lly took a
couple of fences when the hounds veered to the left.

"Our Jasper county friend has saved 'Old Sandy,' Miss de Compton," I
said, "but he has given us an opportunity of witnessing some very fine
sport. The fox is so badly frightened that he may endeavor in the
beginning to outfoot the dogs, but in the end he will return to his
range, and then I hope to show you what a cunning old customer he is. If
Flora doesn't fail us at the critical moment, you will have the honor of
wearing his brush on your saddle."

"Youth is always confident," replied Miss de Compton.

"In this instance, however, I have the advantage of knowing both hound
and fox. Flora has a few weaknesses, but I think she understands what is
expected of her to-day."

Thus bantering and chaffing each other, we turned our horses' heads in a
direction [v]oblique to that taken by the other hunters, who, with the
exception of Tom Tunison and Jack Herndon, now well up with the dogs,
were struggling along as best they could. For a half mile or more we
cantered down a lane, then turned into a stubble field, and made for a
hill crowned and skirted by a growth of blackjack, through which an
occasional pine had broken, as it seemed, in a vain but noble effort to
touch the sky. Once upon the summit of the hills, we had a majestic view
upon all sides. The fresh morning breezes blew crisp and cool and
bracing, but were not uncomfortable after the exercise we had taken; and
as the clouds that had muffled up the east dispersed themselves or were
dissolved, the generous sun spread layer upon layer of golden light upon
hill and valley and forest and stream.

Away to the left we could hear the hounds, and the music of their
voices, toyed with by the playful wind, rolled itself into melodious
little echoes that broke pleasantly upon the ear, now loud, now faint,
now far and now near. The first burst of speed, which had been terrific,
had settled down into a steady run, but I knew by the sound that the
pace was still tremendous, and I imagined I could hear the silvery
tongue of Flora as she led the eager pack. The cries of the hounds,
however, grew fainter and fainter, until presently they were lost in the
distance.

"He is making a straight shoot for the Turner [v]old fields, two miles
away," I remarked, by way of explanation.

"And pray, why are we here?" Miss de Compton asked.

"To be in at the death. (The fair de Compton smiled [v]sarcastically.)
In the Turn