picked up three
more scraps from the mouths of other holes, and finally took the rabbit
from the ground to pack inside his jacket lining, when the dog caught
sight of Tom, and gave a sharp, angry bark.

The boy looked round, saw that he was observed, and started to run. But
realising the next moment who it was, he hesitated, stopped, and
hurriedly getting the second rabbit out of sight, put on a defiant air.

Tom smiled to himself.

"Poaching, or he wouldn't have begun to run.--I say," he said aloud,
"whose wood is this?"

"What's that got to do with you?" cried the lad insolently. "'Tain't
yours. And just you lookye here, if I ketches you sneaking arter and
watching me again, I'll give you something as'll make that other side o'
your face look swelled."

Tom involuntarily raised his hand to a tender spot on his right cheek,
left from his encounter with his cousin, and the lad grinned.

"No, not that side, t'other," said the fellow. "Now then, just you hook
it. You 'ain't no business here."

"As much business as you have," said Tom stoutly, for the lad's manner
made his blood begin to flow more freely.

"No, you 'ain't; you're only a stranger, and just come."

"Anybody must have a right to come through here so long as he isn't
poaching."

The lad gave a sharp look round, and then turned menacingly to Tom, with
his fist doubled, and thrust his face forward.

"Just you say as I've been poaching agen, and I'll let you know."

His manner was so menacing that the dog read war, and set up a few hairs
on the back of his neck, and uttered a low snarl.

"Yes, and I'll set the dog at yer too. Who's been poaching? Just you
say that again."

"You look as if you had," said Tom stoutly, but with a very
uncomfortable feeling running through him, for the dog's teeth were
white and long, and looked just the kind to get a good hold of a running
person's leg.

"Oh, I do, do I?" said the lad. "I'll soon let you know about that.
Just you tell tales about me, and I'll half smash yer. I don't know as
I won't now."

His manner was more menacing than ever, and Tom was beginning to feel
that he would be compelled to place himself upon his defence, and
signalise his coming to Furzebrough with another encounter, when,
faintly-heard, came the striking of a church clock, borne on the soft
morning breeze, arousing Tom to the fact that he must be a good way on
towards an hour's walk back to his uncle's, and bringing up me