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 o'clock and had an hour's respite from his pursuers, but by midnight he again heard the yelling of the hounds and in another half-hour they were up with him. So he sprang up from his comfortable bed and fled on through the dark night.

As the haunts of men were forsaken he took to the open country where the running was easier and gave them a stiff chase to the south.

Residents of Stockbridge heard the full cry of the pack in the small hours of the morning. As daylight was breaking the great deer again doubled back along the mountains toward his home haunts. All day Thursday he fled and the pack pursued. He was not much afraid of the mongrels, but flight seemed his only course, and he did really dread having them corner him in close quarters, for the wound on his shank still stung.

By Thursday evening the old hero was beginning to tire. True, he still ran like the wonderful running machine that he was. None of them, not even Shep, could have caught him in a straightaway race, but he was beginning to