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FTER the two wild rushes made at the fence as described in the last chapter Redcoat concluded that discretion was the better part of valor, so he slunk into the further corner of the enclosure and crouched upon the ground, watching Bud and Mr. Jennings as long as they stayed in the pen. For five minutes the two men stood admiring the fox and talking eagerly. Mr. Jennings fairly feasted his eyes upon him, for in all his experience of breeding captive foxes he had never seen one that could compare with Redcoat. Several times he held up the lantern that he might get a better view, and the Red Flower in the strange thing made Redcoat blink and partly close his eyes. But finally even Mr. Jennings was satisfied and they went away, after locking both the door to the pen and the gateway in