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 perience that made that gaunt hound very wary about following him afterwards.

Redcoat had gone to the edge of the Holcome meadows, one night just before dusk. He did not usually go so early, but preferred the friendly shadows of night, even though the moon was bright. But on this occasion Redcoat was careless, just as most good hunters are sometimes.

He had just found a frog and was about to start back to the den with it for the young foxes to play with when he heard a sharp quick bark and looking in the direction from which the sound came, he saw Scottie, the Holcome collie, racing frantically towards him, closely followed by the great greyhound whom Redcoat knew could run like the wind.

If it had been just the collie Redcoat would have laughed at the idea of a good run in the dusk, but this greyhound was a different proposition, so Redcoat dropped the frog and ran for the mountain at his best pace.

Spite of all he could do, the greyhound gained steadily on him, so when he reached