"We may as well go on to the picnic grounds," said Mr. Blake, when the
smaller, frightened children had gotten over their crying.

"How we going to get home again if we can't cross the bridge?" asked
Flossie, looking at the sagging structure.

"Oh, there's another bridge over the creek, about two miles down," the
driver of the second truck said. "That will be all right."

Soon the children and grown folks were on the autos again, and moving
toward the picnic grounds. This time there was not so much merry
laughter and singing, for all felt that there had been a narrow escape
from a terrible accident.

But gloom does not long remain with a party of jolly boys and girls, and
by the time they alighted at Pine Grove each one was in high spirits
again.

There were plenty of amusements at the picnic grounds. Little rustic
pavilions here and there formed places where one could sit in the shade
and eat lunch. There were swings for those who liked them, and boats for
the older ones.

A green meadow, not far away, made a fine baseball field, and Bert,
Charlie, and Dannie, with some of the older boys, at once made a rush
for the field to start a baseball game.

"You take care of the lunch, Nan," Bert begged his older sister. "I'll
come back when it's time to eat."