where he had turned back he put the hounds on again. "How do
you know there were more than one here?" I asked.

"Because, if noth'n' else, this trail at first was a fool's trail and
now it's as smart as cats a-fight'n'--_look 'em out, Dandy_! Every
time the rascals struck a swimmin'-hole they swum it, the men sort o'
tote'n' the women, I reckon--_ah, my Charmer! Yes, my sweet lady! take
'em! take 'em_!"

As the stream emerged into an old field--"Sun's pow'ful hot for
you-all!" Hardy added. "Ain't see' such a day this time o' year fo' a
coon's age. Hosses feel'n' it. Hard to say which is hottest, sun or
brush."

We had skirted the branch a full mile, beating its margin thoroughly,
and were in deep woods again, when all at once Charmer let out a glad
peal. Her mate echoed it and with the stream at their back they were
off and away in full cry. The trail was broad and strong and with rare
breaks continued so for an hour. Often the dogs made us trot; in open
grounds we galloped. Once, in a thickety wet tract where the still air
was suffocating and a sluggish runlet meandered widely, Hardy was
forced, after long hinderance, to drop the trail and recover it on a
rising ground beyond.

There once more we were making good speed when we burst into an open
grove where about a small, unpainted frame church a saddle-horse was
tied under every swinging limb. Before the church a gang of boys had
sprung up from their whittling to be our gleeful spectators. Hardy
waved them off with the assurance that we wanted neither their help nor
company, and though the trail took us at slackened speed around two
sides of the building we passed and were gone while the worshippers
were in the first stanza of a hymn started to keep them on their
benches.

Noon, afternoon; we made no pause. "It's ketch 'em before night," said
Hardy as we bent low under beech boughs, "or not till noon to-morrow."

About mid-afternoon one of the court-house boys, who had been talking
softly with the other, turned back with a bare good-by. His friend
explained:

"Got to be at his desk early in the morning. But I'm with you till you
run 'em down."

Happy for me that he was mistaken. Two hours more were hardly gone
when, "My Prince is sick!" he cried, drew in, and under a smoke of his
own curses began wildly to unsaddle. Hardy rode on.

"You'll have to get another mount," I said.

"Another hell! I wouldn't leave this horse sick in strange ha