Blue Bonnet shook her head. "I can't rest till I get that picture. I want the boys and the We are Sevens on the little rustic bridge. Now, Sarah, don't you dare tidy up till I get you just as you are. I want you to pose as Terrible Tom the Texas Terror." That Sarah had her own opinion as to who the Texas Terror might be was shown by her expression as she relinquished her design of brushing her hair, and followed the other girls up the hill to the Big Spring. The boys were already assembled and were now grouped on the bridge in attitudes meant to be artistic and fetching. The rustic bridge--rather more rustic than substantial--was suspended just over a pretty waterfall, which slipped down a smooth runway of eight or ten feet into a pool all foam and spray; a charming spot for a group-picture. It required both skill and patience to get every one posed and the camera focussed; Blue Bonnet had just completed these preliminaries, when Alec upset everything by insisting that he should be the photographer and she a member of the group. The rest supported his contention that she should be in the picture, and in the argument that followed, the chances for any picture at all grew slim. Just then Uncle Joe appeared, and was at once pressed into service. Blue Bonnet gave explicit directions as to the precise moment at which the bulb was to be pressed, and then proceeded to join the rest who were in the agonies of trying to look pleasant. "Do hurry, Blue Bonnet," urged Sarah nervously, "I can hear the bridge creaking." A roar of derision followed this declaration and some of the smaller boys began stamping on the old timbers for the sheer joy of seeing poor Sarah quake. At the precise moment that Blue Bonnet stepped from the bank to her place by the rail, there was a loud report, followed by a scream. Uncle Joe, looking up from the reflector, saw the bridge parted neatly in the middle, and the entire party shooting the chutes in a most informal manner. By the time the first boy had finished the descent, Uncle Joe was in the water fishing out the gasping victims. The pool was not deep, but the swift fall carried the smaller lads under the surface, and they came up too dazed to see the hands held out to seize them. Knight and Sandy found their feet at once, and with Uncle Joe formed a dam against which the others were caught like salmon in a river-trap. Sarah was fished up by her blond braids and came up gasping, "I told you so!" before she opened her eyes. "That's about as busy a spell as I've had for some time," Uncle Joe declared as he hauled out the last of the small boys and then clambered up the steep bank. "You showed great presence of mind, Uncle Joe--except for one thing," said Blue Bonnet. "If you had just taken a snap-shot when the bridge broke I'd be quite happy." "And if a few of us had drowned while he was doing it--" Kitty began ironically.