“Suppose we haul down the tent, pack the outfit and move on down the road, looking for some trace of them,” proposed Greg.

“No; that would delay the start too much,” Tom replied, with a shake of his head.  “Whoever goes out to hunt for Dick and Dave must move fast and not be tied to a horse and wagon.  I’m going, for one.  Who will go with me?”

“I will,” promptly answered Dan, Harry and Greg, all in one breath.

“We’ll have to leave one fellow to watch the camp,” Reade answered, with a shake of his head.  “Hazy, I’m afraid the lot will have to fall to you.”

“I’d rather go with you,” Hazelton declared.

“Of course you would,” Tom assented.  “But at least one good man must stay here and look after our outfit.  So you stay, Harry, and Dan and Greg will go with me.”

“Going to take the lantern?” asked Greg, jumping up.

“Yes,” Tom nodded, “but we won’t light it unless we need it.  Just for finding our footing at some dark part of the road the electric flash light will do.”

Full of anxiety the trio set out on their search.

But in the meantime, what of Dick and Dave?

Theirs had been a busy evening.  After the first rough pummeling, which left them breathless and sore, the tramp who had directed the rough work turned to his friends of the road.

“These young gents have furnished us with some exercise,” he grinned wickedly.  “Now, suppose we make ’em supply us with a little amusement?”

“It’s risky, close to the road,” returned one of the tramps who had been back in the shadows.  “We don’t know when someone will come along and butt in on our sport.”

“Two of our crowd can go out as scouts,” replied the ringleader.

“They’d better,” nodded the adviser, “and even then we’d better take the cart, the old man and these young gents further back into the woods.”

Neither Dick nor Dave had said anything so far, for they were too sore, and too much exhausted.

At the leader’s command two men went down to the road, to watch in both directions.

“Give the whistle—–­you know the one—–­if anyone comes along that’s likely to spoil the fun,” was the ringleader’s order.

Reuben Hinman had been deprived of the last dollar in money that he had with him.  Quaking and subdued, the old man obeyed the order to mount his cart and drive the rig farther into the woods.

“Take the young gents along, and see that they behave themselves,” directed the ringleader.

Dick and Dave did not yet feel in condition to offer any resistance or defiance.  Even with the two “scouts” out on the road there were still six of the tramps left to take care of them.

The odds looked too heavy for another fight it when the last one had been so unsuccessful.

As Dick and Dave got to their feet and started along, followed and watched by the tramps, Dick tottered closer to his companion, managing to whisper: