“Are you going up there, Slady?” Hervey whispered excitedly, as if ready to start.
“No, not yet. We’re going to find out something about the sweater first.”
“No one is in this but just you and I, hey?”
“And Llewellyn and Orestes. Now listen, I want you to climb up this tree and don’t scare the bird whatever you do. You can climb like a monkey. Don’t interfere with the nest, but feel with your fingers and see if you can give me an idea what that red streak is made of. Don’t call down. All we know now is that Orestes and Llewellyn came from pretty near the same spot. Two little clews are better than one big one if they match. Go on now, beat it, and whatever you do don’t call down or I’ll murder you.”
Hardly a rustling of the branches Tom heard as the young scout ascended. One silent leaf fluttered down and blew in his face. That was all. A minute, perhaps two minutes, elapsed. Then Tom saw the agile form slowly descending the dark trunk.
“I’d make a good sneak thief, hey?” Hervey whispered.
“You’re a wonder on climbing,” Tom said, with frank admiration.
“It’s kind of like worsted, Slady,” Hervey whispered, as he brushed the bark from his clothing. “It’s all woven in with other stuff but it feels like—sort of like worsted. I put my flashlight on it, it’s faded—”
“I know it is,” Tom said, “but it was bright red when we first saw it and that’s what makes me think it hasn’t been in the nest long. I don’t believe it had been there more than a couple of days or so when we found the nest. All I want to know now is whether it’s wool, or anything like that. You think it is?”
“Sure it is.”