Tito 



Lincoln had put in poison enough for a dozen 

 Coyotes. Had he put in less she could not 

 have felt the pang till too late, but she recovered 

 and never forgot that peculiar smell that means 

 such awful after-pains. More than that, she 

 was ready thenceforth to fly at once to the 

 herbal cure that Nature had everywhere pro- 

 vided. An instinct of this kind grows quickly, 

 once followed. It had taken minutes of suffering 

 in the first place to drive her to the easement. 

 Thenceforth, having learned, it was her first 

 thought on feeling pain. The little miscreant did 

 indeed succeed in having her swallow another 

 bait with a small dose of poison, but she knew 

 what to do now and had almost no suffering. 



Later on, a relative sent Lincoln a Bull-ter- 

 rier, and the new combination was a fresh 

 source of spectacular interest for the boy, and 

 of tribulation for the Coyote. It all emphasized 

 for her that old idea to "lay low "—that is, to 

 be quiet, unobtrusive, and hide when danger 

 is in sight. The grown-ups of the household at 

 length forbade these persecutions, and the Ter- 

 rier was kept away from the little yard where 

 the Coyote was chained up. 



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