure that slouched sullenly along between the quartette guarding him. "What has he been up to, now, I wonder?" questioned Billy curiously as they sauntered forward to intercept the party. Rabig favored them with a scowl that had rarely been absent from his face since he had been caught in the draft. "What's the trouble?" asked Frank of the leader of the file, whom he happened to know. "Insubordination," was the terse response. "Refused to salute an officer." "Putting him in the jug on general principles," volunteered another, who was more communicative. "He's been shirking ever since he got here."