“I’ve seen him,” Dick replied, “and talked with him.  Come to think of it, I believe two fellows had better go.  The two who are to go will be those who draw the shortest straws.  All ready?”

Dick covered one end of the grass stalks, so that no one could be sure as to which lot he drew.  The lots fell to Reade and Darrin.

“Now, tell us about the meeting,” begged Hazelton.

“Let’s sit down and begin to eat,” Prescott proposed.  “As we eat I will describe the meeting.”

Plates passed rapidly until all were served.  Then Dick told his chums the story of the meeting with Tag Mosher.

CHAPTER XVII

DURING THE BIG STORM

“Hoo-hoo!  Hoo-hoo!”

“Who’s there?” cried Dick, starting up.

Then, to the accompaniment of some giggling, came in feminine tones, high-pitched, the famous battle yell of Gridley High School.

“T-E-R-R-O-R-S!  Wa-ar!  Fam-ine!  Pes-ti-lence!  That’s us!  That’s us!  G-R-I-D-L-E-Y H.S!  Rah! rah! rah! rah! Gri-i-idley!”

“A lot of mere girls trying themselves out as real war-whoop artists!” uttered Reade in a tone of pretended disgust.

But Dick and Dave had jumped up, and were now running for the road as fast as they could.

It was ten days after the last word from Tag Mosher.  The officers had been promptly notified by the messengers from Dick & Co., and presumably were still scouring the great stretches of forest, though so far without result.

“How did we do it, boys?” called the laughing voice of Laura Bentley, as Dick and Dave came in sight.

“Don’t ask me!” begged Dave.  “Girls never ought to try school yells.  They ought to content themselves with waving handkerchiefs.”

“Mr. Smarty!” cried Clara Marshall.

All eight of the girls were now in the burned clearing, surrounding the two boys laughingly, while Greg and Dan now ran up.

Out of the woods near the road came Dr. and Mrs. Bentley.

“Prescott,” called the doctor, “we forgot to write and secure your permission for this latest vagary of mine.”

“I don’t know what the vagary is, sir, but the permission is assured in advance,” laughed Dick.  “What are you going to do, anyway, sir?”

“I’m afraid the idea will bore you,” laughed Dr. Bentley, “but back in the road are the same two automobiles, also two two-horse wagons, loaded to the gunwales, so to speak.  We’ve brought two small, portable houses, a couple of tents, a lot of bedding and supplies, and other things needed, and we’re going to try to pitch a camp not too far from yours.  Does the information convey any jar to your spine?”

“Not a jar,” answered Dick promptly, standing with his hat off in the presence of Mrs. Bentley and the eight girls.  “The only thing I notice in the way of sensation over the news is a great thrill of delight.”