With that Prescott began to untie the knots. When his fingers
ached from this from of exercise, Greg took his place. Meanwhile,
Tom Reade explored the thicket where Dave had seen the plate of
steaks. There was no sign of the food taken from the camp. This
Tom made out by the aid of lighted matches, as the long shadows
were now falling in the woods.

"I'm glad, now, that you didn't cut the rope," said Dave, as at
last he stepped free. "We'll save his rope, for I hope to find
that fellow again."

"What will you do to him if you catch him?" grinned Reade.

"Maybe I'll need the rope to lynch him with," uttered Darry grimly.

Tom threw back his head, laughing heartily.

"Our dear, savage, blood-thirsty old Darry!" Reade laughed. "You
talk as vindictively as a pirate, but if you found your enemy
hurt you'd drop everything else and nurse him back into condition.
Darry, you know you would!"

"Let's get back to camp," urged Greg. "Supper is ready, but no
one has had any yet. My stomach feels like an empty balloon."

"All right, then," agreed Darrin gruffly, "though I'd sooner catch
that fellow than eat."

"That word, 'eat,' sounds like a poem!" sighed Greg, tightening