ees are of uncertain fiber, and not to be
relied upon, and this particular balsam, breaking off short in Hughie's
hands, allowed him to go crashing through the branches to the earth.

"Man! man!" cried Davie Scotch, bending over Hughie as he lay white
and still upon the ground. "Are ye deid? Maircy me! he's deid," sobbed
Davie, wringing his hands. "Fusie, Fusie, ye gowk! where are ye gone?"

In a moment or two Fusie reappeared through the branches with a capful
of water, and dashed it into Hughie's face, with the result that the lad
opened his eyes, and after a gasp or two, sat up and looked about him.

"Och, laddie, laddie, are ye no deid?" said Davie Scotch.

"What's the matter with you, Scottie?" asked Hughie, with a bewildered
look about him. "And who's been throwing water all over me?" he added,
wrathfully, as full consciousness returned.

"Man! I'm glad to see ye mad. Gang on wi' ye," shouted Davie, joyously.
"Ye were deid the noo. Ay, clean deid. Was he no, Fusie?" Fusie nodded.

"I guess not," said Hughie. "It was that rotten balsam top," looking
vengefully at the broken tree.

"Lie doon, man," said Davie, still anxiously hovering about him. "Dinna
rise yet awhile."

"Oh, pshaw!" said Hughie, and he struggled to his feet; "I'm all right."
But as he spoke he sank down upon the moss, saying, "I feel kind of
queer, though."

"Lie still, then, will ye," said Davie, angrily. "Ye're fair obstinate."

"Get me some water, Fusie," said Hughie, rather weakly.

"Run, Fusie, ye gomeril, ye!"

In a minute Fusie was back with a capful of water.

"That's better. I'm all right now," said Hughie, sitting up.

"Hear him!" said Davie. "Lie ye doon there, or I'll gie ye a crack
that'll mak ye glad tae keep still."

For half an hour the boys lay on the moss discussing the accident fully
in all its varying aspects and possibilities, till the sound of wheels
came up the road.

"Who's that, Fusie?" asked Hughie, lazily.

"Dunno me," said Fusie, peering through the trees.

"Do you, Scotty?"

"No, not I."

Hughie crawled over to the edge of the brush.

"Why, you idiots! it's Thomas Finch. Thomas!" he called, but Thomas
drove straight on. In a moment Hughie sprang up, forgetting all about
his weakness, and ran out to the roadside.

"Hello, Thomas!" he cried, waving his hand. Thomas saw him, stopped, and
looked at him, doubtfully. He, with all the Section, knew how the school
was going, and he easily guessed what