“Let—let me get her!” gasped Blake, as he whirled about in the water, seeking the tell-tale train of bubbles that might indicate the presence of the girl.

“No!” cried Jack. “You get in the boat. Your wet clothes are too heavy. I’ll dive for her. I saw where she went down!”

There was wisdom in this, as Blake well knew, and, though he would have dared anything to make the rescue, he realized that Jack’s plan was best. The latter had already thrown off his coat, and kicked loose his rubber-soled low shoes. Clad in a pair of light-weight trousers, and a sleeveless shirt, he poised for a moment on the bow of the boat, and then dived.

He cut the water cleanly, and Blake, swimming to Phil’s boat, managed to get in over the stem, Phil with an agonized look on his face holding it steady. Mrs. Bonnell, who with Mabel and Alice was in Jack’s boat, looked to see the result of his dive.

“It wasn’t your fault, Phil,” said the Guardian gently. “It wasn’t a very hard bump. The canoe is a very tippy one.”

“That’s right!” gasped Blake.

It seemed an age ere Jack came shooting up out of the water. With a shake of his head he cleared his eyes and mouth, and cried:

“I saw her—on the—bottom!” he gasped. “But—she was too far over. I’ll dive again. I can get her—stay here!” he called to Phil, and Blake, who seemed about to leap overboard.

Filling his lungs with air, Jack again dived. They could watch him by the commotion in the water, and when he presently appeared, bearing the unconscious form of Natalie to the surface, Phil gave a spasmodic yell, the others joining in.

“Get her into your boat, Phil—it’s larger,” commanded Mrs. Bonnell. “Then row to shore as fast as you can. We’ll have to practice first aid work, just as we did in class, girls,” she added, for the Camp Fire rules called for a girl knowing how to resuscitate an apparently drowned person.

It did not take long to get Natalie into the boat, and then with feverishly rapid strokes Phil rowed to shore, the others following.

“Make a little pillow of your coats, boys,” commanded Mrs. Bonnell. “We’ll place that under her, as she lies face down. That will help to drain the water out of her lungs.”

The inert form of Natalie was rolled over, until some water did come from her lips. Then, directing the efforts of Jack and Phil, Mrs. Bonnell had them raise the girl’s arms above her head, while she pressed on the diaphragm to facilitate the getting of air into the lungs.

Natalie had only been a short time in the water, and, as it developed later, her head had struck on the gunwale of the canoe, rendering her unconscious, so that she had swallowed only a little water. The blow, in a measure, was lucky for her, since it made her rescue easier. She had not struggled in Jack’s grip.

“There!” exclaimed Mrs. Bonnell, as a tremor of the white eyelids, and a gentle sigh, told that consciousness was returning. “She’s coming to!”

“Ah!” breathed Phil in relief. He had been under a great strain.

Natalie opened her eyes.

“What happened? Did I— Oh, I remember,” she gasped. “I fell out of the boat. How silly!”

“Not at all!” exclaimed Marie. “How do you feel?”

“Rather—rather weak,” was the answer.

“She ought to have a warm drink,” exclaimed Mabel. “Oh, if we could only make a fire, and heat some coffee!”

“We can make a fire,” said Phil, “but the coffee is out of the question. We’d better get back to camp. It was all my fault. I should have looked where I rowed.”

“No, I got in the way,” declared Blake. “I should have told Nat to sit down on the bottom of the canoe, instead of on the seat, but she wanted to improve her paddle stroke.”

Natalie shivered as she sat up. A little color was beginning to show in her cheeks.

“I have it!” cried Jack. “We’re not far from the old mill. I’ll run over there, and get Old Hanson to make some coffee!”

“I’ll go!” volunteered Phil, anxious to be of service.

“No, let me,” insisted Jack. “I want to get dry and the run will do the trick,” and he was off on a path that led to the mysterious mill.

He was lucky in finding Old Hanson in his shack. The solitary man was just starting a fire for supper. The kettle was boiling and, quickly explaining the need, Jack helped make coffee. Then, with a pailful of the steaming beverage, while Hanson came after him with a blanket, the lad hurried back to where the others were.

The coffee was just what Natalie needed and it sent the warm blood into her now rather more pale than olive cheeks. She insisted on Jack and Blake taking some of the beverage, which they consented to do. For, though, the day was warm, their damp, clinging clothes were none too comfortable.

“Here, wrap her in this blanket,” urged Old Hanson as he came up. “It’s clean,” he added quickly, “I only use it as a spread for the couch. It will keep her from getting a cold.”

Natalie gladly wound it about her, and then, looking more than ever like an Indian maiden she was helped down to the smaller boat. Jack offered to row her to camp, and no one disputed him the honor. Mrs. Bonnell went with them to assist Natalie on reaching the tent. The others came on more leisurely, the overturned canoe having been righted.

Jack never rowed so fast in his life and he was in a warm, rosy glow when Crystal Springs was reached. Natalie, too, was much improved, and soon, clad in warm, dry garments she was herself again. The others came on, and then the whole affair was gone over in detail, each one telling his or her feelings during the crucial moments.

Phil was contrition itself, but no one blamed him, though they all agreed that they must all use more care in the future. The next day saw no ill effects of the accident, though Natalie remained rather quietly about camp, stretched in a barrel stave hammock the boys had made in honor of her “convalescence,” as ............