He was sure, he said, that there were at least half-a-dozen still in the bury: he only wished he might have all that he could get out of it.

But we imperiously ordered a removal.
We went some thirty yards down the mound, passing many smaller buries, and chose a spot perfectly drilled with holes.

While Little John was in the ditch putting up nets, we slily undid the ferret-bag and turned three ferrets at once loose into the holes.

'Lor! measter, measter, what be you at ?' cried Little John, quite beside himself.

'You'll spoil all on it.