Then as he was about to bound forth into the glory of the sunset, he started back convulsively.
One moccasin had evidently sought outer air.

With this in view it had stretched itself along the crack of light at the foot of the door.

Now as the door flew wide the snake coiled itself to strike at the man who had all but stepped on it.
Down whizzed the narrow strip of iron Gavin had wrenched from the box as a possible weapon.

And, though the impact cut Brice's fingers afresh, the snake lay twisting wildly and harmlessly with a cloven spine.
Over the writhing body sprang Gavin Brice and out into the sandy open, filling his smoke-tortured lungs with the fresh sunset air and blinking away the smoke-damp from his stinging eyes.
It was then he beheld running toward him three men.

Far in the van was Roke--his attention no doubt having been caught by the smoke pouring through the ventilator.