By this time the guardian had gone to Jane's assistance and was
pressing a bottle of smelling salts to the nostrils of Janus Grubb.
Janus twisted his head uneasily, as though to get away from the pungent
odor of the salts.

"He will be all right in a few moments, I think. I wish we had some
water," murmured Miss Elting.

Jane ran to the wagon. She returned with a rope and a pail. Tying the
rope to the pail, she lowered the latter through the opening in the
floor. A few moments later she presented a pail of water to Miss
Elting, which the guardian sprinkled little by little over the face of
their guide. Janus gasped, struggled and rolled over. Jane turned him
on his back again. This time a solid volume of water was dashed into
his face. He turned over and made a feeble attempt to rise. Another
volume of water smote him in the back of the neck, hurling him to the
bridge floor. This time Janus got to his feet, brushing his eyes, for
they were so full of water that he could not see.

"I can let him down at the end of the rope and souse him in the
stream," suggested Crazy Jane.

"No, no, no!" protested the guardian. She took Janus firmly by the
arm. "Where do you feel bad?"

"I swum! I swum!" mumbled the guide. "I swum!"

"You'd have had to swim if you had gone through the hole in the floor,"
retorted Crazy Jane. "Harriet went down there, and----"