d gained his end. After that might come a
short respite for the victim.

Lennon next recalled all he knew about snakes and their poison glands.
After that he closed his eyes and relaxed both mentally and physically.
The cool of nightfall had somewhat eased his thirst and the ache from
the strain of the rawhide lines on his shoulders. He dozed off to
sleep.

He was so far spent and his last thought so calm that he slept soundly
all night. But the chill damp of dewfall roused him at the first graying
of dawn. To the shivering of his cramped body from the cold was soon
added a shudder of fear and loathing. Against his head, just above the
forehead, was pressed a cold hard object--the snout of the rattlesnake.

But the reptile was too torpid from the cold to strike. After a time the
slight moistening of the rawhide by the dew enabled Lennon to force
himself back nearly an inch. This was at sunrise. Slade came to gloat at
his struggle.

"Go it," he mocked. "Wiggle while you can. Both them lines and the
rattler'll git busy soon's the sun hets up a bit. Excuse me while I
feed. I'll git back in time for the fun."

The breakfast fire was beside a patch of thorn scrub several yards away.
Lennon watched until his enemy had sat down on the sand opposite the
Navahos. He then lifted his head.

The first rays of the sun had begun to warm the snake. At Lennon's
movement it stirred sluggishly. The dull eyes began to brighten with the
glare of returning life and anger. Lennon dropped his head forward.

Enraged by the feigned attack, the snake struck. The long fangs came so
near their mark that Lennon felt them or the snout pass through his
hair. Spurts of venom from the overcharged poison glands sprayed in
against his scalp.

For the second time since being pegged out Lennon felt his skin go
clammy with cold sweat. His flesh crept with horror. Death had grazed
him by a fraction of an inch. Another stroke might break or loosen the
snake's bond. Yet he nerved himself again and shook his head from side
to side.

The movement roused the snake to fury. It lashed out in stroke after
stroke. But the very excess of the reptile's anger quickly exhausted its
strength. The hideous head flattened down on the sand.

A sideward glance told Lennon that his deadly play had not been heeded
by Slade and the Navahos. But he knew he had no time to spare. He filled
his parched mouth with sand and raised his head. The snake did not move.

Lennon