"I believe there will be a frost to-morrow morning," declared Kenneth
St. Ives, as the boys were gathered in the summerhouse that evening. "It
has turned very cold within an hour, and there is not a breath of wind.
If there is a frost look out for sport."
"What sort of sport?" eagerly asked Harry Rattleton. "Something we can
all take part in?"
"Sure."
"Name it."
"Fox hunt."
"Jupiter! That will be great."
"We've got as fine a pack of hounds as can be found in this part of the
country, although it is not a large pack," said Kenneth; "and we have
the foxes. Every one of you fellows who can ride may take part in the
hunt."
"I'm pretty sure I shall have another chill to-morrow." mumbled
Browning. "I wouldn't dare start out on a hunt."
"Rats!" cried Rattleton. "The trouble with you is----"
"Let Browning stay behind and take things easy," said Hodge, quickly.
"The rest of us can go. For real sport, give me a fox hunt."
"Yaw!" nodded Hans; "dot peen der sbort vor you, hoch. I peen britty
coot at dot."
"Hev yeou got guns for ther hull on us?" asked Ephraim.
"Guns?" cried Kenneth, astonished.
"Yeh."
"What do you want of guns?"
"Why, to shoot the gol darn fox with, of course!"
"But what do you want to shoot him for?"
"Hey!" gasped the astonished Vermonter. "Haow be yeou goin' to hunt him
if yeou don't shoot him?"
"Why, we hunt foxes on horses, and let the dogs run them down."
"An' don't do nary bit of shootin'?"
"No."
"Wal, that's what I call a mighty slim sort of a hunt," declared Gallup,
in disgust. "Yeou oughter see Win Page hunt foxes daown hum. Give that
feller one dorg an' a good gun, and he'll go out 'most any mornin' an'
gather in two or three of the critters afore breakfast. He keeps the
door of his barn all nailed over with fox skins, an' skunk skins, an'
muskrats, an' he kin set araound the grocery store an' tell huntin'
stories fer a week at a time 'thout stoppin' to eat ur ketch his
breath."
"It is evident that Mr. Page hunts foxes in a different way and for a
different purpose than we do," smiled Kenneth.
Then Frank briefly explained to Ephraim the style of hunting foxes on
horseback for sport, but Gallup did not seem to think there could be
much sport in it that way.
"I'm sorry father had to fire Wade, the head hostler, to-night," said
St. Ives.
"Had to fire him?" questioned Frank. "What for?"
"He was drunk and insolent. But he knows more about taking charge of a
stable than any man I ever saw, and he kept our hunters in fine
condition. He has been drinking too much lately, however, and he was
getting intolerable. By the way, Merriwell, you had better look out for
him."
"Why--how is that?"
"He seemed to think you were the cause of his dismissal, and he said he
would 'make it all right.' He's got a bad temper when he's boozing."
"Why, I didn't say anything to your father about Wade."
"I know it, but I told father about your trouble with him, and it is
possible that's why father was so ready to get rid of the fellow. Father
insists that his guests shall be treated properly by everybody connected
with the place."
"If Mr. Wade knows what's good for him, he'll let Merry alone," declared
Rattleton.
"He may not be seen around here again," said Kenneth. "Father told him
to get away and stay away."
The boys' discussed the prospect of a hunt and grew very enthusiastic
over it, with the exception of Browning. Hodge was aroused, for he
fancied he saw his opportunity of making evident the fact that he was
quite as good a horseman as Diamond, whom he could not help envying for
the glory he had won at polo.
Bart had not been able to change his nature, and so he frequently was
jealous of others, although he tried to suppress and conceal the fact,
and, when he considered it in cold blood, he was always disgusted with
himself.
Kenneth said the visitors at the house, those who had arrived that day
and remained there, had been talking of a hunt, but it was not thought
probable there would be an opportunity thus early in the season. The
cold turn would be sure to arouse their expectations, however, and he
would see that they were prepared for what might happen in the morning.
"I'll guarantee a mount for every one who cares to go," he said; "so
don't any one worry about getting left."
The prospect of such sport seemed to revive Hodge, and he challenged
Rattleton to a game of billiards, which challenge was promptly accepted.
St. Ives rang the bell for a colored boy, who lighted up the
billiard-room, and soon Bart and Harry were at it, while the others lay
around and looked on.
St. Ives motioned to Frank and Jack.
"You fellows come with me," he said. "I've something to show you."
They followed, and he took them out to the huge dog kennel, which was a
house by itself, located under the trees by the stables. Their approach
aroused the dogs, but the sound of St. Ives' voice quieted them, and the
boys entered. Kenneth lighted two lamps, while the dogs frolicked around
him.
"Down, Bruiser--down!" he ordered. "Off Pirate! Away, Madge--get out!"
The dogs obeyed him reluctantly,
"There, fellows," he cried, proudly, "what do you think of them? I say
they are all right, and they are dying for a run. I reckon they will get
it in the morning."
Frank and Jack looked the dogs over critically. Diamond's eyes gleamed
and he called Pirate to his feet.
"Here is the old dandy for any sum!" cried the Virginian. "That dog will
be in at the death if he can keep a foot under him."
Kenneth nodded.
"Pirate is a great hunter," he said; "but he doesn't run away from Madge
very often."
For half an hour they looked the dogs over, and then left the kennel.
"I'll have to go into the house, and see what the others think about
it," said St. Ives. "Won't you come in, fellows?"
"No," said Diamond; "I am too tired."
"I'm tired myself," confessed Frank. "I think we'll roll into our beds
very soon."
The boys strolled down past the summerhouse, while Kenneth went into the
mansion. Through a window Frank and Jack could see the billiard players
at work, and they heard Rattleton shout with laughter at some fluke
Hodge made.
"It strikes me this is the last round of sport before we get back to the
grind," said Jack.
"Yes," said Frank, somewhat sadly; "we've had our summer's whirl, and
it's over; but it was fun while it lasted."
Arm in arm, they walked down through the garden. They did not take the
gravel path, but kept on the grass. Their feet made no noise, and they
were silent, as both were thinking of their varied adventures since
starting westward on the bicycle tour.
All at once they heard voices, and stopped suddenly.
"Catch your chance, Bill. A hundred for the boy and two hundred for the
man. You do not like either of them, so----"
"Like 'em! Cuss 'em, I hate 'em! I'll do it if I git a good chance."
"That is settled, then. You'd better get away from here, for you don't
want to be seen. Good-night."
"Good-night."
Frank leaped toward the bushes beyond which the voices sounded. They
were thick, and he broke through with difficulty. When he reached the
other side, he could hear the sound of running feet in dull retreat, but
both men were gone.
Frank started in pursuit, but the ones who were running away seemed to
know the turns of the garden walks better than he did, for both got
away.
Diamond found Merriwell near the summerhouse chewing his lip and
standing in an attitude that expressed mingled rage and disgust.
"Didn't catch either of them, did you?" asked Jack.
"No," was the answer; "but I think I know them both. They were the
discharged hostler and Steve Fenton, or I'm daffy."