trees,
being made secure in the forks of the lower limbs of the trees.
The dummy itself had been made of old sail canvas and excelsior.
It was not a very impressive-looking object, but it made a good
substitute for the football dummies manufactured by sporting goods
houses.

It was a little more than a week since the night when Tag Mosher
had been captured. Dick's hip which had been pronounced by Doctor
Cutting as only bruised and strained, had now mended so far that
nothing wrong could be observed in his gait. In fact, Prescott
had all but ceased to remember the accident.

For the others, the days had been full of football training, with
long tramps and fishing and berrying jaunts thrown in for amusement.
Now that Tag Mosher was safely locked up in the county jail there
had been no more raids on the food supplies of the camp. It was
now necessary, therefore, to leave but one boy at a time in the
camp, and Dick, while his hip was mending, had usually been that
one.

Every member of Dick & Co. was brown as a berry. Muscles, too,
were beginning to stand out with a firmness that had never been
observed at home in the winter time. Enough more of this camping
and hard work and training, and Dick & Co. were likely to return
to Gridley as six condensed young giants. Nothing puts the athlete
in shape as quickly as does camping, combined with training, in
the summer time.

This morning the work had begun with practice kicks, passing from
that to the work of tackling the dummy. Two hours of hard work
had now been put in, and all were comfortably tired.

"Let's keep quiet and cool off," urged Dick at last. "Then for
the swimming pool and clean clothes."

"I wonder if Tag has died yet, as he expected to, now that he's
out of the forest and locked up in a jail?" mused Tom Reade aloud.

"He must be in fearfully depressed spirits," muttered Dick
sympathetically.

Dave Darrin regarded his chum curiously.

"Dick, you seem to have a positive sympathy for that fellow."

"I have," Prescott avowed promptly.

"You even seem to like him," pressed Darry.

"I do like him," Dick assented. "Darry, I believe that a lot
of good might be found in Tag Mosher if he could have the same
chance that most other fellows have. Usually, when a fellow says
he has had no chance in life, the fact really is that he has been
too lazy to take his chance. But I don't believe that Tag ever
had a real, sure-enough chance. He has spent h