Chapter IV: An Exciting Night

"Girls!" It was Miss Elting who called. "Oh, girls, are you hurt?"

"I'm killed. Thave me!" moaned Grace.

"I think I'm alive, but I'm not sure," cried Jane. "I've scraped the skin from my nose entirely. What a mess! what a mess!"

"Wait!" The guardian's voice was commanding. "Margery, Hazel!"

"Ye--es," answered two voices in chorus. They sounded far away.

"Harriet!" There was no reply. She repeated the call, but there was still no answer. Miss Elting became alarmed now. She was still sitting in the broken carry-all, to which she had clung desperately at the sudden stoppage, thus preventing herself from being hurled out, as had occurred to her charges. Thus far not a word had been heard from the two men. Now, a groan somewhere ahead attracted the teacher's attention.

"Girls, don't move! We do not know what has occurred. Does any of you know where Mr. Grubb is?"

"Yeth. He ith right here. I jutht touched hith whithkerth," answered Tommy in a weak, plaintive little voice. "I gueth he ith dead."

The guardian clambered from the rear of the carry-all. The lantern had been extinguished by the shock. She got down, carefully groping about in the blackness for the lantern. She uttered a little exclamation of thanksgiving when her fingers came in contact with it. But the chimney had been shattered by the shock. Only the lower part of it remained, just enough to shield the flame when once this should have been restored. It was but the work of a few seconds to relight the lantern. Miss Elting ran around to the front of the vehicle. She beheld a strange scene.

Both horses were down. At first they appeared to be lying on the floor of the bridge. A closer look showed the guardian that the forelegs of each animal had gone right through the floor. Then the further discovery was made that there was little flooring at this point. The planks that had once formed the floor at this particular spot lay piled on each side of the driveway. Only the beams held the horses from falling through to the water, a few feet below.

A short distance beyond lay Janus Grubb, sprawled on his back; while close beside him, lay the form of the driver. Margery and Hazel were sitting to the right, huddled in each other's arms. Tommy, white-faced, with her feet curled under her, sat close beside Janus, gazing down into his bewhiskered face. Jane McCarthy was leaning against one side of the bridge. Her own face had lost much of its usual color.

"Harriet!" gasped Miss Elting, "what has happened to her?"

Jane shook her head and pointed to the opening in the floor. The guardian understood. Harriet must have been hurled right through and down into the river.

"Girls! Look after the two men. Hurry!" She ran to the opening, then lying down, peered into the darkness. "Ha-r-r-r-i-et!"

"Hoo-e-e-e-e-e!"

The guardian sprang to her feet. It was unmistakably Harriet Burrell who had answered her, but the voice of the Meadow-Brook Girl had sounded far away. Miss Elting believed that the girl had succeeded in reaching the bank of the river. Jane had thrown herself down beside the unconscious guide and was at work making heroic efforts to bring him back to consciousness. The driver already was struggling to get to his feet. Tommy hopped up, and, hurrying to him, gave such assistance as her strength would permit.

The driver staggered; after walking a few steps he leaned against the side of the bridge with both hands pressed to his forehead. Tommy regarded him wonderingly. His head was still dizzy; he had no clear conception of what had occurred.

By this time the guardian had gone to Jane's assistance and was pressing a bottle of smelling salts to the nostrils of Janus Grubb. Janus twisted his head uneasily, as though to get away from the pungent odor of the salts.

"He will be all right in a few moments, I think. I wish we had some water," murmured Miss Elting.

Jane ran to the wagon. She returned with a rope and a pail. Tying the rope to the pail, she lowered the latter through the opening in the floor. A few moments later she presented a pail of water to Miss Elting, which the guardian sprinkled little by little over the face of their guide. Janus gasped, struggled and rolled over. Jane turned him on his back again. This time a solid volume of water was dashed into his face. He turned over and made a feeble attempt to rise. Another volume of water smote him in the back of the neck, hurling him to the bridge floor. This time Janus got to his feet, brushing his eyes, for they were so full of water that he could not see.

"I can let him down at the end of the rope and souse him in the stream," suggested Crazy Jane.

"No, no, no!" protested the guardian. She took Janus firmly by the arm. "Where do you feel bad?"

"I swum! I swum!" mumbled the guide. "I swum!"

"You'd have had to swim if you had gone through the hole in the floor," retorted Crazy Jane. "Harriet went down there, and----"

"Eh? What--wha--at?" gasped the guide, blinking rapidly.

"Sit down a moment," urged Miss Elting. "None of us is seriously hurt. How about you?" gazing at the driver. "No bones broken, I trust?"

The driver shook his head. Janus was gazing at the opening in the floor with a puzzled expression on his face. He stared at the planks banked on each side, nodding understandingly.

