Had Scottie and Racer been foxhounds he would probably have been discovered, as the dogs had raced across the bridge twice in their search.
But not even Bud had thought of looking under this little plank bridge. So, knowing the country, and all of its features had saved the fox his rooster and his skin that time.
This policy also applied to all sorts of cover. A thick tangle of blackberry bushes, a sheer cliff, where there was an unseen way of escape. Tangles of laurel in the great swamp. All of these things were a part of Redcoat's equipment with which he fought his many enemies.
The north side of Redcoat's mountain which faced towards the Holcome farm was not as precipitate as was the west side which faced the larger meadows, and the great river; the side towards the city where the Fox Club lived. But at one spot the northern side was very precipitate. In fact there was an almost sheer drop of sixty feet.
Redcoat was always prowling around finding new trails and short cuts to his favorite
