“I can use my arms to draw myself up,” Dick answered.

“Then let me see how well you can do it,” urged the young physician, stepping back to watch Prescott, yet ready to assist him if necessary.

Dick got himself into the tonneau of the car, after some painful effort.

“Doc, you’ll take the boys back to their camp, won’t you?” called Simmons.

“Certainly.”

“And remember, Prescott,” called Simmons, “you’ve been aiding the county to-night, and the county will pay Doctor Cutting’s bill.”

Valden and Simmons exchanged some words in an undertone, after which the latter deputy came over to where Prescott sat.

“Valden tells me you have been interfering between him and Tag Mosher,” began the officer.  “How was it?”

Dick gave a quick, truthful account of his interference.

“You did right, Prescott,” agreed Simmons, gripping the boy’s hand.  “Remember that any citizen has a right to interfere when he sees a prisoner being abused.  Valden is a good fellow at bottom, and he’s a brave fighter in time of real trouble.  But he’s just like a lot of other policemen who feel that they have to get all the evidence in a case.  All a peace officer has to do is to find a criminal and make the arrest.  It’s the district attorney’s business to get the evidence, but there are a good many peace officers to whom you can’t teach that.  Prescott, the next time you see a prisoner being abused you are to do the same as you did this time.  I hope your hip will soon be all right again.  I’ll try to look in on you in a day or two at your camp.  Thank you for what you did for law and order to-night.  Good night!”

CHAPTER XV

THE INTERRUPTION OF A TRAINING BOUT

“Hazelton, the trouble with you is that you tackle a dummy just the way you’d catch a sack of potatoes that was being thrown out of a burning house!” laughed Dick.

“I don’t see any other way to tackle a dummy,” grunted Harry, looking puzzled.

“Why, you are supposed to tackle the dummy just as you’d tackle a running football player coming toward you,” Prescott rejoined.  “Greg, stand off there about fifty yards.  At the word, run straight toward Harry.  Hazelton, you grab hold of Holmes and don’t let him get by you.  Just hang on, and try to put him on the ground at that.  All ready, Greg!  Run.  Tackle him, Harry!”

This time Hazelton entered into the play with great zest.  Just in the nick of time he leaped at Greg, tackled him and bore him to the ground.

“That’s the way!” cheered Dick.  “Now, you look alive, Hazelton.”

“That was because I had something to tackle that was alive,” Harry retorted.  “It’s much easier to tackle a living fellow than a stuffed dummy.  What’s the good of using the dummy, anyway, when we have plenty of live fellows around here?”