over Grayson's rhododendron.

I went up the ravine with him and
I climbed up behind him--Grayson
going very deliberately and whistling
softly. He called down to me when he
reached the shelf that looked half-way.

``You mustn't come any farther than
this,'' he said. ``Get out on that rock
and I'll drop them down to you.''

Then he jumped from the ledge and
caught the body of a small tree close
to the roots, and my heart sank at such
recklessness and all my fears rose again.
I scrambled hastily to the ledge, but I
could get no farther. I might possibly
make the jump he had made--but how
should I ever get back? How would
he? I called angrily after him now,
and he wouldn't answer me. I called
him a fool, a coward; I stamped the
ledge like a child--but Grayson kept
on, foot after hand, with stealthy
caution, and the purple cluster nodding
down at him made my head whirl. I
had to lie down to keep from tumbling
from the ledge; and there on my side,
gripping a pine bush, I lay looking up