Two of the men had dismounted.

One of these, stripped to his shirt and breeches, was leaning on a long-handled spade and laughing.

The other--a fellow in a shabby scarlet coat--held up what Taffy guessed to be a fox, though it seemed a very small one.

It was bleeding.

The hounds yapped and leapt at it, and fell back a-top of each other snarling, while the Whip grinned and kept them at bay.