I'll go up alone."

"Don't be such a fool, Jack," said Valentine; "there won't be any eggs
or young birds in the nest now."

"Never mind; I should like to have a look at it."

Fenleigh J. of the Upper Fourth was a young gentleman not easily turned
from his purpose, and, in spite of Valentine's warning and the
entreaties of his girl cousins, he lowered himself down on to the
ledge, and the next moment was buttoning his coat preparatory to making
the attempt.

For the first twelve or fifteen feet the trunk of the fir afforded no
good hold, but Jack swarmed up it, clinging to the rough bark and the
stumps of a few broken branches. The spectators held their breath; but
the worst was soon passed, and in a few seconds more he had gained the
nest.

"There's nothing in it," he cried; "but there's a jolly good view up
here, and, I say, if you want a good, high dive into the river, this is
the place. Come on, Raymond; it's worth the fag."

"Oh, do come down!" exclaimed Helen. "It frightens me to watch you."
She turned away, and began picking moon daisies, when suddenly an
exclamation from Valentine caused her to turn round again.

"Hallo! what's the matter?"

Jack had just begun to slip down the bare trunk, but about a quarter
way down he seemed to have stuck.

"My left foot's caught somehow," he said. "I can't get it free."

He twitched his leg, and endeavoured to regain the lower branches, but
it was no good.

"Oh, do come down!" cried Helen, clasping her hands and turning pale.
"Can't any one help him?"

Jack struggled vainly to free his foot.

"Look here," he said in a calm though strained tone, "my boot-lace is
loose, and has got entangled with one of these knots; one of you chaps
must come up and cut it free. Make haste, I can't hang on much longer."

[Illustration: "'Make haste! I can't hang on much longer.'" (missing
from book)]

Valentine turned to Raymond.

"You can climb," he said; "I can't."

"I'm not going up there," answered the other doggedly, and turned on
his heel.

Valentine wheeled round with a fierce look upon his face, threw off his
coat, took out his knife, opened it, and put it between his teeth.

"O Val!" cried Helen in a choking voice, and hid her face in her hands.
Only Barbara had the strength of nerve to watch him do it, and could
give a clear account afterwards of how her brother swarmed up the
trunk, and held on with one arm while he cut the tangled lace.
Valentine him