Another nod.
"Mr. Valden," Dick pressed, "I hope you won't think me too forward, but I believe this prisoner, and I am going to urge you to let him find comfort by sitting down and resting."
"What have you got to say about it?" demanded Mr. Valden, so brusquely that Dick flushed.
"I'm not in a position of authority, and I admit it," Prescott replied. "But I think I have a right to object when I see a human being tormented needlessly, haven't I?"
"You have no right to interfere in any way with an officer," rejoined
Valden less brusquely.
"Nor do I intend trying to interfere with a peace officer in anything proper that he does," Dick went on quietly, though with spirit. "It seems that Tag Mosher has a right to rest himself by sitting down. If he tries again to sit down, and if you stop him from so doing, then Tag, if he wishes, may have me summoned to court to tell how he was tormented. I'll be willing to tell just whatever I may see here."
Valden snorted, almost inaudibly, then turned away. Tag slid down to the ground again, resting against the tree trunk, and preserving absolute silence.
The time passed slowly, but at last Deputy Simmons came in a car, followed by another car which contained a young man whom he introduced as Dr. Cutting.
"I'll take you right back to camp," announced Dr. Cutting, after Simmons had looked over his prisoner and then introduced the physician to Prescott. "I can examine you better when I have you at your summer home and handy to your bed. Can you get into the car?"
"I can use my arms to draw myself up," Dick answered.