others. At the end of the hallway they found a bellboy perched on a hat-rack, nursing a nipped finger.
"He wanted to swaller me!" shrieked the bellboy. "Take him away! Shoot him! He'll kill us all!"
The alarm had brought the proprietor of the hotel to the scene, and for a moment he thought of shooting the snapping turtle.
"I wanted to keep him alive a few days," said he. "We have a big dinner next Tuesday, and I wished to use him then, for a special kind of soup the cook is going to make."
"Let us get the crate," whispered Dave to Buster. "We ought to get him back into it, if we can."
"Excuse me," was the answer. "If he gets hold of you——"
"He is going into the storeroom!" cried a waiter standing near.
"I'll lock him in," said the hotel man.
While he was speaking the turtle turned to a corner of the storeroom. Catching up the crate, Dave flung it over the ugly creature. Then, taking a cane from the hat-rack, he shoved it under the turtle and pinned him fast down in the crate.
"Good for you!" cried the hotel man. "That's the way to fix him."
