In a twinkling Tag wheeled about, listening, peering. Then, straight toward Prescott he came.
"Oh, it's you, is it?" demanded young Mosher harshly.
"Yes," Prescott admitted, speaking as steadily as he could, though his heart sank for the moment. He knew that Tag would have time to give him a beating that would be doubly severe in his present condition of weakness and pain. That beating could be given in a few swift seconds, and the help within reach of Dick's voice could not arrive until young Mosher had had time to slip away among the trees of the forest that he knew so well. "What do you want with me?" demanded Tag, bringing his leering face closer to Prescott's.
CHAPTER XIV
THRASHING AN AMBULANCE CASE!
"I want you to stand right where you are until some of my friends come," Dick made answer.
Then he braced himself for the violent assault that, he felt, was sure to come. To his intense astonishment, however, Tag heaved a sigh of dejection, then muttered:
"I may as well do it. You owe me a grudge, anyway, and you've got the upper hand this time."
What on earth could it mean? For a brief instant Dick almost believed that the exciting incidents of the night had been but parts of a dream. But he raised his voice to shout:
"Dave! Oh, Dave! Come here! You, too, Greg."