His friend Bill Hatley didn't stir. He didn't want to believe what was growing more obvious with every passing minute-Red Eagle Dick, the most promising young coonhound either of them had ever owned, was gone. Dick had been winning in the competition hunts and was well on his way to becoming a champion, but he was every bit as much fun on a midweek pleasure hunt, which was what this night had begun as. Red Eagle Dick and his brother Sam had struck a hot trail almost the moment they had hit the woods. In minutes the dogs had a big coon up a tree. The second chase was quite different, more like listening to a country music tape that has abruptly jammed. Both hounds, plus Sparky, a trainee, were baying loudly, working the trail with deliberation. Suddenly their voices became muffled, then all was quiet.