into a better locality--very fashionable. He's coming up in the world--I
mean down. _O-o-h, boy_, watch your step; there was a narrow escape! I
stepped on a chunk of air."

So he came down working his way with both feet and one hand, and holding
the precious piece of branch with its dangling nest in the other.

"Talk about your barbed wire entanglements," he called. Then, after a
minute, "This little codger lives in a swing," he shouted; "I should
think she'd get dizzy. No accounting for tastes, hey? Whoa--boy! There's
where I nearly took a double-header. If I should fall now, I wouldn't
have so far to go."

"You won't fall," said Tom with a note of admiring confidence in his
brief remark.

"Better knock wood," came the cheery answer from above.

And presently his trim, agile form stood upon the lowest stalwart limb,
as he balanced himself with one hand against the trunk. His khaki jacket
was in shreds, a great rent was in his sleeve, and a tear in one of his
stockings showed a long bloody scratch beneath. In his free hand he held
the piece of branch with its depending nest, extending his arm out so as
to keep the rescued trophy safe from any harm of contact.

"Some rags, hey?" he called down good-humoredly, and exposing his figure
in grotesque attitude for sober Tom's amusement. "If mother could only
see me now! Get out from under while I swing down. Back to terra
cotta--I mean firma. Here goes----"