before leaving for a new domain.
She would probably take the Jewel Tree with her. I can't imagine a
woman leaving a thing like that behind. He paused, remembering. She
held a spray of jeweled flowers in her hand, maybe off the Tree, and I
never saw anything like it. Well, can't do a thing until dusk comes
down.

The evening was not long in coming, and Chris, who had been sitting
cross-legged under the little crooked pines, looked across with great
concern to where Amos lay on his back, dozing.

I can't take him along, Chris thought, and I can't leave him alone, if
I should get caught. What in the world do I do?

Then, remembering the bag of magic "odds and ends," Chris put his hand
inside it and drew out a small folded piece of silk and netting. On it
a piece of paper, like a label, showed Mr. Wicker's fine script. Chris
looked closer and read: "Strike 3."

"Strike 3."

Chris held the folded object in his hand, and then glanced at Amos.
Amos slept. Going softly out of the pine grove to a narrow ledge of
rock where he was out of sight, Chris put the object down and said:
"Strike three."

Nothing happened. The object remained an object. Then, suddenly
understanding, Chris struck the stone ledge three times.

At once the folded object began to unfold itself and to puff itself
up like a little mushroom. In a matter of seconds, Chris could see
what it was becoming, and before he could wink ten times, a balloon
with a basket hanging from it, quite big enough for two boys, hung
swaying in the air. Chris examined it with pleasure and then struck
the ground three times again. The balloon gently collapsed and
refolded itself, basket and all, into its original neat shape.

[Illustration]

"Now, if that isn't handy!" Chris exclaimed. Then, looking at the
light fading from the sky, he picked up the folded balloon and went to
waken Amos.

"Amos!" he said, shaking his friend's shoulder, "it's time for me to
go. Are you awake?"

Amos blinked a few times and said he thought so.

"Then listen to me," Chris told him earnestly, "and listen hard!" Amos
sat up more alertly.

"I have a handy thing here which is for you to use only--do you hear?
_only_ if I don't come back."

Amos's eyes began to get brighter and he swallowed.

"Don't come _back_? Law! Chris, don't you leave me in this heathen
country where nobody understands good English!" he cried. "Why, unless
I'd steal, and Miss Becky told me _never_ to do that--but un