Jasper obeyed with alacrity, holding the lantern as close to where Jane worked as was possible.

Jane made one more frantic effort to raise the cot, then finding it useless she clambered back to where Jasper stood peering anxiously at the fallen tent. Glancing hastily about, she instantly formed her plan for rescuing Harriet.

Seizing one of the side poles of the tent she ran one end of it under the cot; then bracing her shoulder against it, used it as a lever in the endeavor to pry the weight off her friend. The pole broke in the middle.

Nothing daunted, she placed the two broken ends of it together under the cot, and thus doubling their strength, she shouted excitedly to Jasper:

"Take hold, you owl-faced sleepy-head!"

Jasper did so, and with difficulty elevated the cot a few inches above the body of Harriet.

But that was enough! Like a flash Jane bent down and dragged Harriet from her perilous position and out into the open air.

Harriet lay on the wet ground gasping for breath. She was completely exhausted. Her hair was a tangled mass, her face was scratched and bloody, her wrapper was badly torn.

"Get away from here!" commanded Crazy Jane, turning on Jasper almost savagely, and Jasper lost no time in obeying her. "Are you much hurt, darlin'?" she begged grasping one of Harriet's hands in both her own.

"Oh! Wa--ait till I ge--t my breath," gasped Harriet.

"Take your time. Oh, I'm so glad. I thought I'd never get you out."

Harriet roused herself.

"Is Harriet all right?" cried the anxious voice of Hazel Holland.

"Yes, she is, but don't you bother her," warned Jane. "She's all in."

"I--I'll be all ri--ight Don't worry," gasped Harriet.

She struggled to a sitting posture. Then her head drooped forward. Her arms fell limply at her sides, and with a little moan Harriet toppled over, unconscious.

CHAPTER XXI

A DAY OF EXCITEMENT

"Get back!" commanded Crazy Jane, pushing a crowd of girls away. "Do you want to smother the poor child?"

"We must get her into one of the tents," declared Mrs. Livingston.

"Wait till she comes to," answered Jane, turning Harriet over on her back so that the rain, which was falling in a fine drizzle now, might beat on the face of the unconscious girl.

Now Harriet began to move her head from side to side to avoid the drizzle that was beating into her face. Soon her eyelids began to quiver. Her breathing became stronger. Mrs. Livingston was kneeling beside her, chafing the girl's hands and smoothing back the tangled hair from her white forehead.

"I think she should be carried in to one of the tents now," said the Chief Guardian.

"Sure," agreed Jane, gathering Harriet into her arms and staggering away.

She shook her head vehemently as half a dozen girls sprang forward to help her with her burden.

Harriet struggled from the friendly arms of Jane.

"I--I can walk," she said weakly. Jane threw an arm about her waist and led her into the nearest tent, followed by Mrs. Livingston and more than twenty Camp Girls.

"You had better all go to your tents, dry yourselves and get into bed,"

advised the Chief Guardian. "We don't want any of our Camp Girls to become ill, you know. Miss Burrell will be all right now, I think."

The Camp Girls obeyed reluctantly, though Harriet's chums asked and received permission to remain with their fellow Meadow-Brook girl. Upon entering the tent Jane saw the tousled head of Patricia Scott above the blankets of another girl's col Patricia had crawled into the first cot she came to.

"Get up, young lady, and give Harriet a chance," ordered Jane.

Patricia merely stared, then her black eyes snapped. She made no move to rise. Crazy Jane did not repeat her order. Instead she strode up to the cot, grasped the edge of it and turned it over. Patricia went sprawling.

Harriet had sat down heavily on the floor of the tent as soon as her friend released her. Jane patted down the quilts and stepping over to her companion assisted her to the suddenly vacated cot.

"Get in, honey," smiled Jane.

Patricia had scrambled to her feet, her eyes snapping menacingly, her hands clenched so tightly as to show white ridges at the knuckles. Then she caught sight of the Chief Guardian about to enter the tent and brought up abruptly in her charge on Crazy Jane who had not deigned to look at Patricia after dumping her out of the cot.

"You may go to my quarters and lie down, Miss Scott," ordered Mrs.

Livingston. "The rest of you may do the same when you feel equal to it."

Patricia flung herself out of the tent angrily. Cora remained a few moments, acting as though she wanted to say something. However, instead of doing so she finally followed Patricia and went through the rain to Mrs.

Livingston's tent.

"Ith--ith Harriet better now?" questioned Tommy in a hesitating voice.

"Yes, dear, we hope so. She will be as well as ever by to-morrow morning.

Miss McCarthy, do you know what she did to save those girls?"

"No, Mrs. Livingston, I don't know. She saved them all right. That's as much as I care to know. Has any one a wrapper? Harriet is soaking wet."

Hazel and Margery immediately began rummaging in the tent. They failed to find a kimono or dressing gown, because the girls who occupied the tent were wearing their own. Mrs. Livingston thereat, removed Harriet's torn, dressing gown, wrapping her in dry blankets, Harriet protesting all the time that she was not in need of all these attentions. One of the regular occupants of the tent was sent to another tent where she slept on the floor for the rest of the night. She had offered no objection to giving up her bed, nor would she have done so had she found Patricia there, as Patricia Scott well knew. Jane declared that she would not leave Harriet.

In the meantime, Miss Partridge, who now was Mrs. Livingston's Chief Assistant, was making hot tea for the girls who had been caught under the falling tree. Mrs. Livingston remained with Harriet for a little time, leaving soon after Miss Partridge came in with the tea. Shortly after that she might have been seen, enveloped in a hooded raincoat tramping about the camp with Jasper, examining the trees to learn if there was further danger from any of them. Having satisfied herself on this point and making a final round of the tents to see that her girls were all comfortably settled for the night, Mrs. Livingston returned to her own tent.

Morning dawned bright and beautiful after the storm. It was not until then that the Camp Girls realized what a narrow escape Harriet Burrell and the three other girls had had. There was nothing to be seen of the tent save here and there a white patch of canvas observable under the mass of limbs and foliage. Jasper was at work stoically chopping away, both for the sake of clearing up the mess and providing some excellent wood for the campfire. After dinner enough of the wreckage was cleared away so that the girls were able to catch a glimpse of the four cots drawn up close together, though they were now crushed down and lay in confusion on the floor of the tent.

Harriet had gotten up shortly after the usual hour. Her eyes were bright, but her face showed the effect of the trial through which she had passed.

It still bore scratches. The girl was so lame that every step she took gave her pain and her back was so stiff that she stooped considerably when walking. Mrs. Livingston had tried to get the story of Harriet's saving of their lives from the three girls. Patricia and Cora were uncommunicative.

Tommy had no very clear idea of what had occurred, except that she "wath thmothered almotht to death." But Mrs. Livingston was not to be put off so easily. She found an opportunity to speak with Harriet early in the afternoon. The first question she asked was why the cots had been placed in the middle of the tent floor.

Harriet smiled as she told the Guardian that they had been dragged there so that their occupants might escape the rain.

"What followed?" urged Mrs. Livingston.