"This is a joke right enough," murmured Sam. "Wonder who played it?"
"Do you think the girls would send a snake?" queried Larry.
"Of course not," answered Tom, who had scrambled up. "This is the work of some enemy."
"Look out! The snake is getting busy!" screamed Sam, and he was right; the reptile had left the shelter of the bed and was darting across the room, in the direction of Songbird.
The would-be poet did not stop to argue with his snakeship, but letting out a wild yell leaped to the top of a small stand which stood in a corner. The stand was frail and down it went with a crash, the wreckage catching the snake on the tail. It whipped around and made a lunge at Songbird's foot, but the youth was too nimble and leaped on the bed.
"We've got to kill that snake," observed Dick, after the reptile had disappeared for a moment under a washstand. "If we don't"
Crash! It was a plate which Sam shied at the snake, as its head showed for a moment. Then down went a shower of shoes, brushes, plates, and a cake of soap. But the snake was not seriously hurt. It hissed viciously and darted from one side of the dormitory to the other, and made all the boys climb up on the furniture.
