By insisting that it would take an hour to get to the place, Yan
got them started at nine o'clock, Caleb, on a suggestion from Guy,
carrying a small axe. Keeping old Turk well in hand, they took the
highway, and for half an hour tramped on toward the "Corners." Led by
Sam, they climbed a fence crossed a potato field, and reached the corn
patch by the stream.
"Go ahead, Turk. Sic him! Sic him! Sic him!" and the company sat in a
row on the fence to await developments.
Turk was somewhat of a character. He hunted what he pleased and when
he pleased. His master could bring him on the Coon grounds, but he
couldn't make him hunt Coon nor anything else unless it suited his own
fancy. Caleb had warned the boys to be still, and they sat along the
fence in dead silence, awaiting the summons from the old Hound. He had
gone off beating and sniffing among the cornstalks. His steps sounded
very loud and his sniffs like puffs of steam. It was a time of tense
attention; but the Hound wandered, farther away, and even his noisy
steps were lost.
They had sat for two long minutes, when a low yelp from a distant part
of the field, then a loud "_bow-wow"_ from the Hound, set Yan's
heart jumping.
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