This may have come from the fact that the scent was keener, as they got out so close upon their game.

But I think they must have changed their fox.
Maxwell, who saw him go, swore that he was fresh and clean.

Burgo said that he knew it to be the same fox, but gave no reason.

"Same fox! in course it was; why shouldn't it be the same ?" said Tom.

The country gentleman who had dropped from heaven was quite sure that they had changed, and so were most of those who had ridden the road.
Pollock confined himself to hoping that he might soon be killed, and that thus his triumph for the day might be assured.
On they went, and the pace soon became too good for the poor author.
His horse at last refused a little hedge, and there was not another trot to be got out of him.