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 for the cleverest fox who ever led hounds upon a wild goose chase. Something must be done to prevent it, but what? Bud himself felt utterly powerless, yet something must be done.

That night, when Bud went in to supper, he found a letter beside his plate on the supper table which added greatly to his resolve to do something to save Redcoat from his impending doom. The letter was from a friend, one Mr. Jennings, the manager and part owner of the Sheerfield Silver Fox Farm, forty miles further up the river. Mr. Jennings was a friend of the family, and Bud had several times visited at the farm. The letter read as follows:

"Dear Bud: Do you remember the blue foxes which I had just received from Alaska when you were here last? Well they are looking fine, and I think raising them is going to be a success. For years I have had a dream of crossing these blues with our ordinary red fox, and I am now in need of a fine male specimen of the red fox. Whatever became of that clever red fox which