But Tag was no longer there---not in sight, at any rate. Bending over, Prescott collected a goodly bunch of the herbs. Then, after glancing at his watch, he started back to camp. It was late when he returned. Dave was back from his swim, the table was set, and all was in readiness to sit down. "Too late to use the herbs to-day, I guess," said Tom, as Dick laid them down. "You were gone a long time, old fellow." "I had quite a way to go," Dick replied quietly. Then he cut a number of grass stalks, trimming them to different lengths. "Fellows, I want you to draw lots. I don't feel any too much like a walk to Five Corners after dinner, but if I get the short straw I'll go." "No; you'd better not try it," warned Darrin. "Your hip might begin to give you trouble before you get back. If someone has to go, let the other five draw." But Dick insisted that the draw should decide it all. "What's the matter?" asked Tom Reade shrewdly. "Have you found traces of Tag Mosher?" "I've seen him," Dick replied, "and talked with him. Come to think of it, I believe two fellows had better go. The two who are to go will be those who draw the shortest straws. All ready?" Dick covered one end of the grass stalks, so that no one could be sure as to which lot he drew. The lots fell to Reade and Darrin. "Now, tell us about the meeting," begged Hazelton. "Let's sit down and begin to eat," Prescott proposed. "As we eat I will describe the meeting." Plates passed rapidly until all were served. Then Dick told his chums the story of the meeting with Tag Mosher. CHAPTER XVII DURING THE BIG STORM "Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo!" "Who's there?" cried Dick, starting up. Then, to the accompaniment of some giggling, came in feminine tones, high-pitched, the famous battle yell of Gridley High School. "T-E-R-R-O-R-S! Wa-ar! Fam-ine! Pes-ti-lence! That's us! That's us! G-R-I-D-L-E-Y H.S! Rah! rah! rah! rah! _Gri-i-idley_!" "A lot of mere girls trying themselves out as real war-whoop artists!" uttered Reade in a tone of pretended disgust. But Dick and Dave had jumped up, and were now running for the road as fast as they could. It was ten days after the last word from Tag Mosher. The officers had been promptly notified by the messengers from Dick & Co., and presumably were still scouring the great stretches of forest, though so far without result. "How did we do it, boys?" called the laughing voice of Laura Bentley, as Dick and Dave came in sight. "Don't ask me!" begged Dave. "Girls never ought to try school yells. They ought to content themselves with waving handkerchiefs." "Mr. Smarty!" cried Clara Marshall. All eight of the girls were now in the burned clearing, surrounding the two boys laughingly, while Greg and Dan now ran up. Out of the woods near the road came Dr. and Mrs. Bentley. "Prescott," called the doctor, "we forgot to write and secure your permission for this latest vagary of mine."