“It’s running down the bank!” I cried, and we both plunged through the darkness for the brake-handle.  We fell over Ollie and Snoozer, and were instantly hopelessly tangled.  It seemed an age, with the wagon swaying more and more, before we found the handle.  Jack pushed it up hard, we heard the brake grind on the wheels outside; then there was a great bump and splash, and the wagon tilted half over and stopped.  We found Ourselves lying on the side of the cover, with cold water rising about us.  We were not long in getting out, and discovered that the Rattletrap was capsized in the mill-race.

“Old Blacky did it!” cried Jack, as he danced around and shook his wet clothes.  “I know he did.  The old sinner!”

We got out the lantern and lit it.  Only the hind end of the wagon was really in the race; one front wheel still clung to the bank, and the other was up in the air.  Ollie got in and began to pass things out to Jack, while I went up the hill after the horses.  Jack was right.  Old Blacky was evidently the author of our misfortune.  He had broken loose in some manner, and probably begun his favorite operation of making his toilet on the corner of the wagon by rubbing against it.  The brake had carelessly been left off, he had pushed the wagon back a few feet, and it had gone over the bank.  I soon had the harness on the horses, and got them down the hill.  We hitched them to the hind wheel with a long rope, Jack wading in the water to his waist, and pulled the wagon upright.  Then we attached them to the end of the tongue, and after hard work drew it out of the race.  By this time we were chilled through and through.  Our beds and nearly everything we had were soaking with water.

“How do you like it, Uncle Jack?” inquired Ollie.  “Do you feel that you are living now?”

Jack’s teeth were chattering.  “Y—­yes,” he said; “but I won’t be if we don’t get a fire started pretty quick.”

There were some timbers from an old bridge near by, and we soon had a good fire, around which we tramped in a procession till our clothes were fairly dry.  The wind was chilly, and it was a dark, cloudy morning.  The unfortunate Snoozer had gone down with the rest of us, and was the picture of despair, till Ollie rubbed him with a dry corner of a blanket, and gave him a good place beside the fire.

By the time two or three hours had elapsed we began to feel partially dry, and decided to start on, relying on exercise to keep ourselves warm.  We had had breakfast in the meantime, and, on the whole, were feeling rather cheerful again.  We opened the cover and spread out the bedding, inside and outside, and hung some of it on a long pole which we stuck into the wagon from the rear.  Altogether we presented a rather funny appearance as we started out along the trail, but no one paid much attention to us.  The freighters were already astir, and we were constantly passing or meeting their long trains.  Among others we passed Eugene Brooks, the man with whom we had taken dinner.  We told him of our mishap, and he laughed and said: