. Less see ye?"

The Boy stepped down to the dog's side.

"Look out, ye fool, don't let yer foot slip in thar!" his father
warned.

The Boy knelt beside the dog, patted his back and began to talk to him
in low tense tones:

"Fetch 'im out, Bone! Go after 'm! Sick 'em, boy, sick 'em!"

Closer and closer the brave old fighter edged his way, only a low mad
growl answering to the Boy's urging. His eyes were blazing now in the
red rays of the rising sun like two balls of fire. With a sudden savage
plunge he hurled himself into the den and quick as a flash of lightning
his short hairy neck gave a flirt, and a coon as large as one of the
hounds whizzed ten feet into the air, and, with his white teeth shining,
struck the ground, lighting squarely on his feet. A hound dashed for him
and one slap from the long sharp claws sent him howling and bleeding
into the canes.

But old Boney had watched him in the air, and, circling the pack that
faced the coon, with a quick leap had downed him. Then every dog was
with him and the battle was on. Eight dogs to one coon and yet so sharp
were his claws, so keen the steel-like points of his teeth, he sometimes
had four dogs rolling in agony beside the growling mass of fur and teeth
and nails.

The fight had scarcely begun when one of the remaining coons leaped out
of the den. Tom's watchful eye had seen him. He pulled three dogs from
the first battle group and hurled them on the new fighter. He had
scarcely started this struggle when the third sprang to the top of the
earthen breastwork, surveyed the field and with sullen deliberation,
trotted to the water's edge, jumped in and, placing two paws on a
swaying limb, dared any dog to come.

Here was work for the veteran! Boney was the only dog in the pack who
would dare accept that challenge. Tom choked him off the first coon,
pulled him to the bank and showed him his enemy in the water. He looked
just a moment at the snarling, daring mouth and made the plunge.

The boy had followed the dog and watched with bated breath. He circled
the coon twice, swimming in swift graceful curves. But his enemy was too
shrewd. A flank movement was impossible. The coon's fierce mouth was
squarely facing him at every turn and the dog plunged straight on his
foe.

To his horror the Boy saw the fangs sink into his friend's head, four
sets of sharp claws circle his neck, a tense grey ball of fur hanging
its dead weight below. The water ran red for a mome