"It's a crow, you tenderfoot," jeered George. "Didn't you ever hear one before?"
"Harriet!" exclaimed Jane under her breath. "She has discovered where the boys are. She's giving me warning and I dare not answer her. What shall I do?"
"Yes, I have heard crows, but I never heard a crow with a voice like that," answered Larry. "I'll bet it's no more crow than I am."
Once more the crow cawed. This time the bird's voice sounded much farther away. Jane reasoned it out when she said to herself that Harriet had probably turned her head away or else had cawed in a lower tone to deceive the boys, who were now moving rapidly away, making as many circles as there were boys in the party.
Jane dared not get down from the tree, but she began moving about, seeking a better position from which she might look the ground over. If the boys got far enough away she might try to run, but then there was the probability of meeting their rivals, no matter which way she sought to escape.
The crow cawed again.
"I tell you that isn't a crow," shouted Larry.
"Go on, go on!" called George.
Jane listening intently, concentrating her attention on what was being said, rather than what she was doing, lost her footing. She grasped frantically for a limb and caught one. But the limb did not hold. It snapped and came away in her hand.