e smaller lads under the
surface, and they came up too dazed to see the hands held out to seize
them. Knight and Sandy found their feet at once, and with Uncle Joe
formed a dam against which the others were caught like salmon in a
river-trap.

Sarah was fished up by her blond braids and came up gasping, "I told
you so!" before she opened her eyes.

"That's about as busy a spell as I've had for some time," Uncle Joe
declared as he hauled out the last of the small boys and then
clambered up the steep bank.

"You showed great presence of mind, Uncle Joe--except for one thing,"
said Blue Bonnet. "If you had just taken a snap-shot when the bridge
broke I'd be quite happy."

"And if a few of us had drowned while he was doing it--" Kitty began
ironically.

"You'd have missed being in the picture, poor souls! Well, since we're
all alive, let's go break the news gently to the grown-ups." Blue
Bonnet looked around the drenched, shivering group and then burst into
peals of laughter.

In truth they were a sorry looking lot. Soaked to the skin, with hair
and clothes dripping and bedraggled, they all looked at each other as
if surprised and grieved to find themselves part of so undignified a
company.

Grandmother's expression when the We are Sevens hove into sight, sent
Blue Bonnet off into another gale of merriment.

"We've been shooting the chutes, Grandmother," she said with dancing
eyes.

"Without a boat," added Kitty.

It took Sarah to tell the story in all its harrowing details, and at
its conclusion Mrs. Clyde looked sober.

"Were you really in danger?" she asked Blue Bonnet.

"Not a bit," Blue Bonnet declared. "Sarah was the only one who came
near drowning and that was because she _would_ talk under water."

Fifteen minutes later the little sheet-iron stove was red-hot, and on
a hastily strung clothes-line about it hung an array of dripping
garments that almost hid it from view.

"There's one comfort about all this," said Kitty, "our skirts and
middies have had a much-needed bath."

"I'm afraid they won't be very clean,--cold water won't take grease
out," said Sarah mournfully. "And I'd like to know--how are we going
to iron them?"

They were all sitting in a circle about a blazing bonfire of Uncle
Joe's building, with their streaming hair spread out to dry.
Dressing-gowns and bedroom slippers had made it unnecessary to go to
bed while their wardrobe hung on the line, and now that they were warm
and co