The Meadow-Brook Girls in the Hills Part 5

"Oh, what a mess!" shouted Jane McCarthy. "Are we near the other end, or has the miserable old bridge turned around since we started? The horses are now going faster than ever, and we'll be going at the same rapid gait a few moments from now, or maybe seconds----"

Crash!

The carry-all once more struck the side. Then something else occurred.

There was a sudden stoppage of the horses, accompanied by the sound of breaking woodwork. It was as if the bridge were collapsing. The Meadow-Brook Girls were piled in a heap at the forward end of the vehicle, then hurled straight over the dashboard and on over the horses, amid shouts and screams. There seemed to be no end to the crashing and screaming for some moments; then a sudden silence settled over the darkened structure, broken only by the frightened neigh of a horse.

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 sc.r.a.ped 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 Ja.n.u.s 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 Ja.n.u.s, 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 a.s.sistance 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 a.s.sistance and was pressing a bottle of smelling salts to the nostrils of Ja.n.u.s Grubb.

Ja.n.u.s 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. Ja.n.u.s 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 Ja.n.u.s 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 Ja.n.u.s 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. Ja.n.u.s 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 Ja.n.u.s, 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."