distended a male eye. She was somethin' to think about, and don't think she wasn't, and her bein' scared stiff didn't make her no homelier either. Ptomaine Joe just stood there and stared with his lower jaw restin' on his oversize chest and his eyes a couple of admirin' saucers.
Well, a crack with a stick on Mr. Snake's head ruined him, so that was all settled and we turned our attention to the girl. She was the picture of gratitude and thanked the handsome, smilin' Kid so prettily that both me and Ptomaine wished a couple of more snakes would come along so's we could do our stuff too. Then the Kid introduced us to the charmin' maiden and that led up to the important discovery that she was entitled Maida Vane. Now that we had rescued the damsel in distress like first-class heroes, I was anxious to shove off and drag Kid Roberts away from the influence of her hypnotizin' smile, but the Kid was in no more hurry to get under way than a drugged snail.
When Maida coyly remarked that she lived near by, Kid Roberts said it would be a good thought for us to escort her to her domicile in case the dead snake's friends should come lookin' for revenge. Maida flung the Kid a languishin' glance and O. K.'d his suggestion, with the results that the four of us started through the woods—Maida and Kid Roberts leadin' the way. It was a cinch that our girl friend thought the good-lookin', college-bred Kid was the bat's waistcoat and also that the romantic way they met had just about goaled her.
Well, to dwarf a tall story, we fin'ly arrived at a
