Paul looked down fearfully, and the eyes of the biggest of the wolves met his, and held him as if he were charmed. The wolf began to whine and lick his lips, and Paul felt an insane desire to throw himself down.
"Stop it, Paul!" Henry cried sharply.
Paul jerked his eyes away, and shuddered from head to foot.
"He was asking me to come," he said hysterically, "and I don't know how it was, but for a moment I felt like going."
"Yes and a warm welcome he would have given you," said Henry still sharply. "Remember that your best friend just now is not Mr. Big Wolf, but Mr. Big Beech Tree, and it's a wise boy who sticks to his best friend."
"I'm not likely to forget it," said Paul.
He shuddered again at the memory of the terrible, haunting eyes that had been able for a brief moment to draw him downward. Then he clasped the friendly tree more tightly in his arms, and Henry smiled approval.
"That's right, Paul," he said, "hold fast. I'd a heap rather be up here than down there."
Paul felt himself with his hand.
"I'm all in one piece up here," he said, "and I think that's good for a fellow who wants to live and grow."