to the finish, if they would. For the first time in seven years
the freshmen hounds, led by Captain Dick Prescott, had won.

"Ki-yi-yi-yi-yi!" howled the exultant fourth classmen. "And another
for Dick Prescott."

"Dick Prescott has other game on his hands now," spoke up Dan
Dalzell, one of the late arrivals.

"What's the row?" demanded the freshman who had just bagged the
seventh hare.

"Row? That's just it," nodded Dan. "Prescott caught Ripley---"

"We saw that."

"But you didn't see the finish. Ripley, as soon as he was released,
knocked Dick down."

"And _you_ came on with the hounds, Dick!" demanded Tom Reade,
incredulously.

"Badger is keeping Ripley on ice until we get back," Dan supplied,
hastily.

"Then let us get back quick!" begged Reade.

"Not too fast, though," objected Dan. "Remember, Ripley has been
getting his wind back since he stopped. Give our Dick the
same show."