“Oh!” he cried, and tried to sit up, when the rope glided over his breast and his shoulder. “A snake! A snake! Oh, I’m a dead boy!” And he leaped up, yelling like a wild Indian. Then the rope got twisted between his legs, and he danced around more madly than ever. “What’s the matter with you?” asked Harry, sitting up. At a signal Joe had let go of his thread and his brother had jerked the rope out of sight. “A snake! It crawled right over my face!” “Where is it?” questioned old Runnell, and grabbed up his gun. The lantern was lit, and also a torch, and they looked around; but, of course, no reptile could be found. “I guess you were dreaming,” said Joe, innocently. “You were talking about that other snake, you know.” “I—I don’t think so,” answered Fred, sheepishly. “There is no snake here,” said Joel Runnell, after a long examination. “Joe must be right; you dreamed it, Fred.” “Well, if I did, that dream was mightly life-like,” said Fred. He took the lantern and examined his bunk closely. But nothing was wrong, and after a while he followed the others and laid down again. Harry and Joe waited a reasonable length of time, and then Harry crawled forth to adjust the rope and threads once more. Again the rope slid over Fred’s face, and once more he set up a howl. “It’s a snake! I felt it again!” he yelled. “He’s right here in the bunk!” “Step on him!” cried old Runnell, and got his gun a second time. Harry tried to jerk the rope away, but before he could do so Fred came down on it with his bare foot. Then the threads broke, and the rope remained on the floor in front of the bunk, while Fred leaped away, as if he had stepped on a hot plate. Lantern in one hand and gun in the other, Joel Runnell ran to kill the snake. But when he saw the object on the floor he gave a loud laugh. “Call that a snake,” he roared. “It’s only a bit of rope.” “A—a rope?” repeated Fred. He bent forward. “Well, I never!” Then he caught sight of the broken threads, and like a flash realized the joke that had been played on him. “Oh, you—you rascals!” he cried, and catching up the rope, he went first for Harry, and then Joe, and belabored them soundly. Both were laughing, and this made Fred really angry. “All right, laugh all you please!” he burst out, suddenly. “It was a mean thing to do. To-morrow I’m going to leave you and go home.” And then, without a word more, he retired for the night. CHAPTER XVII A SEARCH AND A BEAR “Do you think he’ll really go?” whispered Harry to Joe. “I guess not, Harry. But he is mad, no doubt of that.” “I didn’t want to make him mad, Joe. And he hit me a pretty hard one over the shoulders, too.” “Fred hates to be fooled. Perhaps we had better talk to him about it.” “No; that will make him madder than ever.”