And, finally, I remember going off to bed on the couch in the living room while Paw stood by with the lantern in his hand. I took off my jacket and hung it on a chair back and then took off my shoes and put them on the floor, squared and neatly placed. Then, loosening my tie, I lay down upon the couch and, as he'd said, it was comfortable.

"You'll get a good night's sleep," said Paw. "Barney always slept here when he came to visit us. Barney in here and Sparky out there in the kitchen."

And suddenly, as those names soaked into my mind, I, had it! I struggled to arise and I did get part way up. "I know who you are now," I shouted at him. "You are Snuffy Smith, the one that was with Barney Google and Sparkplug and Sunshine and all the rest of them in the comic strip."

I tried to say more, but I couldn't and it didn't seem too important really, nor too remarkable.

I collapsed back on the couch and lay there and Snuffy went away, taking the lantern with him and on the roof above me I heard the pattering of rain.

I went to sleep with the patter of the rain.

And woke up with rattlesnakes….

2

Fear saved me—a brutal, numbing fear that froze me for that few seconds which allowed my brain to take in the situation and assess it and decide on a course of action.

The deadly, ugly head reared above my chest, pointing down into my face and in a fraction of a second, in so short a time that only a high-speed camera could have caught the action, it could have struck, with the curved and vicious fangs erected for the strike. If I had moved, it would have struck. But I did not move because I could not move, because— the fear, instead of triggering my body into instant reflex action, stiffened me and froze me, the muscles knotted, the tendons rigid, and gooseflesh popping on my skin.