The Meadow-Brook Girls in the Hills Part 7

"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."

Ja.n.u.s 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 Ja.n.u.s.

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."

Harriet ran to the wagon, followed closely by Miss Elting and Margery.

Tommy alone held back. Hazel and Jane also hurried forward to a.s.sist.

"All those who wish their suppers will have to work," cried Harriet Burrell.

"We need a fire company more than thupper jutht now," retorted Tommy Thompson. "If we had a fire engine we could make thith fire look thick."

Harriet was in the carry-all pa.s.sing out bundles and packs. She dropped a sack of cooking utensils to the floor of the bridge with a great clatter.

"Carry them to land," she directed Tommy and Hazel.

"There goes the other horse," cried Miss Elting, as a crash and a great splash for the moment cut short their conversation. Ja.n.u.s uttered a yell of triumph.

"We got 'em both free!" he shouted.

"That's what," agreed Jim. "We'll pull the carry-all ash.o.r.e next."

"I am afraid we won't have time. The fire is almost too near for comfort now," said Harriet. Then she darted back to the carry-all to secure a blanket that she recalled had been laid over the back of the front seat of the vehicle, and which had been forgotten when removing the other things. Reaching the wagon, she decided to take the cushions also. Then Harriet made a final search of the wagon to be sure that nothing of value had been left. The carry-all had been well stripped.

The girl sprang out, casting a quick glance overhead, when she discovered, to her dismay, that the flames were already at work, they having rapidly eaten their way along the ridge of the bridge.

"Gracious! I must get out of here and without a moment's loss of time," she cried.

"Hurry!" bellowed the voice of the guide. "We haven't time to save the carry-all. Get out from under. The bridge is going to fall."

As Harriet made a dash toward safety the burned end of the bridge fell.

There was a rending noise as the weakened girders gave way under the weight of the bridge. A shower of sparks and flame shot into the air.

Miss Elting, Jane and the two men stood on sh.o.r.e, shouting with all their might to Harriet Burrell. But Harriet did not hear their warning shouts, nor had she need of warning. She knew only too well what was occurring. Suddenly the long bridge caved in and went down well past the middle with a tremendous crashing and snapping and roaring, sparks and flames shooting still higher than before, the burning timbers hissing and sending up a great cloud of steam as they fell into the river.

Miss Elting, grown dizzy at thought of Harriet, had stumbled and fallen. Jane McCarthy quickly raised and dragged the guardian away.

"Harriet!" shouted Miss Elting.

The frightened girls took up the cry, but there was no answer. Harriet had gone down with the burning bridge.

CHAPTER VI

THEIR TROUBLES MULTIPLY

Miss Elting and Jane McCarthy had climbed down the embankment, and, standing at the river's edge, scanned the water with pale faces and anxious eyes. Dark shapes drifted past them, shapes that caused them to start apprehensively as they caught sight of them.

Nearly all of the bridge that had been on fire was now in the water.

The structure had broken off short, taking most of the fire with it into the river. The broken end, still in the air, glowed here and there, the glowing spots fading and dying out one by one. Of this the two women saw nothing. They were heavy with anxiety. It did not seem to them possible that Harriet Burrell could have escaped alive. Ja.n.u.s and Jim, who had run to the river bank, were now plunging here and there, stumbling, groping, wading or swimming about in the river to have a look at some bit of wreckage that resembled a human form. They believed that Harriet had been swept down to her death with the burning bridge.

All at once Jane raised her voice in the cry of the Meadow-Brook Girls.

"Hoo-e-e-e!" she called shrilly. But no answering cry from the missing girl relieved their suspense.

"I'm afraid we can do no more," said Miss Elting with a catch in her voice. "Oh, why did I leave her? Why did I not insist on Harriet's leaving that awful place with me?"

"You couldn't help it," soothed Jane. "But you mark me, Miss Elting, Harriet is alive and sound, just like the rest of us. You leave it to Harriet Burrell to take care of herself. I tell you it's all right.

Hoo-e-e-e-e!"

"Don't! Oh, don't!" begged the guardian.

"Why not? She'll hear me and she'll know which way to go when she comes up from the water," answered Crazy Jane breezily. She was putting on a brave show of cheerfulness, and somehow this cheerfulness began to take hold of Miss Elting. Her shattered hopes began to rise; she began to take courage even against her better judgment, which told her that Harriet could not possibly have escaped. Even granting that she had, they would have seen or heard from her before this.

Ja.n.u.s stood dripping beside them.

"Now, you ladies go back. I'll do all the looking that's necessary.

Candidly, I don't think Miss Harriet escaped. She was caught when the old bridge fell down, but I'll keep on looking for her. I'll keep right on looking all the rest of the night."

Jane led Miss Elting up the bank despite the protests of the guardian that she did not wish to go, but preferred to remain where she was.

"We can do nothing here," urged Jane, more gently now. It was all that she could do to keep from breaking down and crying, but she knew she must keep up her courage. Besides, she was still hoping, at times almost believing, that they would find Harriet Burrell awaiting them on sh.o.r.e.

"Didn't you find her?" cried Hazel. They had climbed the steep bank and returned to the girls.

Neither woman answered.