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 his very feet, and scattered in bright drops all along the rails for several feet. Where this bright tantalizing red fluid had come from Redcoat did not know, but he knew it smelled good.

The blood was that from the veins of an unfortunate doe which had been killed by the morning express only an hour before. Yes, Redcoat could smell the man scent all about on the road bed. The men had climbed down from the train after the engine had struck the doe and loaded her on the train and taken her to the next station. All this Redcoat did not know, but he knew that the blood upon the road bed smelled delicious. First he lapped a dozen drops up from the white snow, but the blood was much plentier on the rails, so the unsuspecting fox began lapping the blood on the cold steel. But one drop was enough for him. To his great surprise and consternation his tongue clung to the rail as though it had been caught in a trap. Not only that, but the rail sucked and pulled at his tongue until it made him whimper, gritty chap that