en she did change her mind it did her no good, so far as
changing the situation was concerned. A procession of Meadow-Brook
Girls was well started on a perilous journey, the result of which could
not be foreseen by the three members of the party left in the camp.

CHAPTER XVII

WHAT CAME OF SHOOTING THE CHUTE

Miss Elting had begun to unwind herself the instant her attention had
been called to Grace Thompson's perilous position at the head of the
chute. Hazel Holland also had rolled over to free herself of the
blankets. But before either of them had succeeded in getting to her
feet, Tommy had taken the long dive, followed, as the reader already
knows, by Margery, and later by Harriet Burrell and Jane McCarthy.

"They'll be killed! Oh, those girls!" wailed the guardian. "Go after
them, Janus."

"They are quite likely to be," observed the guide huskily. "I can go
after them, but I can't stop them. There they are."

They heard the splash--in fact, several distinct splashes--faint, it is
true, but sufficient to tell those in the camp that the girls had
reached their destination, the pond at the foot of the Slide. Janus
already was racing down the mountain, jumping, stumbling, falling now
and then, but making his way down as rapidly as possible.

"Remain here, Hazel," commanded Miss Elting. Then she, too, hurried
down, making even better time than did the guide, for the guardian was
more agile and much lighter on her feet.

Fortunately for Tommy, she had been headed straight along the center of
the Slide from the beginning. The chute sloped somewhat toward the
middle. Tommy had instinctively kept her head up, arms thrust straight
ahead of her. She began gasping for breath, and, either obeying
Harriet's direction or the instinct of the swimmer, she closed her lips
tightly and held her breath. Her little body flashed through a thick
growth of bushes that hung over the chute at one point. She had seen
the bushes coming at her like a projectile and instinctively lowered
her head before reaching them. But she quickly raised her head again,
uttering an exclamation, as the skin was neatly peeled from the bridge
of her nose.

"Oh, thave me!" groaned Tommy, as the pond rose up to meet her. She
caught and held her breath. When she struck the water a sheet of it
rose up on each side of her just as the water does at the launching of
a steamship, only there was much less displacement in Tommy's case. To