"What had the football to do with it?" asked Ella. "Do tell us about it, Garry. We're awfully curious to know how you got in that tree! Aren't we, Jane?" Jane nodded. "Well, you see," began Garry gravely, "I rather felt the need of some setting up exercises--" "Yes, you did, after having an airplane fall on you yesterday!" scoffed his twin. "Nick was telling me about that," put in Jane. "It must have been thrilling." "Well, it might have been," responded Garry doubtfully; "only we didn't happen to think of it that way--" "But what happened just now in Mr. Fish's cedar tree?" Ella broke in impatiently. "That's what I'm waiting to know." "Patience, little one," soothed Garry. "I was trying to tell you. I wanted some exercise. My daily dozen isn't enough for me. So first of all, I kicked the football to the top of old Fish's chimney--" "Garry Grayson! You never!" cried both girls together. "Sure! It was easy. Some time I'll show you how I did it. And of course then I had to go for it. So we fellows dragged a ladder to the back of the Fish house--" "How did you dare?" cried Jane. "I'd have been afraid of that awful dog." "I'll tell you about him later," chuckled Garry. "Anyway, I got up the ladder and on to the roof and was just pushing the football off the chimney when old Fish yelled at me--" "And you jumped!" gasped Ella. "No," corrected Garry. "I rolled--right off the roof and into the branches of the cedar tree." "Garry! You never!" "I did," insisted Garry, as though the feat were something to be proud of. "I couldn't do it again if I tried. But this time I did. I don't know whether a branch caught my hand or my hand caught a branch, but, anyway, there I was, swinging in the air right over old Jacob's head." He then gave the particulars of what had followed. The picture of the malevolent old fellow's thwarted rage provoked the girls to glee, but Ella had a word of warning for her brother, nevertheless. "Roy may not bite you, but old Fish will if he gets a chance," she said, as she turned into her gate with Jane. "Next time you want exercise, you'd better kick your old football on some one else's chimney." Garry privately thought this was very good advice, though he outwardly scoffed at it. Jacob Fish, as hard as granite and already disliking boys in general, would have a private grudge against him especially and would do him mischief if he could. Garry's chums had been hovering around, waiting for him to get free from the girls, and now they descended upon him. "You're a fine bunch of quitters, you are!" Garry accosted them with mock indignation. "Take to your heels at the first sign of trouble! What kind of a way is that to treat a pal, I'd like to know!" "You were up a tree anyway, Garry," was Rooster's defense. "We knew you were safe." "I was up a tree, all right," conceded Garry. "Old Fish sure looked dangerous," put in Ted Dillingham.