“You haven’t thwum yet, but if you thtep into that hole you will have the pleathure of thwimming,” warned Tommy, for the guide had been edging closer and closer to the opening in the bridge floor.  He drew back a step.

The driver had recovered sufficiently to note the distressing condition of his horses.  Now he limped toward them.  “They’re goners!” he groaned.

“I don’t believe it,” answered Jane shortly.  “They will be, if you don’t do something.  Why don’t you get them out?”

“How can I?” moaned the poor fellow.

Jane started to speak, but a loud “Hoo-e-e-e” from the far end of the bridge caused her to pause.  The call was repeated.  Then they heard Harriet running toward them.

“Look out for holes in the floor!” yelled Crazy Jane.  “You can’t tell anything about this perforated old bridge.  Come back here, Tommy Thompson!” Tommy had started to run to meet Harriet.  Margery grabbed and pulled her back.  Tommy jerked away angrily, but this time it was Jane McCarthy who laid a firm grip on the little girl’s arm.  “You stay right here.”  Jane lifted her voice in a prolonged call.

Harriet Burrell answered in kind.  A moment later Harriet came running up to them, dripping from her unexpected plunge into the river.

“Was any one hurt?  Oh, I’m so glad!” as a quick glance told her that all of her companions were there.  “Oh, those poor horses!”

“Buthter thought thhe wath killed, but after I told her thhe wath all right, thhe felt better,” observed Tommy, with a sidelong glance at Margery.

“Just as though I’d pay any attention to what you say,” retorted Margery, her chin in the air.  “You talk entirely too much.”

“I’m so glad you weren’t hurt, Harriet,” said Hazel, “but I’m sorry you are so wet.”

The water was running in little rivulets from Harriet’s clothing.  But her interest was centered not on herself but on the two men who were standing by the groaning horses, trying to decide what could be done to get the animals out.  Miss Elting slipped an arm about Harriet’s waist.

“How thankful I am that you are safe,” whispered the guardian, kissing Harriet impulsively.

“The water was very cold,” shivered Harriet.  “I really didn’t know what had happened until I went in all over.”

“Were you thrown directly through the opening?” questioned the guardian.

“No.  I think I fell on a horse first.  I rolled off before I could get hold of anything to stop myself.  Then——­”

“Then you fell in,” finished Tommy.

“Yes, I did, and with unpleasant force.  Fortunately, the water was deep and the current not very swift.  But it was so dark that I couldn’t see which way to swim.  I found the direction of the shore by swimming across the current; otherwise I might have gone up or down stream, for I could distinguish nothing.  I touched bottom just a little way from where I fell in.  Had I struck just a little way to the right I think I should have been killed.  You girls are fortunate that you didn’t fall through the bridge.  Was any of you hurt?”