for an eighth of a mile running belly to earth, leading his pursuers in a wonderful run, and for the first time in his life Bud noted how small the fox was in comparison with his pursuers, even the tall gaunt hounds looked gigantic compared with him, and they were all pursuing him so desperately. To them it was just a jolly bit of fun, or manly sport, but to Redcoat it was a desperate life and death game. Bud could not but be impressed with his courage and the great fight he was making for his life. Could he, Bud Holcome, put up such a fight for his own life? Once again the hounds and the horsemen disappeared to the eastward and they were gone much longer than before. Bud began to think they had caught him at last, when he heard the hounds coming back. Finally he discovered poor Redcoat loping along with his tail down, and his whole aspect denoting utter fatigue. The hounds also were badly fagged out and the horses, covered with sweat and lather, were following at a dog trot. The race had told upon all, pursuer and pursued were all but "in."
