and took their places inside; nothing was to be seen but their feet,
huddled together on the branches. It took ten minutes for all the band
to assemble on high, but in less than two, down they squirmed again.
"What is the matter?" said Gem in astonishment; she had not expected
to see the B. B.'s for hours, absorbed as they would be in their leafy
abode.

"We're going to take up the dogs," said Tom, who came first; "we're
going to sling 'em up in a basket. It will be such fun, and they'll
like it first-rate."

"Oh, don't, Tom!" exclaimed Gem; "Turk is too big, Grip will be sure
to fall out, and it will make Pete Trone seasick."

But no attention was paid to her remonstrances, and the B. B.'s
inspired to new exertions, made numerous journeys up and down, rigging
a pulley and making various preparations for the aerial voyage. When
all was ready there was a discussion as to which dog should go. Turk
_was_ too big, no basket would hold him; and Grip, Tom said, had "no
common sense," and would not appreciate the situation. Pete Trone was
evidently the man for the place, and he jumped gayly into the basket
at Tom's command, without any suspicion of danger; and when he found
himself hanging in mid-air, he did not flinch, but settled down
resolutely on his haunches, looking over the side with one eye as much
as to say, "Who's afraid?"

"Didn't I tell you?" said Tom enthusiastically. "I knew Pete would
come out strong. It will take a good while to get him up there. I say,
boys, let's sing 'Up in a Balloon.' It will be appropriate to the
occasion."