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of orders intent only on thrusting his bayonet through the Hun who had
caused such acute torture to his hand。 Half way up； the rookie's feet went
out from under him in the slimy mud。 He caromed against the point； then
fell headlong。
The German； doubtless thinking he had stumbled upon a single stray
American scout； whirled his own rifle aloft； to dash out the brains of his
luckless foe。 But before the upflung butt could descend；before the rookie
could rise or dodge；the point added his quota to the rude breaking of the
night's silence。 He screamed in panic terror； dropped his brandished gun
and reeled backward； clawing at his own throat。
For out of the eerie darkness； something had launched itself at him
something silent and terrible； that had flown to the Missourian's aid。 Down
with a crash went the German； on his back。 He rolled against the
Missourian； who promptly sought to grapple with him。
But even as he clawed for the German； the rookie's nerves wrung from
him a second yellthis time less of rage than of horror。
〃Sufferin' cats！〃 he bellowed。 〃Why didn't anybody ever tell me
Germans was covered with fur instead of clothes？〃
The boche platoon was no longer striding along in hike… formation。 It
was broken up into masses of wildly running men； all of them bearing
down upon the place whence issued this ungodly racket and turmoil。
Stumbling； reeling； blindly falling and rising again； they came on。
Some one among them loosed a rifle…shot in the general direction of
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the yelling。 A second and a third German rifleman followed the example
of the first。 From the distant American trenches； one or two snipers began
to pepper away toward the enemy lines； though the fog was too thick for
them； to see the German rifle…flashes。
The boches farthest to the left； in the blind rush； fouled with the wires。
German snipers； from behind the Hun parapets； opened fire。 A minute
earlier the night had been still as the grave。 Now it fairly vibrated with
clangor。 All because one rookie's nerves had been less staunch than his
courage； and because that same rookie had not only had his hand stepped
on in the dark； but had encountered something swirling and hairy when he
grabbed for the soldier who had stepped on him！
The American lieutenant； at the onset of the clamor； sprang to his feet；
whipping out his pistol； his dry lips parted in a command to chargea
command which； naturally； would have reduced his eleven men and
himself to twelve corpses or to an equal number of mishandled prisoners
within the next few seconds。 But a big hand was clapped unceremoniously
across the young officer's mouth； silencing the half…spoken suicidal order。
Sergeant Mahan's career in the regular army had given him an almost
uncanny power of sizing up his fellowmen。 And he had long ago decided
that this was the sort of thing his untried lieutenant would be likely to do；
in just such an emergency。 Wherefore his flagrant breach of discipline in
shoving his palm across the mouth of his superior officer。
And as he was committing this breach of discipline； he heard the
Missourian's strangled gasp of：
〃Why didn't anybody ever tell me Germans was covered with fur？〃
In a flash Mahan understood。 Wheeling； he stooped low and flung out
both arms in a wide…sweeping circle。 Luckily his right hand's fingertips； as
they completed the circle； touched something fast…moving and furry。
〃Bruce！〃 he whispered fiercely； tightening his precarious grip on the
wisp of fur his fingers had touched。 〃Bruce！ Stand still； boy！ It's YOU
who's got to get us clear of this！ Nobody else； short of the good Lord； can
do it！〃
Bruce had had a pleasantly lazy day with his friends in the first…line
trenches。 There had been much good food and more petting。 And at last；
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Bruce
comfortably tired of it all； he had gone to sleep。 He had awakened in a
most friendly mood； and a little hungry。 Wherefore he had sallied forth in
search of human companionship。 He found plenty of soldiers who were
more than willing to talk to him and make much of him。 But； a little
farther ahead； he saw his good friend； Sergeant Mahan； and others of his
acquaintances； starting over the parapet on what promised to be a jolly
evening stroll。
All dogs find it hard to resist the mysterious lure of a walk in human
companionship。 True； the night was not an ideal one for a ramble； and the
fog had a way of congealing wetly on Bruce's shaggy coat。 Still； a damp
coat was not enough of a discomfort to offset the joy of a stroll with his
friends。 So Bruce had followed the twelve men quietly into No Man's
Land； falling decorously into step behind Mahan。
It had not been much of a walk； for speed or for fun。 For the humans
went ridiculously slowly； and had an eccentric way of bunching together；
every now and again； and then of stringing out into a shambling line。 Still；
it was a walk； and therefore better than loafing behind in the trenches。 And
Bruce had kept his noiseless place at the Sergeant's heels。
Thenlong before Mahan heard the approaching tramp of feet Bruce
caught not only the sound but the scent of the German platoon。 The scent
at once told him that the strangers were not of his own army。 A German
soldier and an American soldier because of their difference in diet as
well as for certain other and more cogent reasonshave by no means the
same odor； to a collie's trained scent； nor to that of other breeds of war…
dogs。 Official records of dog…sentinels prove that。
Aliens were nearing Bruce's friends。 And the dog's ruff began to stand
up。 But Mahan and the rest seemed in no way concerned in spirit thereby
though； to the dog's understanding； they must surely be aware of the
approach。 So Bruce gave no further sign of displeasure。 He was out for a
walk； as a guest。 He was not on sentry…duty。
But when the nearest German was almost upon them； and all twelve
Americans dropped to the ground； the collie became interested once more。
A German stepped on the hand of one of his newest friends。 And the friend
yelled in pain。 Whereat the German made as if to strike the stepped…on
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Bruce
man。
This was quite enough for loyal Bruce。 Without so much as a growl of
warning； he jumped at the offender。
Dog and man tumbled earthward together。 Then after an instant of
flurry and noise； Bruce felt Mahan's fingers on his shoulder and heard the
stark appeal of Mahan's whispered voice。 Instantly the dog was a
professional soldier once morealertly obedient and resourceful。
〃Catch hold my left arm； Lieutenant！〃 Mahan was exhorting。 〃Close
up； there； boysevery man's hand grabbing tight to the shoulder of the
man on his left！ Pass the word。 And you； Missouri； hang onto the
Lieutenant！ Quick； there！ And tread soft and tread fast； and don't let go；
whatever happens！ Not a sound out of any one！ I'm leading the way。 And
Bruce is going to lead me。〃
There was a scurrying scramble as the men groped for one another。
Mahan tightened his hold on Bruce's mane。
〃Bruce！〃 he said； very low； but with a strength of appeal that was not
lost on the listening dog。 〃Bruce！ Camp！ Back to CAMP！ And keep
QUIET！ Back to camp； boy！ CAMP！〃
He had no need to repeat his command so often and so strenuously。
Bruce was a trained courier。 The one word 〃Camp！〃 was quite enough to
tell him what he was to do。
Turning； he faced the American lines and tried to break into a gallop。
His scent and his knowledge of direction were all the guides he needed。 A
dog always relies on his nose first and his eyes last。 The fog was no
obstacle at all to the collie。 He understood the Sergeant's order； and he set
out at once to obey it。
But at the very first step； he was checked。 Mahan did not release that
feverishly tight