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 tering any of his curious neighbors, and after fitting up the box trap so that it would give Redcoat a little more air, he loaded him into the back of the Ford truck and started for the Sheerfield Silver Fox Farm. He intended to lose no time in getting his money, besides he was afraid to keep the sly fox for any length of time as he might escape in some way. As for Redcoat, he had no idea where they were going or what was to become of him. He had heard Bud coming up the mountain even before Bud had discovered that the trap was sprung. As the trap was resting on the ground, Bud's footsteps had sounded to the tense ears of the fox like the tread of a "Fe-Fi-Fo-Fum" giant. When Bud had peered into the trap, Redcoat had quickly turned his head and looked in another direction. Once he had peered out of the peek hole in the back of the trap where the spindle had been, and had watched his mountain gradually recede. He did not know, but that was the last glimpse he ever had of his beloved mountain, the stronghold that had sheltered