Glancing hastily about, she instantly formed her plan for
rescuing Harriet.
Seizing one of the side poles of the tent she ran one end of it under the
cot; then bracing her shoulder against it, used it as a lever in the
endeavor to pry the weight off her friend. The pole broke in the middle.
Nothing daunted, she placed the two broken ends of it together under the
cot, and thus doubling their strength, she shouted excitedly to Jasper:
"Take hold, you owl-faced sleepy-head!"
Jasper did so, and with difficulty elevated the cot a few inches above the
body of Harriet.
But that was enough! Like a flash Jane bent down and dragged Harriet from
her perilous position and out into the open air.
Harriet lay on the wet ground gasping for breath. She was completely
exhausted. Her hair was a tangled mass, her face was scratched and bloody,
her wrapper was badly torn.
"Get away from here!" commanded Crazy Jane, turning on Jasper almost
savagely, and Jasper lost no time in obeying her. "Are you much hurt,
darlin'?" she begged grasping one of Harriet's hands in both her own.
"Oh! Wa--ait till I ge--t my breath," gasped Harriet.
"Take your time. Oh, I'm so glad. I thought I'd never get you out."
Harriet roused herself.
"Is Harriet all right?" cried the anxious voice of Hazel Holland.
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