"Tag broke out of jail last night," replied the officer. "He's---at large?" "That's what he is," nodded Simmons. "Tag was looked upon as a kid, and wasn't watched as carefully as he should have been. So he got out. Not only that, but he visited the warden's office, late at night. So, when he left, he took with him a sawed-off shotgun---one of the wickedest weapons ever invented---and a revolver and plenty of ammunition. That's what I'm doing in the woods now. I came to see if you had seen Tag to-day, but your asking for news of him shows me that you haven't." "Is Mr. Valden with you?" asked Dick. "Yes; he's over at the road, in the car. He wouldn't come to camp. I guess the truth is"---Simmons' eyes twinkled---that Valden is ashamed to see you after the rebuke you gave him the other night, Prescott. After we got young Mosher to the jail and locked up, I gave Valden a talking-to, and told him I'd report him to the sheriff if I ever heard of his abusing a prisoner again." "So Tag escaped, with some field artillery, and you officers are out after him?" Tom asked. "Yes; and three other pairs of deputies are out also," nodded Mr. Simmons. "Did you get that car out of the creek?" asked Darry. "We never heard." "That car was a complete wreck," replied the officer. "We got it out of the creek, but left it in the woods nearby. The bridge has been rebuilt, and is stronger than before. How's your hip, Prescott?" "As well as ever, thank you," replied Dick. "I'm glad to know that, boy. Meant to drop in on you before. I must hurry along now. Of course, if Tag shows up about your camp, you won't tell him that you've seen me." "Certainly not, sir," nodded Dick. "We'll also try to get word to you, if we see him. Where is your home?" "Five Corners is my address," replied the deputy. "So long, boys! Glad to have seen you again." The cat-footed deputy was soon lost to sight among the trees. Dave was the first to speak, and that was some moments later. "Dick, you're foolish to feel any liking for Tag Mosher. He's bad all the way through. As it was he was locked up on a charge of possible manslaughter, and now he has escaped, taking with him firearms and ammunition enough to rid the county of peace and police officers. He'll do it, too, if he's cornered. Now, where's the good in that kind of a pest?" "I don't know how to answer you," sighed Dick. "Perhaps I am foolish, but I'm not yet prepared to admit it. Instead, I still contend that I feel a sneaking liking for poor Tag." "'Poor Tag,' indeed!" mimicked Tom Reade. "Poor wives and kids of the deputy sheriffs whom Tag may shoot down in their tracks before he's cornered at last! Dick, young Mosher is a budding outlaw and a bad egg all around." "No decent citizen should feel any sort of sympathy for him," affirmed Harry Hazelton. "Let Dick alone," objected Greg Holmes. "Dick generally knows what he's about, even in regard to his emotions and sympathies."