There was a loud whine from Whip at that moment, and a sound of very vigorous pawing and scratching away in out of sight.
"Do rabbits ever bite?" said Frank, excitedly.
"Rabbits? bite a dog?" said Carr, scornfully. "I'd back Whip all alone against all the rabbits Squire Murray's got."
Another whine from Whip, and more pawing and rustling in that mysterious place he had scratched into. Every boy of them wished he were in there with a double-barrelled gun or something.
"Tad," said Frank Perry, "maybe it isn't a rabbit. Maybe it's something big."
"Woodchucks?"
"Are there any 'coons around here nowadays?"
"Haven't seen any; but the rabbits are awful big ones, some of 'em."
Yelp, yelp, yelp, from the dog inside, and his voice had a smothered and anxious sound.
"He's got him!" exclaimed Tad. But he had better have kept his hold upon Ben for a moment longer. It had been pretty hard work the last minute or so, for Ben understood every sound Whip had been making. All it had meant really was: "Ben! boys! there's a rabbit here, and he keeps just about a foot ahead of me. He's three sizes smaller than I am, and he can get through the shock faster. One of you be on the look-out for him on that further side."