. "No one would cut that sapling and
carry it away there and lean it up for nothing. I'll tell you! This is
one of Jack's marked trees. He's climbed up there above anyone's head,
peeled the bark, and cut into the grain enough to be sure. Then he's
laid the bark back and fastened it with that pole to mark it. You see,
there're a lot of other big maples close around it. Can you climb to
that place?"

"Yes," said Freckles; "if I take off my wading-boots I can."

"Then take them off," said the Angel, "and do hurry! Can't you see that
I am almost crazy to know if this tree is a marked one?"

When they pushed the sapling over, a piece of bark as big as the crown
of Freckles' hat fell away.

"I believe it looks kind of nubby," encouraged the Angel, backing away,
with her face all screwed into a twist in an effort to intensify her
vision.

Freckles reached the opening, then slid rapidly to the ground. He was
almost breathless while his eyes were flashing.

"The bark's been cut clean with a knife, the sap scraped away, and a big
chip taken out deep. The trunk is the twistiest thing you ever saw. It's
full of eyes as a bird is of feathers!"

The Angel was dancing and shaking his hand.

"Oh, Freckles," she cried, "I'm so delighted that you found it!"

"But I didn't," said the astonished Freckles. "That tree isn't my find;
it's yours. I forgot it and was going on; you wouldn't give up, and kept
talking about it, and turned back. You found it!"

"You'd best be looking after your reputation for truth and veracity,"
said the Angel. "You know you saw that sapling first!"

"Yes, after you took me back and set me looking for it," scoffed
Freckles.

The clear, ringing echo of strongly swung axes came crashing through the
Limberlost.

"'Tis the gang!" shouted Freckles. "They're clearing a place to make the
camp. Let's go help!"

"Hadn't we better mark that tree again?" cautioned the Angel. "It's away
in here. There's such a lot of them, and all so much alike. We'd feel
good and green to find it and then lose it."

Freckles lifted the sapling to replace it, but the Angel motioned him
away.

"Use your hatchet," she said. "I predict this is the most valuable tree
in the swamp. You found it. I'm going to play that you're my knight.
Now, you nail my colors on it."

She reached up, and pulling a blue bow from her hair, untied and doubled
it against the tree. Freckles turned his eyes from her and managed the
fastening with