'" responded Dave, "I don't
believe there is anything that Tag Mosher would be afraid to do
at a pinch."

Owing to the storm it was dark in the great woods. Shadows were
deceptive. Though Dick and Dave ran on at pell-mell speed they
presently came to a sudden halt, looking inquiringly at each other.

"Which way did that fellow go?" demanded Dave.

"Blessed if I know," Dick admitted.

"Are we still on the right trail, and merely a mile behind him?"

"I wish I knew even that," admitted Prescott.

"We might as well go back," proposed Darry. "In these woods all
we'll get is---wet."

"All right," nodded Prescott. Discouraged with the chase, they
turned to retrace their way nearly half a mile through the soggy,
dripping woods. They had not gone far on their return when they
came upon Tom and Greg.

"Hello, where have you fellows been?" asked Reade.

"We weren't very far ahead of you," Dick answered.

"Greg and I didn't see or hear you ahead."

"And Tag Mosher was just as invisible and unfindable to us," laughed
Dick, "so we came back."

"I'm growing disgusted," muttered Dave, "with the stupid way that
we let that fellow carry off all of our property. It begins to
look as though we ought to camp in one of our own back yards,
where our parents can keep a watchful eye over us and protect
us!"

There could be no doubt that Darry was completely angry. Had
he encountered young Mosher at that moment he would have "sailed
into" the thief with his fists, regardless of any consequences
that might follow.

"Well, shall we go on hunting for him?" demanded Dick.

"It's just as Darry says," offered Tom, "I'm willing to remain
out in this weather if Dave wants to."

"Oh, what's the use?" grumbled Dave. "That fellow knows the woods
a hundred times better than we do, and he has made his get away.
Did you leave anyone back at the camp?"

"Dan and Harry are there," nodded Tom.

"We may as well join them," sighed Dave. So the party headed
toward camp.

Just as they stepped out into the clearing, they sighted a rubber-coated
party of three men entering the clearing from the direction of
the road.

"Why, that must be our friends, Hibbert, Colquitt and Mr. Page!"
announced Prescott, halting, then running forward. "They must
have gotten our note at last. Oh, Mr. Hibbert!"

The three travelers waved their hands. Then it was the oldest
of the trio who ran at top speed in an effort to reach Prescott
quickly.