his speed was astonishing. He settled down nobly to his work, and
moved over the ground as lightly as if he had been furnished with
wings.

Had he been a well-trained dog, the boys would have felt no concern
whatever as to the issue of the race; but, as it was, they looked upon
the escape of the fox as a very probable thing. The fox was still
following the dead furrow, and Lightfoot, instead of pursuing directly
after him, as he ought to have done, took to another furrow which ran
parallel to the one the fox was following, and about four rods from
it.

The fox had a good start, but the enormous bounds of the greyhound
rapidly lessened the distance between them; he gained at every step,
and finally overtook him, and the two animals were running side by
side, and only four rods apart.

Suddenly the cunning fox turned, and started off exactly at right
angles with the course he had been following. The gray hound, of
course, had not been expecting this, and he made a dozen of his long
bounds before he could turn himself. During this time the fox gained
several rods.

As before, the hound pursued a course parallel with that of the fox,
instead of following directly after him.

In a few moments they were again running side by side, but this time
further apart than before. Again and again the fox turned, each time
nearing the woods, and gaining considerably; and finally, reaching the
end of the meadow, he cleared the fence at a bound, and disappeared in
the bushes.

"Now, that's provoking!" exclaimed Archie.

"Never mind," answered Frank. "I don't think the fox can go much
further. He must be pretty well tired out, judging by the way he ran.
Here, Sport!" he continued, "hunt 'em up!"

Sport was off like a shot, and the boys followed after as fast as
their legs could carry them.

When they reached the woods, they found Lightfoot beating about in the
bushes, as if he expected to find the fox concealed among them. Sport
was standing over the trail of the fox, as motionless as if he had
been turned into stone.

"Hunt 'em up!" shouted Frank, again--"hunt 'em up."

The hound uttered a loud bark, and instantly set off on the trail, and
Lightfoot, as before, followed close at his heels.

"Now," exclaimed Frank, "we must change our tactics."

"Yes," said Harry. "A little further on, the ridge branches off, and
there is no knowing which one the fox will follow. Come, George, we
will go this way."

And he turned and r