literally cracked the whip with Harriet Burrell. The rein slapped the side
of a big tree. Harriet was lifted from her feet and hurled with great
force into the middle of a heap of brush. The dead branches snapped under
her weight and she landed at the bottom of the heap, then lay still.

Miss Elting upon finding that the other three girls were more scared than
hurt, had run after the fleeing horse that was dragging Harriet away. She
cried out in her alarm as she saw the girl land in the brush heap. But by
the time Miss Elting had reached the spot, Harriet's pale, scratched face
appeared above the top of the brush.

"Oh, my dear, my dear! Are you hurt?"

"Oh, I am all right, thank you," answered Harriet with a brave smile.
"Was--was any one injured?"

Before answering Miss Elting had plunged into the brush waist deep to lend
a hand to Harriet. The gowns of both women were considerably damaged
before Harriet had been assisted from her uncomfortable predicament.

"You poor girl!" exclaimed Miss Elting.

"I am somewhat the worse for wear," smiled Harriet ruefully.

"Thave me, thave me!"

At sound of the familiar voice and the familiar words they turned to see
Tommy running toward them.

"Jathper hath a fit," cried Tommy.