Will gave it a careful examination.
“Looks to me as if the brace-strings were wrong,” said he, resuming his low whistle, which was an indication that he was much interested in the problem. “They don’t balance the kite right, you see. There, that’s better,” he continued, after changing the position of the cords; “let’s try it now. I’ll hold it, Ted, and you run.”
Theodore at once took the cord, which Will had swiftly untangled and rolled into a ball, and stood prepared to run when the kite was released. Next moment he was off, and the kite, now properly balanced, rose gracefully into the air and pulled strong against the cord, which Theodore paid out until the big kite was so high and distant that it looked no bigger than your hand.
Ted could manage the kite now while standing still, and the other children all rushed to his side, with their eyes fastened upon the red speck in the sky.
“Thank you, Will,” said Theodore.
“That’s all right,” answered Will, indifferently; “all it needed was a little fixing. You could have done it yourself, if you’d only thought about it. How’s the sick kitten, Annabel?”
“Fine,” said the girl. “The medicine you gave me made it well right away.”
“Oho!” cried Reginald, joyfully, “he gave Annabel medicine to cure a sick kitten!”
“I’ll give you some for a sick puppy, Reggie,” said Will, grinning.
The kite-flyers were now standing in a group near a large bed of roses at the side of the house, and none of them, so intent were they upon their sport, had noticed that Mrs. Williams had come upon the lawn with a dainty basket and a pair of shears to gather flowers. So her voice, close beside them, presently startled the children and moved the inattentive nurse to spring up and hide her book.