Again she turned, while Little Tim stood with knees shaking. Henry Burns
and Harvey, seeing the girl's apparent peril, uttered each an
exclamation of alarm, and headed out once more into the stream.

But they were helpless. A moment more, and they saw the girl caught by
the swift rush of the water. Waving an arm just as she went over the
edge of the incline, she straightened out and lay at full length, so as
to keep as nearly as she could at the surface. She disappeared, and they
waited what seemed an age, but was scarcely more than two minutes. Then,
all at once, there came up to their ears, from far below, the clear,
yodelling cry of Bess Thornton. She had gone safely through.

It was a serious moment for Tim Reardon. There wasn't a better swimmer
of his size in all Benton. Only a few of the larger lads dared to dive
with him from the very top of Pulpit Rock, a high point on the bank of
the stream, some miles below. Now he was stumped by a girl no bigger
than himself, and he felt his knees wabbling in uncertain fashion at the
thought of attempting the flume. And there was his big friend, Harvey,
and Henry Burns, waiting out on the water, uncertain as to what they
should do. He might aid them to win the race. Or he might hang back, be
beaten, himself, by a girl, and Harvey and Henry Burns would lose.

Little Tim gazed for one moment out into midstream, to where the water,
black and gleaming, rushed smoothly and swiftly into the opening of the
sluice-way. Then he got his voice under control as best he could, waved
toward the canoe and shouted:

"Come on, Jack. I'll show yer. It's e-e-asy."

Little Tim shut his eyes, swallowed a lump in his throat, dived from the
boom and made a long swim under water. When he reappeared, he was near
the swift current, a little way below where the canoe lay.

"Come on, fellers," he cried again--and the next moment Henry Burns and
Harvey saw him disappear over the edge of the dam. It seemed as though
there had been hardly time for him to be borne down to the foot of the
descent before they heard his voice, calling triumphantly back to them.

Henry Burns turned and gave one quick, inquiring glance at his
companion. In return, Harvey gave a whistle that denoted his surprise at
the odd turn of affairs, and said shortly, "Got to do it now. We can go
through if they can. Hang that girl! Get a good brace now. Gimminy, look
at that water run!"

They were on the very brink, as he spoke; a