The Mystery at Number Six | Page 2

patience for another chance, and Bernice settled down again, watching him idly. Every little while she drew a long breath of content and snuggled down closer into the hot white sand. On the opposite side of the pool was an ancient orange-grove and the scent of orange-blossoms was wafted to her with every puff of wind.
"Oh, I'm glad I've come to live in Florida!" she sighed aloud. Then she continued to meditate on the very opportune opening that had come to her father, who was not very well, to settle in Florida near his brother in the phosphate region and give his engineering knowledge to the mining interests. Her cousin Sydney had lived in Florida for several years, but she was having her first taste of it in the last glorious month. Every afternoon she and her cousin had spent in the little Ford, exploring the country far and wide.
While she watched now, Sydney raised his rifle for another shot and again missed. "Fired too low!" he called back in explanation and roamed on. Neither of them noticed a lithe little figure gliding behind them from bush to bush, keeping always in the shadow of some protecting shelter and watching them with alert and mystified interest. It would have been a cause of considerable astonishment to them to know they were so closely observed. They did not suppose there was any one within miles of their vicinity.
Presently Bernice scrambled up and announced that she was going to explore the other side of the pool where the orange-grove was, and sauntered off around the edge on her quest. The figure behind the bushes followed noiselessly, keeping always unseen among the scrub palmetto growths. And Bernice, totally unaware of being followed or spied upon, rambled happily along. In the grove she found three oranges hanging within reach, although the new blossoms were on the same trees (a combination that never failed to astonish her!), and resting under one of the trees she ate two, saving the biggest for Sydney when he should arrive at that point. Then she roamed on again.
"O Sydney!" she called back, suddenly and excitedly, "do you know there's an old farmhouse here? I didn't suppose there was a house within miles of this place."
"I know; it's an old deserted one," he called back. "Hasn't been inhabited for years. I've seen it once or twice when I've been here before."
"But it's inhabited now!" insisted Bernice. "There's smoke coming out of the chimney and some plants growing in pails and boxes on the porch."
"That's queer!" he replied "The place hasn't been lived in for ages. It's all tumble-down. Wait till I get around there and see it with you." The quiet figure behind the palmetto scrub seemed more on the alert than ever, and sat motionless, watching with half-anxious, half-wondering eyes.
Sydney lingered several moments to obtain a shot at another tempting fish, and this time waded out, his prize in his grasp. But as his foot touched the bank Bernice heard him give an astonished shout, and looked up to see him struggling desperately with something that was slashing and beating itself about in a furious encounter with him. Without an instant's delay she rushed around the edge of the pool to his assistance.
"Don't come near!" he called to her, thumping and laying about him with the butt of his rifle. "It's a horrible snake!" He stopped talking, for lack of wind and because every energy was needed to ward off his assailant. It was indeed a snake, as Bernice could plainly see for herself, neither a rattler nor a moccasin, but a hideous creature that was growing steadily bigger and longer and more venomous and horrible in appearance as she watched. It was like nothing she had ever dreamed of or heard of before--an awful nightmare,--to see the reptile grow visibly, before her very eyes.
"Oh, run, Sydney, run!" she implored. "Don't try to fight it. Just get out of its reach!"
"I can't!" he panted. "The horrid thing comes after me whenever I try. I've got to kill it!" He lunged at it again with the butt of his gun and gave a groan of pain, dropping his rifle from the hand that the snake had injured. In the same instant, the reptile itself, as if satisfied with the damage it had done, slid noiselessly away into the long grass by the pool's edge.
"O Sydney!" cried Bernice in an agony of apprehension. "What shall we do? The creature has stung you. We're miles from home or a doctor! Is it as poisonous as a rattler or a moccasin, do you think?"
"I don't know," muttered the boy, staring down almost stupidly at his wounded wrist. In reality he was a little stunned and stupefied the suddenness of the attack and the