"Let's go over and take a look," suggested Jim.

Clara demurred at first and so did Mabel. They were used to seeing snakes behind a network of wire and gla.s.s, and they did not relish the idea of standing within a few feet of the crawling serpents in the open street.

But curiosity, added to the urgings of the young men, finally conquered, and they joined the throng on the other side.

The performer, an old man with bronzed face, was squatting on his haunches playing a weird tune on a reedy instrument resembling a flute. Before him was upreared a monstrous specimen of the deadly cobra species, swaying gently to and fro and keeping time to the music. Its malignant eyes looking out from the broad head whose markings resembled a pair of spectacles had lost something of their fiery sparkle, and a slight haze spread over them, as though the creature were under a spell.

The music continued and two other snakes crawled out as if in response to a call and joined their companion in his swaying, rhythmic dance. Then the tune changed, the snakes uncoiled, and the performer took them up without the slightest fear and put them back in the basket.

"Suppose they should bite him!" exclaimed Mabel.

"He's had their fangs drawn already," returned Joe. "The old rascal's taking no chances."

"They say that a man lasts about half an hour after one of those fellows nips him," observed Jim. "Somebody was telling me that over twenty thousand natives are bitten by them every year."

A little further down the street, another fakir was giving an exhibition.

He placed a small native boy in a basket that was a tight fit and put down the basket cover. Then after making mysterious signs and muttering invocations, the fakir drew a long sword and plunged it through the basket from end to end. A scream of pain came from within, and when the sword was withdrawn it was red. Again and again this was repeated until the screams died away. Then the fakir lifted up the cover and the boy sprang out safe and sound, and, showing his white teeth in a smile, went around collecting coins from the bystanders.

They wandered further among the bazaars, making purchases of curios as presents for the folks at home and adding to their personal stock of mementos. Jim secured among other things a cane made of a rare Indian wood, which while light was exceedingly strong and so pliable that it could be bent almost double like a Damascus blade.

But through all the chaff and fun of the day Joe was unhappy and restless.

What he had read in the paper from home about himself poisoned everything for him.

He had always tried to be perfectly straight and honorable in all his business relations. His word had ever been as good as his bond. Now, at one stroke, he saw his reputation damaged perhaps beyond mending. All over the United States he had been pictured as a contract-breaker. He could see the incredulity of his friends turning gradually to contempt. He fancied he could hear them saying:

"So Joe has fallen for that game, has he? Well, they say that every man has his price. No doubt Joe's price was high, but they found out what it was and bought him."

Of course he had denied it, but he knew how people smiled when they read denials. And months must pa.s.s before he could get back to America and try to hunt out the author or authors of the story.

He tried to hide his mood under a cover of light talk and banter, but the others felt it and sympathized with him, though all refrained from mentioning what each of them was thinking.

All through the day his gloom persisted, and when night came and he had retired to the room that he and Jim occupied together he felt that it would be impossible for him to sleep.

"There's no use talking," said Jim with a yawn, as he set his cane so that it rested against the footboard and threw off his coat preparing to undress, "sight-seeing's the most tiring work there is. I feel more done up to-night than if I had been pitching in a hard game."

"I'm tired too," agreed Joe, "but I don't feel the least bit like sleep."

Jim was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. But Joe tossed about restlessly for what seemed to him to be hours. The night was very warm and all the windows were open to get what breath of air might be stirring.

A broad veranda ran all around the building, not more than two feet below the windows, and from the ground to the veranda rose a luxuriant tangle of vines and flowers.

The moon was at the full and its light flooded a part of the room, leaving the rest in deep shadow.

Joe at last dropped off into a doze from which he woke with a start.

He had heard nothing, but he had an uneasy consciousness that something was wrong.

He glanced over at Jim who was peacefully sleeping. Then he raised himself on his elbow and his glance swept the room.

Nothing seemed amiss in the lighted part, but in a darkened corner the shadow seemed to be heavier than usual. It was as though it were piled in a ma.s.s instead of being evenly distributed.

Then to Joe's consternation _the shadow moved_, reached the edge of moonlight, rose higher and higher with a sickening swaying motion. From a hideous head two sparks of fire glowed balefully and Joe knew that he was in the presence of a giant cobra!

CHAPTER XXVI

IN THE SHADOW OF THE PYRAMIDS

Joe's blood chilled with horror and his heart seemed for a moment to stop beating.

He did not dare to move and scarcely to breathe. He might have been a statue, so rigid was his att.i.tude. He knew that the least movement would provoke an attack on the part of the deadly reptile.

On the other hand, if he kept perfectly quiet, there was the chance of the snake gliding away through the window, which had evidently been its means of entering the room.

Whether the serpent saw him or not, Joe could not tell. The head swayed for a minute or two, while the glowing eyes seemed to take in every corner of the room. Then the coils unwound and with a slithering sound the snake began to crawl across the floor.

But instead of seeking the window it was gliding towards the bed!

If he had had a revolver Joe would have had a chance, for at such close range he could scarcely have missed. Even a knife to hurl, though only a forlorn hope, might have pinned the snake to the floor. But he was utterly without a weapon of any kind.

Suddenly he remembered the cane that his chum had leaned against the footboard a few hours earlier.

He reached down stealthily and his hand closed upon it.

He did not dare to wake Jim for fear that the latter might leap from the bed and perhaps land squarely on the gliding death that was somewhere in the room. He had lost sight of it, but he could still hear the dragging body and it seemed to be now under the bed. At any instant that awful head might rise on either side prepared to strike.

Gripping the cane until his fingers seemed to dig into it, Joe had a moment of awful suspense.

The gliding sound had ceased. Then from the side nearest Jim a hideous head uprose within a foot of the sleeping man's face.

Like a flash the tough cane hissed through the air with all Joe's muscle back of it. It caught the reptile full in the neck and sent it half way across the room where it lay writhing.

In an instant Joe had leaped to the floor, raining blows upon the head and floundering coils, until at last the reptile straightened out and lay still.

"What's the matter?" cried Jim, awakened by the tumult and jumping out of bed.

He turned pale as he saw the snake stretched out on the floor and Joe who, now that the awful strain was over, was leaning against the wall as limp as a rag.

Jim turned on the light and they viewed the monster, standing at a respectful distance from the head.

"He seems dead enough, but you can never be sure of a snake," said Joe, after in a few hurried words he had told of his experience. "Suppose, Jim, you get that Malay's knife out of my trunk and we'll make certain."

Jim brought the kriss, which Joe had kept as a memento of his struggle with the maniac, and with one stroke severed the cobra's head from his body.

"That knife never did a better bit of work," he commented as he washed it off. "Now let's get this thing out of the window and clear up the mess."