CHAPTER IX 



ONE evening — after dinner, be it noted — I 

 was boasting vain-gloriously of the love 

 my hounds bore me, and how they would 

 recognize me anywhere and at any time, 

 even if I were not arrayed in my hunting kit or a 

 kennel coat. 



A certain sportive guest, who would wager on 

 anything and to any amount, broke in — 



** Here, old Cockie, Til bet you you won't go down 

 to the kennels here and now, just as you are, boiled 

 shirt, dinner-jacket and all, walk right into the dor- 

 mitory department, and sit down for ten minutes 

 among your docile beauties without uttering word or 

 sound." 



** Done with you. Why not ? '* 



Here the discreet and watchful Ted broke in. 



** Don't be a fool, Cockie ! No matter how 

 devoted our — note the possessive plural — hounds, a 

 sudden rush and scrimmage would probably occur ; 

 you might slip, and then some fool hound would be 

 sure to set about you viciously. Once ' the worry * 

 commenced you would have the whole pack at you and 



no 



