“But you girls must not stay here too long,” cautioned Miss Elting.

Suddenly Crazy Jane burst forth into a loud hurrah, and, running to the wagon, returned to the driver with a hand-saw.  By this time Margery, Tommy and Hazel had come cautiously back to where the horses were.

“Saw the timbers out from under the horses,” advised Jane.  “It may hurt them to drop into the river, but it’s better for them to drown than to be burned alive!  Move quickly, now!”

“Janus,” muttered the driver, “we’re a pair of mutton-heads!”

“We are,” agreed the guide, as he ran to get the other saw.

The rasping of the saws began instantly, the Meadow-Brook Girls moving closer to observe the work, casting frequent apprehensive glances over their shoulders at the thick cloud of smoke which issued from the farther end of the bridge.  The fire did not appear to be making much headway, still it did not seem to be abating.  Already the framework of that end of the bridge was outlined like the figure in a set piece of fireworks.  They could hear the crackling of the flames, and the wooden tunnel was becoming filled with smoke.  Tommy was coughing, to remind her companions that they were in need of other quarters.

“I don’t think I would cut the ends off,” suggested Harriet.  “Saw them nearly through, then cut the opposite ends.  Otherwise you may leave the animals dangling in the air with no means of helping them out.”

Janus nodded approvingly at Harriet’s suggestion.

“I reckon you’re right,” he agreed.  “Jim, tackle the other end.  We’ll let this near horse down first and see how he makes out.  If it works, we’ll drop the other fellow in the same way.”

A warning snapping sound was heard.

“Stand clear!” bellowed Janus.

The girls sprang back, and just in time.  Pieces of plank shot up into the air, one striking the bridge roof with a crash.  Then the near horse, with a neigh of fear, disappeared into the black water below them.  They heard a loud splash.  Harriet, leaning over, peered into the river.

“He’s swimming.  I can hear him,” she cried joyously.  “Isn’t that fine that you thought of that, Mr. Grubb?” she exclaimed, turning a flushed face to the guide.

“Huh!  Thought of it?  I’d never thought of it if I’d kept my thinking machine going for a hundred years.  Now the other horse, Jim.  We’ll have to step lively.  Them flames is getting too nigh for comfort.  Now you folks had better get out of here!” he commanded.

“Not yet,” smiled Harriet, “we still have work to do.  We must get the things out of the wagon.  If we lose them, we shall be in a fix.”

“Mercy!  I hadn’t thought of that,” cried the guardian.  “But shall we have time to carry them across?”

“The men will have to carry the heavier articles.  I think we shall be able to manage it.  Come, help me get the things out of the carry-all.”