“Now you’re beginning to talk reasonable,” said Grady. “I’ll discuss with you.” The words were hardly out of his mouth before hounds gave tongue riotously and went off. The fox had slipped out of the other end of the drain and old Archer had found the line. As if shot out of a gun the three Indians dashed at the stake-and-bound fence on the farther side of the road, joyously using their heavy quirts on the Major’s thoroughbreds. Skytail’s horse being hurried too much, blundered his take-off, hit above the knees and rolled over on the Chief who was sitting tight. There was a stifled grunt and then the Pawnee word “Go-dam!” Hole-in-the-Ground looked back and laughed one of the few laughs of his life. It was a joke which he could understand. Then he used the quirt again to make the most of his advantage. “That one is finished,” said Lord Ploversdale gratefully. But as the words were in his mouth, Skytail rose with his horse, vaulted up and was away. The M. F. H. followed over the fence shouting at Smith to whip off the hounds. But the hounds were going too fast. They had got a view of the fox and three whooping horsemen were behind them driving them on. The first flight of the field followed the M. F. H. out of the road and so did Mr. Carteret, and presently he found himself riding between Lord Frederic and the Major. They were both a bit winded and had evidently come fast. “I say,” exclaimed Lord Frederic, “where did you come from?” “I was cured by the Broncholine,” said Mr. Carteret, “amazing stuff!” “Is your horse fresh?” asked Lord Frederic. “Yes,” replied Mr. Carteret, “I happened upon them at the road.” “Then go after that man Grady,” said Lord Frederic, “and implore him to take those beggars home. They have been riding on hounds for twenty minutes.” “Were they able,” asked Mr. Carteret, “to stay with their horses at the fences?” “Stay with their horses!” puffed the Major. “Go on like a good chap,” said Lord Frederic, “stop that fellow or I shall be expelled from the hunt; perhaps put in jail. Was Ploversdale vexed?” he added. “I should judge by his language,” said Mr. Carteret, “that he was vexed.” “Hurry on,” said Lord Frederic. “Put your spurs in.”