Just like that man they used to have in the post office up at Orlando, who used to sit with his arms full of rattlesnakes and moccasins, and pet them." "Yes," said Gavin, absentmindedly, as he struggled against an almost overmastering impulse which was gripping him.

"I remember.

But at last one of his pets killed him.

He--" "How did you know ?" she asked, surprised.

"How in the world should a newcomer from the North know about--" "Oh, I read it in a Florida dispatch to one of the New York papers," he said, impatient at his own blunder.