"You'll have ter go to the house an' git a spade," Tom said finally. "It'll take one ter dig a hole big enough ter ever persuade one er these dogs ter put his nose in that den. Hit ain't more'n a mile ter the house—hurry back."
Dennis started on a run.
"Don't yer let 'em out an' start that fight afore I git here!" he called.
"You'll see it all," Tom reassured him.
He made the dogs stop scratching and lie down to rest.
"Jest save yer strenk, boys," Tom cried. "Yer'll need it presently."
They sat down, the father lit his pipe and told the Boy the story of a great fight he had witnessed on such a creek bank once before in his life.
Day was dawning and the eastern sky reddening.
The Boy stamped on the solid ground and couldn't believe it possible that any dog could smell game through six feet of earth.
He lifted Boney's long nose and looked at it curiously. His wonderful nostrils were widely distended and though he lay quite still in the sand on the edge of the hole his muscles were quivering with excitement and his wistful hound eyes had in them now the red glare of coming battle.