to another, holding it out as far as he could reach toward the girl
nearest him. He stood braced in the fork, held firmly by one hand
--the other, swinging his bright temptation, reached far out
along the bough, but not quite to his full stretch.

She was visibly moved, I noted, hesitated, spoke to her companions.
They chattered softly together, one evidently warning her,
the other encouraging. Then, softly and slowly, she drew nearer.
This was Alima, a tall long-limbed lass, well-knit and evidently
both strong and agile. Her eyes were splendid, wide, fearless,
as free from suspicion as a child's who has never been rebuked.
Her interest was more that of an intent boy playing a fascinating
game than of a girl lured by an ornament.

The others moved a bit farther out, holding firmly, watching.
Terry's smile was irreproachable, but I did not like the look in his
eyes--it was like a creature about to spring. I could already see
it happen--the dropped necklace, the sudden clutching hand, the
girl's sharp cry as he seized her and drew her in. But it didn't
happen. She made a timid reach with her right hand for the gay
swinging thing--he held it a little nearer--then, swift as light,
she seized it from him with her left, and dropped on the instant
to the bough below.

He made his snatch, quite vainly, almost losing his position
as his hand clutched only air; and then, with inconceivable rapidity,
the three bright creatures were gone. They dropped from the
ends of the big boughs to those below, fairly pouring themselves
off the tree, while we climbed downward as swiftly as we could.
We heard their vanishing gay laughter, we saw them fleeting