ay-haired man seemed almost distraught over the situation. He was
storming up and down the road, alternately roaring commands and
delivering tirades against everything in general. It was quite evident
that he was the manager of the outfit.

"Now we're in a fine mess," he thundered as he strode to the edge of the
quarry and peered down into the darkness. "It's so dogon dark down there
we can't even see th' brute. How'll we ever get him out? That's what I
want to know. Hang the man who's responsible for this mess! Gol-ding
t'--_wush_--_phew_."

His soliloquy on the brink of the quarry hole ended abruptly when with a
snort the elephant shot a trunk full of water out of the darkness,
bowling the little man over and drenching every thing and everybody.

"Kill t' beast! Kill him, Gol--ding his hide!" screamed the dripping
manager as he picked himself up out of the mud. But he was such a
comical figure that every one shouted with laughter.

To Bruce and the Scouts the whole situation was extremely humorous.
Evidently the lead elephant had wandered into the washout and lost his
footing. The next thing he knew he had slid with a big splash into the
quarry hole. And then, having a fondness for water and seeing no way to
climb up the twenty-foot wall of rocks, he had decided to stay there and
have a thoroughly good time.

But Bruce realized that they could not indulge their humor long, for as
guardians of the road it was their duty to give all the assistance they
could. Hastily the patrol leader made an inspection of the pit by the
light of his pocket flash. He remembered a derrick on one side of the
cut. And he hastened to look that over, for already he was beginning to
form plans for getting the beast out of trouble.

He noted with satisfaction that the derrick had been only partly
dismantled and that the rusty steel cable was coiled up in a pile beside
the heavy upright. Then he returned to the roadside and approached the
agitated little manager.

"We are the Guardians of the Highways for Woodbridge, sir," he said, "and
we would--"

"You are the WHAT!" roared the manager.

"The Guardians of the Highways and--"

"Well, why in tarnation didn't yuh guard 'em then? I--I--I--"

Bruce interrupted the sputtering manager by pointing to the red light.

"There's our light. We did our part. It must have been your fault. But
no matter; we'll help you get the animal out of the quarry if you'll let
us.

"Ho