Do you bring the--dog, Giles.
Remember, it was a dog, not a fox."
Then they went to the pollard, and as Giles's hand was hurt the
Red-faced Man climbed up it, though Giles tried to prevent him.
"Now then, Giles," he said, "give me the fox--I mean the dog, and I will
drop it down. Great Heavens! how this tree stinks. Has there been an
earth here?"
"Not as I knows of, Squire," said Giles sullenly.
Grampus stretched his hand down into the hollow of the pollard and
dragged up a rotting fox by its tail.
"Giles," he said, "you have been killing more foxes and hiding them in
this tree. Giles, I dismiss you at once and without a month's wages."
"All right, sir," said Giles, "I'll go, and I prays you'll find some one
what will keep your hares which you must have, and your pheasants which
you must have, and your partridges which you must have, without killing
these varmints of foxes what eats the lot."
The Red-faced Man descended from the tree holding his nose and looked at
Giles. Giles sucked his bleeding hand and looked at him.
"Foxes are very destructive animals," said the Red-faced Man to Giles,
"especially when one shoots and keeps harriers."
"They are that, sir," said Giles to the Red-faced Man, "as only those
know what has to do with them."
"Put the other in, Giles," said the Red-faced man, "and when you have
time, throw some soil on to the top of the lot. This place smells
horrible. And look you here, Giles," he added in a voice of thunder, "if
ever I find you killing a fox upon this property, you will be dismissed
at once, as I have often told you before.
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