
he was soon out of hearing. Gee, he 
could run. My horse began to fret for 
his supper, and my own stomach be- 
gan to wonder if I had forsaken it, but 
I held on to the chase. The moon, just 
starting on the wane, was clearing the 
treetops half an hour later when I 
heard him coming back, and as the cry 
was now getting farther and farther 
apart, I knew that he was rapidly clos- 
ing up the gap between himself and 
his prey. I galloped straight toward 
the chase which was now coming 
through a strip of woods compara- 
tively clear of undergrowth, and got 
there just in time to see “Tramp” pull 
him down. Thirty-seven minutes, and 
an old fox at that. “Tramp” was do- 
ing fairly well. A month later I got 
a card from a friend down in B. 
County, near the coast: “Come down 
for a week’s hunt: the Plowdens are 
coming over from Clarenden, but the 
woods are full; come over. Lem.” 
OW here was a come ashore. That 
was the name of the man who had 
advertised for “Tramp,” Plowden, and 
I was the unfortunate man who now 
had him, and what was more, wanted 
to keep him, for it seemed that I had 
the moral, if not the legal right to the 
dog: at least my conscience tried to 
hold that view, right or wrong. 
I knew some of the Plowdens: had, 
in fact, hunted with Lute and old Capt. 
Wm. Plowden over in Berkley some 
years before, a fine crowd to be with 
on a hunt, but great June, how I hated 
the thought of losing that dog. They 
were a crowd of regular sportsmen, 
and noted for their dogs, the best that 
either money or training could pro- 
cure. 
I waited a day, then wrote Lem: 
“Look for me next Wed. Will ride 
over on horseback, crossing at Lenuds’ 
Ferry.” 
The Plowdens had pitched camp half 
a mile from Lem’s, and after explain- 
ing to Lem about the dog, I proposed 
to him that we go-over after supper, 
and see if either of the men there 
claimed the dog. 
Accordingly, as soon as supper was 
over, Lem and I walked over to the 
camp, and of course “Tramp” went 
too, trotting on ahead as usual. 
‘Bas question of ownership was set- 
tled before Lem and I got there, 
for “Tramp” was holding a regular re- 
union with Lute Plowden’s dogs, while 
Plowden himself.seemed hardly able to 
express his pleasure at finding his long 
lost dog. 
It had been several years since I had 
seen Lute, but soon we were talking 
about the hunt we had been on down 
there, and then about the dog I had 
found, and of course it was apparent 


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