After an exciting and somewhat heated discussion, the boys finally arrived at a satisfactory decision as to the best way of getting Gladys up into a tree, and, in the midst of much chaffing and some wrangling, a rustic bench was drawn to the foot of a gnarled old apple tree, and the difficult task was begun. "Oh, dear!" ejaculated Willie, very red and very warm, "She's a terrible heavy bird." They were in a perilous position, and Gladys' burst of laughter nearly brought them all to the ground. "Guess I eated too many worms," she said. When at last she was safely perched on a projecting branch, Willie clambered down and drew away the bench, and Larry, sitting astride another branch, assumed the rôle of master of ceremonies. "Now, little bird," he said authoritatively, "I ain't goin' to bring you any more worms to eat, an' you just got to learn to fly yourself. You must flap your wings like this, an' when I count three you must fly away." Gladys' first attempt to follow these instructions nearly upset her, but she regained her balance and gripping tight hold of an overhanging limb turned a troubled face toward her brother. "I guess my wings is gwowed w'ong." "Cause there ain't any feathers on 'em, I s'pose," giggled Larry. This sally proved too much for Gladys, and flinging back her head she burst into a merry peal of laughter. In her sudden movement her little hands lost their hold on the limb, and plunging forward she fell heavily to the ground. One sharp cry and then the child lay still and silent, her little white face upturned. "Oh!" gasped Willie, "p'r'aps she's broke her wings." Larry slipped quickly down from the tree, and leaned anxiously over his little sister's prostrate form. "Get up, Gladys," he pleaded, and then, as the child did not stir, he began to cry piteously. For an instant Willie stood irresolute, his hands tightly clinched, his ruddy face grown pale with fear. "I'm going to find Jean," he said, and turned and started on a run toward the shrubbery. Larry caught hold of him and clung to him in an agony of fear. "I'm awfully scared, Willie. Please don't leave me." Willie shook him off impatiently, and pointed a reproachful finger to where Gladys lay in an unnatural stillness, and then, without another word, he was gone. * * * * *