pocket. I guess nothin' ain't goin' to happen for a few
minutes."

The surmise about the horses, unlike most of Old Kennebec's,
proved to be true. Benson's pair had gone to Portland with a
load of hay; accordingly the tackle was brought, the rope was
adjusted to a log, and five of the drivers, standing on the
riverbank, attempted to drag it from its intrenched position. It
refused to yield the fraction of an inch. Rufus and Stephen
joined the five men, and the augmented crew of seven were putting
all their strength on the rope when a cry went up from the
watchers on the bridge. The "dog" had loosened suddenly, and the
men were flung violently to the ground. For a second they were
stunned both by the surprise and by the shock of the blow, but in
the same moment the cry of the crowd swelled louder.

Alcestis Crambry had stolen, all unoticed, to the rope and had
attempted to use his feeble powers for the common good. When
then blow came he fell backward, and, making no effort to control
the situation, slid over the bank and into the water.

The other Crambrys, not realizing the danger, laughed, audibly,
but there was no jeering from the bridge.

Stephan had seen Alcestis slip, and in the fraction of a moment
had taken off his boots and was coasting down the slippery rocks
behind him in a twinkling he was in the water, almost as soon as
the boy himself.

"Doggoned idjut!" exclaimed Old Kennebec, tearfully. "Wuth the