Darting forward to the fence, Jack took down the top rails of a corner, and made a motion to Lion, who leaped over.
"Catch Snowfoot! catch Snowfoot!" said Jack, quickly placing the ear of corn in the dog's mouth.
The horse was feeding some six rods off, near Peakslow's pair, when the dog, singling him out, ran up and began to coquet with him, flourishing the ear of corn.
The boys were talking so loud, and Jack had let down the rails so gently, and Lion had sped away so silently, that the movement was not observed by the enemy until Snowfoot started for the fence. Even then the excited boys did not see what was going on. But Peakslow did.
If Snowfoot had been in his usual spirits he would have soon been off the Peakslow premises. But his long pull from Chicago had tamed him; and though hunger induced him to follow the ear of corn, it was at a pace which Jack found exasperatingly slow,—especially when he saw Peakslow running to the pasture, gun in hand, and heard him shout,—
"Let that hoss alone! I'll shoot you, and your dog and hoss too!"
Jack answered by calling, "Co' jock! co' jock! Come, lion! Come, Snowfoot! Co' jock!"
At the same time Zeph and Dud took the alarm, and ran toward the gap Jack had made,—they on one side of the fence, while Rufe raced with them on the other. Meanwhile Betterson, having coolly reloaded his discharged barrel, walked with his usual quiet, dignified step to the broken fence.
"Better keep this side," he said with deliberate politeness to Jack. "You are on my land; you've a right here."
"Oh! but that horse never will come!" said Jack. "Co' jock! co' jock!"