"Of course I don't," Dick retorted. "When two fellows fight one of them must receive a beating—-that's the sporting chance. All my feelings for Tag are of sympathy."
"Not enough so you'd let him get away, if you met him?" put in the deputy quickly.
"Of course, not, sir," Dick answered quickly flushing. "That would be as much as to say that I'm a bad citizen. If I find Tag I'll do my best to hold him until help comes. You may be sure of that."
"Then get into the car," ordered the deputy briefly. "The back part of the car is for you youngsters. That reminds me. We don't know each other's names. Mine's Simmons."
The other deputy's name proved to be Valden. The boys quickly introduced themselves.
Away went the car, over the rough roads. To avoid sending warning too far ahead the lights were turned low. On account of the condition of this rough forest road the speed was slow.
"If Tag hasn't been to your camp within three nights," said Mr. Simmons, leaning back while Mr. Valden ran the car, "then it's because he isn't in this neighborhood. So we'll travel on a few miles before we stop to do any real searching."
"I don't understand how you can expect to find anyone out here in the night time," Dick observed.
"I've some plans in my mind," was all the explanation Simmons offered.
When the road became a little better, Valden put on a bit more speed.