The fox was still following the dead furrow, and Lightfoot, instead of pursuing directly after him, as he ought to have done, took to another furrow which ran parallel to the one the fox was following, and about four rods from it.
The fox had a good start, but the enormous bounds of the greyhound rapidly lessened the distance between them; he gained at every step, and finally overtook him, and the two animals were running side by side, and only four rods apart.
Suddenly the cunning fox turned, and started off exactly at right angles with the course he had been following.

The gray hound, of course, had not been expecting this, and he made a dozen of his long bounds before he could turn himself.

During this time the fox gained several rods.
As before, the hound pursued a course parallel with that of the fox, instead of following directly after him.
In a few moments they were again running side by side, but this time further apart than before.

Again and again the fox turned, each time nearing the woods, and gaining considerably; and finally, reaching the end of the meadow, he cleared the fence at a bound, and disappeared in the bushes.
"Now, that's provoking!" exclaimed Archie.
"Never mind," answered Frank.

"I don't think the fox can go much further.