"Been fixing the bridge. Forgot to put the planks back in place," he muttered.

"Isn't it rather strange that so important a thing should have been forgotten, Mr. Grubb?" questioned the guardian significantly.

"I swum! I swum!" repeated Janus, running reflective fingers through his beard.

"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?"

"Yeth, Jane lotht thome thkin from her nothe, but she can grow thome more, and it will thoon be better again." Tommy's reply drew a smile from her companions, but they were all too much disturbed to feel like indulging in merriment. Besides, there were the suffering horses.

"May I make a suggestion?" asked Harriet, releasing herself from Miss Elting's embrace.

"Somebody will have to make one pretty soon," declared Janus, brushing a sleeve across his forehead. "What is it?"

"I should think that if you were to place the ends of planks under the horses, we might pry them up a little, so that, one by one, you could shove other planks under them. In that way we might get enough planks down to enable the horses to get a foothold."

"Can't be done," answered the driver.

"There will be no harm in trying," urged Harriet.

"It's a good idea," nodded Janus, after having stroked his whiskers reflectively. Janus always consulted his whiskers when in doubt, and among the graying hairs usually found that for which he sought. He was the first to go after a plank. The near horse was the one to feel the support of the plank as the guide worked it under one side of the animal. Janus turned the end of the plank over to Harriet Burrell while he ran for another plank. This was repeated, the driver, after a time, taking part in the operation, until four planks had been worked in under the horse.

"Now, all work together," urged Harriet. "Mr. Grubb, see if you and the driver can't get a couple of planks clear under the horse. If you can get the end of a plank on one of the beams you will have done something really worthwhile."

Miss Elting, Jane, Hazel and Harriet each were assigned to "man" the end of a plank.

"Now, all together! Hee--o--hee!" shouted Janus. A plank slid easily underneath the stomach of the near horse and came to rest on a beam.

"Hooray!" cheered the guide. "That's what comes of having a head on one's shoulders. Young woman, you've got one. Let him down a little. Here, Jim, you get some planks around under that other horse. We'll have them up, but we may break their legs in the final effort. I don't know. Somebody will have to settle for the damage done here to-night."

"The wagon is broken," Margery informed them.

"Never mind the wagon. It's the horses we must save," answered Miss Elting. "We can't leave them to suffer."

Fifteen minutes of hard labor sufficed to raise the horses a little and to place them in greater comfort. The sharp edges of the beams no longer cut into the flesh, and their breathing was less labored. The party paused to rest from their efforts.

"If we had some rope and pulleys we could get the animals out without much difficulty," reflected Janus. "But how to do it now I don't know. I swum! I'm dead-beat."

"Can you lift?" questioned Jane.

"Tolerable."

"Then why not pick up first one fore-foot, then another, and place them on the planks. You'll see what the horses will do then."

Janus scratched his head and fingered his beard.

"I swum, Jim!" he grinned, "let's try it."

Each man took hold of a fore-foot of each horse, and, without much difficulty, raised it to the planks before each animal. They were about to go after the other fore-foot when Tommy, who had been standing back at a safe distance, attracted their attention by uttering a little cry.

"Oh, look! it ith growing light," she exclaimed.

"Daylight? Why, it is getting light," cried Margery.

A faint glow was flickering at the end of the bridge, casting rays through the farther portion of the covered structure. The light was of a reddish tinge. At first, not realizing that the night was still young, the Meadow-Brook Girls welcomed that light with shouts of approval. But there was something strange about the glow that caused Miss Elting, Harriet and the men to gaze in open-mouthed wonder.

As they gazed the glow seemed to grow stronger. Then it flamed into a great glare of red.

"Fire! Fire!" yelled Jane McCarthy.

"The bridge is on fire! Run for your lives!" shouted the guide. "Never mind the horses. Run!"

With one common impulse the girls and their guardian started toward the other end of the bridge, which was not more than twenty feet from them. Margery uttered a scream of terror. Jane grabbed her by one shoulder, giving her a violent shake.

"Don't make things any worse than they are. Tell when you begin to burn, but don't make us think we are burning till the fire gets to us."

"Go on, girls," cried Harriet. "I'm going back to the other end. We must think about saving our packs and our horses." Unheeding their warning shouts, the girl ran back toward where Janus and the driver were still engaged in trying to lift the horses. Miss Elting had followed Harriet, and the two women now implored Janus to hurry with the rescue of the animals.

"It's no use!" he exclaimed angrily. "We can't do it before the fire gets to us. We are likely to lose our packs, too, unless we let these horses go and attend to them."

"Never mind the packs," said Harriet stubbornly, as she laid a firm hand on one of the guide's arms. "We are going to save these poor animals. Let us keep on trying, and I feel sure we can not fail. Now, think hard. What is the quickest and best thing to be done?"