food supply. We pursued him, but lost him in the woods."

"Then these woods must be scoured until the boy is found!" cried
Mr. Page. "Colquitt, this is a task for you. Employ as many
more of your force of detectives as you may need, but you must
find the boy without an hour's delay."

"I must tell you something else, sir," Dick went on in a distressed
tone. "Even for my own peace of mind I must have it over with
as early as possible. Mr. Page, the boy is now roaming the woods
armed with a shotgun and a revolver. He is a fugitive from justice."

"What is that you say?" cried Mr. Page, his face growing haggard
and ghastly. "My boy----my son---a fugitive from justice!"

"He may not be your son, sir," broke in Tom Colquitt.

Then the whole story came out. With it Dick described the birthmarks
he had seen on Tag when the latter was at the swimming pool.

"That's my boy---my son!" declared Mr. Page. "And, oh! To think
of the fate that has come upon him. Wanted, perhaps for homicide!"

Then suddenly the flash of determination returned to the father's
eyes. He rose, stood erect, and went on:

"If he is my son, he needs guidance, aid---protection of such rights
as he may still have left. Above all, he must surrender himself
and go back to face the laws of the land like a man! If he has
done wrong, he must bow to the decision of a court, whatever that
may be. If this boy is my son, I will see to it that he does
all of this. If he is not my son, then-----"

"Then you will do well to drop him like a piece of hot metal,"
interposed the detective quietly.

"Silence!" flashed Mr. Page. "If Tag Mosher is not really my
son, then I will stand by his last spark of manhood as though
he were my son, and in memory of my own boy!"

"If you will permit me," proposed Tom Colquitt, "I will go back
to the road, get into the car and order your man to drive me to
the county jail. There I will see old Bill Mosher, and drag the
truth out of him. What Mosher has to say will be to the point."

"Go, by all means!" pleaded Mr. Page, who had now sunk down into
his seat trembling.

"And I'll go with him," declared Hibbert, jumping up. "Cheer
up, my old friend, and we'll find out all the facts that there
are to be learned. We'll be back here as speedily as possible."

The hours passed---hours of rain at the camp. It was a deluge that
kept all hands in the tent, though even that place was wet. A
pretense of supper was