e 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.

Janus 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
shore.

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

Neither woman answered.

Margery burst forth into a loud wail. Tommy and Hazel stood in blank,
rigid silence. They could not believe that Harriet was gone. Miss
Elting sank down on a pack, while Jane stood gazing moodily off over
the sluggish river.

Janus came in a few moments behind the guardian and Jane, his arms
hanging limply at his sides, his chin lowered almost to his chest.

"I'm afraid it isn't any use to look further," he said. The little
party scarcely heard the guide. Jim had gone on up the bank. They
could hear him whistling and chirping to the missing horses to call
them to him. Then they caught the sound of a whinny and a moment later
another. The animals had heard and recognized their master. Jim
captured and haltered them with the ropes that he had brought from the
carry-all for the purpose. He then led the animals off to one side,
where he secured them to trees. The driver then walked slowly along
the bank to join the others of the party.

Suddenly Jane McCarthy cried out sharply, "Who's that?"

A series of little splashes had been heard out in the river; then, out
of the gloom, grew the dim outlines of a moving figure.

"Who is it?" cried Miss Elting, scarcely daring to trust her voice.

"It is I. What is all the excitement about?" called a familiar voice.

"Harriet!"

A chorus of screams greeted Miss Elting's cry. Four girls and their
guardian, regardless of the wetting they w