“Yet Tag has been to school,” objected Tom Reade.  “Tag talks like a fellow who has had a very fair amount of schooling.  Schools teach something more than mere book lessons.  They give a fellow some of the first principles of truth and honor.  Despite his schooling, however, Tag prefers to steal as a means of supplying all his needs.  And now, at last, he is in jail, charged, perhaps, with killing a fellow being.”

“I wonder if Mr. Leigh is dead yet?” mused Dick.  “I like being off here in the deep forest like this, but there’s one drawback.  We don’t hear much news.”

“What news do you want?” asked a familiar voice behind him.  Soft-footed Deputy Simmons stalked into the circle.

“We were just wondering, Mr. Simmons,” spoke Prescott, rising, “if Mr. Leigh is dead yet?”

“Not yet,” replied the peace officer, “but the doctors say that he is likely to die any day now.”

“Then will Tag be charged with manslaughter—–­or murder?”

“He may be charged with murder, if we can catch him,” replied the deputy.

“If you can ca-----Why, what’s up?” asked Dick eagerly.

“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?”