“You are acquainted, perhaps, with the effects of cobra venom?” their captor asked. “It is a deadly neurotoxin which paralyzes the nerves of breathing. The victim strangles or dies of heart failure.”
He held the snake close to Tom, whose forehead grew clammy with perspiration.
“There is, of course, an antidote to the venom,” the Eurasian went on. “What a pity if we should fail to administer it in time!”
Bud stifled a cry of horror as he saw the man drape the cobra over Tom’s shoulder. The young inventor did not flinch.
Slowly, the snake crawled over Tom’s left arm, then upward across his chest.
Tom stood like a carved statue. The snake paused, its head weaving back and forth close to Tom’s face. Gradually its puffed-out hood subsided to normal size.
Then it coiled around Tom’s shoulders and relaxed docilely.
The Eurasian’s eyes showed grudging admira—
124 THE ASTEROID PIRATES
tion. “Bravo! A remarkable exhibition of courage.” Removing the cobra, he returned it to the basket.
“That is enough of a test for the moment, I think. But let me add that I am an expert on snake poisons. It is most entertaining to observe the agonizing variety of symptoms they can produce. Perhaps you would like to see some of these venoms tried out on your friend, eh?”
Bud and Tom exchanged quick, fearful glances as the Black Cobra watched them closely.
“That is what will happen, my dear Tom Swift,” he continued, “if your stubbornness persists. But enough for now! I have much to do. I shall leave you time to reflect on what I have said.”
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