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 When Bud had satisfied himself with admiring the fox he went back to reset the trap. He had stooped down to place it on a flat rock in the stream when he heard a slight rustle in the bushes behind him. Turning in great haste, he beheld Kitty Mason's Christmas present flashing through the underbrush as he had never seen a fox run before. Bud sprang for his rifle and sent a shot after the fugitive, but he merely lopped off a twig ten feet behind him. Before he could load the rifle for a second shot the fox had disappeared. Bud rubbed his eyes. He looked at the spot where he had lain the fox a minute before. Then he looked at the empty trap in the stream, and then at the thicket where Redcoat had disappeared, and burst into a peal of boyish laughter, showing that he was a good sport and a good loser.

"Well, Mr. Redcoat," he said as he set the rifle up against a tree and went back to the trap, "you fooled me this time good and plenty, but I'll get you next time or my name isn't Bud Holcome."