full length. Pan was gone. At first the bailiff thought Bevis had loosed
him, and that he had got a clue. But when he came near, he saw that the
collar was not unbuckled; Pan had worked his head out, and so escaped.

The bailiff turned the collar over thoughtfully with his foot, and felt
his scanty white beard with his hard hand; and then he went back to the
cart-house. Up in the cart-house, on the ledge of the wall beneath the
thatch, there were three or four sticks, each about four feet long and
as thick as your thumb, with the bark on--some were ground ash, some
crab-tree, and one was hazel. This one was straight and as hard as could
be. These sticks were put there for the time when the cows were moved,
so that the men might find their sticks quick. Each had his stick, and
the bailiff's was the hazel one. With the staff in his hand the bailiff
set out straight across the grass, looking neither to the right nor the
left, but walking deliberately and without hesitation.

He got through a gap in one hedge, and then he turned to the corner
making towards the rabbit-burrows, for he guessed that Pan had gone
there. As he approached he saw Bevis sleeping, and smiled, for looking
for the dog he had found the boy. But first stepping softly up to Bevis,
and seeing that he was quite right and unhurt, only asleep, the bailiff
went to the hedge and thrust his staff into the hole where Pan was at
work.

Out came Pan, and instantly down came the rod. Pan cowered in the grass;
he was all over sand, which flew up in a cloud as the rod struck him
again. "Yowp!--yow--wow--wow!" and this row awoke Bevis.

Bevis battled hard for his dog, but the bailiff had had his lunch
delayed, and his peace of mind upset about the boy, and he was
resolutely relieving himself upon the spaniel. Now the hazel rod, being
dry and stiff, was like a bar of iron, and did not yield or bend in the
least, but made the spaniel's ribs rattle. Pan could not get low enough
into the grass; he ceased to howl, so great was the pain, but merely
whimpered, and the tears filled his brown eyes. At last the bailiff
ceased, and immediately Bevis pulled out his handkerchief, and sat down
on the grass and wiped away the spaniel's tears.

"Now, measter, you come along wi' I," said the bailiff, taking his hand.
Bevis would not come, saying he hated him. But when the bailiff told him
about the hunt there had been, and how the people were everywhere
looking for him, Bevis bega