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 watch had caught him at last. He was in the clutches of Bud Holcome and soon he would come searching along the stream to discover if this strange clam which he had put in the water had caught any of the wild creatures. Bud always carried a thunder stick with him and Redcoat knew well what his end would be. How could it have happened? He had always been so careful. It seemed more like a dream than a reality, but as the minutes passed the clutch of the trap upon his paw became more and more real. Yes, he, the Redcoat, who prided himself on his cunning, who had eluded men, dogs, and guns so successfully, was at last caught by this stupid clam in the brook. But it could not hold him. He would soon get free. So he shook his paw violently, but it did no good. Then he crossed to the other side of the stream thinking to leave it behind, but it went with him and the clanging snake-like thing followed also. Perhaps this was helping to hold him, so he seized the chain in his teeth and shook it violently, but that did no good. Then he fell to