CHAPTER XXXIII. 



It was what Joe Summers had said that tended to restore 

 Lavvy's equanimity. When she arrived at the kennels she 

 left the hounds and rode away after saying, " They've played 

 me a trick, Summers ". Ned Barlow had, however, given 

 full details from the moment of the holloa away to that of the 

 discovery of Bill Hart in the well. 



"You couldn't have done anything else, miss," Summers 

 had said when Lavvy interviewed him an hour later. " Of 

 course if you'd got away with 'em and seen how they was 

 running it might have been different ; but I know that Ash- 

 bed and where you were. Bless you, miss, you ain't the only 

 one. Twice they tried it on me, and once they nearly caught 

 me though I was close up ; 'twas a bad scenting day as I 

 thought, and then I happened to see the footmarks of a man 

 across a new-sown field of vetches. Once, too, they tried it on 

 the master, but he had no young hounds out, and those he 

 had wouldn't own the line, though some one holloaed and 

 swore a fox was just gone." 



" And what did uncle do ? " Lavvy asked. 



"Well, miss, what he said I shouldn't like to repeat ; but 

 he made it plain that either he or those as holloaed were 

 going home." 



" But how did he know for a certainty?" 



" He happened to see a bit of fur on a bramble on top of a 

 hedge. The worst of it is it makes one a bit suspicious, and 

 I don't say I haven't lost a run in my time by not going at 

 once to a holloa that didn't sound right. But don't you mind, 

 miss. It won't be done again in a hurry." 



" And you don't think it was my fault ? " 



270 



