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The pack had found. But the scent, it seemed, was not very hot. Hope revived in Hazel. 'It'll be the old scent from yesterday, she thought. 'Maybe Foxy'll come yet! He rode a tall raw-boned animal, and looked like a monkey. Hazel did not see either him or Reddin. With fainting heart she had become aware that the hounds were no longer on an old scent.
"Cokey must have gone for a walk. Foxy'll have to find him." Prout, as the nearest house-master, was trying to restore order, for rude boys were flicking butter-pats across chaos, and McTurk had turned on the fags' tea-urn, so that many were parboiled and wept with an unfeigned dolor.
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