Ruth was dressed for the rough outdoor life she was living.  She wore high, laced boots, a short skirt, knickerbockers, a blouse, and a broad-brimmed hat.

When she turned to face the turbulent stream the rocking timbers coming down with the released water almost filled the pool before the endangered girl.

Had she worn caulks on the soles of her boots, as did the foreman who had cut the boom, and been practised as he was in “running the logs,” Ruth would have stood a better chance of escaping the plunging avalanche.  As it was, she was not wholly helpless.

She had picked up a peavey one of the timbermen had left on this bank and was using is as a staff as she watched the “freshet” start.  Warned now of the danger she was in, the girl of the Red Mill seized this staff firmly in both hands and poised herself to leap from the boulder to which she had stepped.

Only a moment did she delay—­just long enough to select the most promising log in the smother of foam and water before her.  Then she leaped outward, striking down with the pike-staff and sinking its sharp point in the log to which she jumped.

Behind her the timbers poured down the bluff, landed on their splintering ends on the rocks, and then—­many of them—­pitched their long lengths into the angry river.

The spray flew yards high.  It curtained, indeed, all that occurred for the next few moments upon this side of the stream.  However much the scene, arranged by Jim Hooley might need the attention of the moving picture makers, here was a greater and more dangerous happening, in which Ruth Fielding was the leading participant!

CHAPTER XX

GOOD NEWS

Tragedy was very dose indeed at that moment to the girl of the Red Mill.  Many adventures had touched Ruth nearly; but nothing more perilous had threatened her than this.

She balanced herself on the rushing log with the help of the peavey.  She was more than ordinarily sure-footed.  But if the log she rode chanced to be hit by one of the falling timbers loosened from their station on top of the bluff—­that would be the end of the incident, and the end of the girl as well!

Perhaps it was well that Helen and Jennie could no longer see their chum.  The curtain of spray thrown up by the plunging logs from above hid the whole scene for several minutes.

Then out of the turmoil on the river shot the log on which Ruth stood, appearing marvelously to her friends on the other bank.

“Ruth!  Ruth Fielding!” shrieked Helen, so shrilly that her voice really could be heard.  “Are you alive?”

Ruth waved one hand.  She held her balance better now.  She shot a glance behind and saw Wonota in the canoe coming down the rapids amid the snags and drifting debris—­a wonderful picture!

Jim Hooley, almost overcome by the shock and fright, suddenly beheld his two camera men cranking steadily—­as unruffled as though all this uproar and excitement was only the usual turmoil of the studio!