As Bud saw the cunning old fox make for the south end of the stone wall where he had run the days before, a great sense of pity came over Bud. He experienced his first attack of what hunters call "Buck fever." It was not sport that he was witnessing. It was tragedy. A great cowardly lot of men and dogs were running the life out of a little red fox in order that they might squabble over his brush at the end of the chase.
But here Bud's thoughts were interrupted, as he was intently watching to see if he could discover the ruse of the Phantom Fox. As he had expected, the fox disappeared at the southern end of the wall, and Bud knew that he was running on the ground on the further side where he could not see him. Presently he appeared at the barway, but Bud was wholly unprepared for the next move. For he jumped wearily upon the wall and started trotting briskly northward. Bud gave a surprised cry of wonder and disgust.
"Oh, that will never do old chap," he said
