178 THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 



" but I saw none as we hastily separated 

 them." 



" You have acted well," said the Squire, 

 " and we must continue the same prompt 

 and sound judgment. Shoot that hound 

 instantly." 



No sooner was the order given than Mark 

 produced a long, single-barrelled flint gun, 

 with which he was in the habit of slaughter- 

 ing rats about the precincts of the kennel, and 

 handed it to Will. 



"Do it for me," whispered he, with a 

 quivering lip. " I feel quite sick." 



Our feeder hesitated for a second or two; 

 but after a short struggle with a correspond- 

 ing reluctance to become the executioner, he 

 brought the piece to his shoulder, and drove 

 the charge crashing through Gameboy's brain. 

 Without a perceptible throe of anguish, poor 

 Gameboy fell lifeless upon the flags, and so 

 ended, to us, this terrible tragedy. 



** Before endeavouring to learn the cause of 

 the disease in him," said the Squire, " draft 

 each hound singly, and let us see whether any 

 have been bitten by him, or if the least cause 

 of fear exists that more must be destroyed." 



" I hope not, sir," returned Will, with a 



