Amos was dwelling on what his nephew would get in the next world, to make up for his fun in this one, and marvelling in his simple mind that the wicked could flourish like the green bay tree and nothing be done against ’em by Providence, when that happened to fill his mind very full of his own affairs again.

He was sitting with his eyes on the shaft of daylight under the stones, when suddenly it went out and for a moment disappeared.  But then, like a cork out of a bottle, something emerged, and Amos saw a long red thing sneak through and drop, panting, on its side not three yards from him.  And well he knew what it was, even if the reek hadn’t told him.  ’Twas a hunted fox that had saved its brush—­not for the first time belike—­in the old tin mine working, and that meant more to the man than a sack of diamonds just then.  He moved and the fox, little thinking to find an enemy on that side of the barrier, jumped to his feet and galloped up the passage so hard as he could pelt; while Amos strained his ears to the hole and prepared to lift his voice and have the yell of his life for salvation when the moment arrived.

How long the fox had stood afore hounds he couldn’t tell; but long or short, they’d run him to the rocks for certain, and then the prisoned man would hear ’em and try to make the hunters hear him if he could.  Hounds met at Dart Meet that day, and Gregory doubted not they’d found a fox as was had took ’em up East Dart and then away to the Vitifer mine district, where he knew he was safe.

And in ten minutes he heard hounds and in five minutes more they was got within a few yards of him, yelping and nosing t’other side of the granite.  He guessed the huntsman would soon be with ’em at the cave mouth and presently gave tongue down the road the fox had come, and after shouting thrice with all his breath, waited, and sure enough heard an answering shout.

Yes, he’d been heard screaming for his life, and presently the men outside drew off the hounds and was able to get into conversation with Amos and larn the rights of his fearful story.

It was only a question of time after that and the field gave up hunting a fox to save a man.  Labourers were sent for, and the rocks attacked in good earnest; and the huntsman did a very clever thing, for he sent his fox terrier through the hole to Amos with a packet of sandwiches tied on his back.  Presently the little dog went in again with a bottle of cordial as one of the hunters gladly gave for the purpose, for Amos Gregory was well known for a good sport, and the field felt terrible glad as they’d been called to save him.

As soon as he was in communication with the outer world, Amos had ordered one thing to be done before all else, and it was done.  So long before he’d got free, for it took five hours of desperate hard work to get to him, the police had done their bit elsewhere and arrested Ernest Gregory for the murder of his Uncle Joe.  He was spreading muck on Four Acres Field at the time and called on God to strike the constables dead for doing such a shameful deed as to suspect him.