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CHAPTER VI。
The Werewolf
When Bruce left the quiet peace of The Place for the hell of the
Western Front； it had been stipulated by the Mistress and the Master that if
ever he were disabled； he should be shipped back to The Place； at their
expense。
It was a stipulation made rather to soothe the Mistress's sorrow at
parting from her loved pet than in any hope that it could be fulfilled； for
the average life of a courierdog on the battle… front was tragically short。
And his fate was more than ordinarily certain。 If the boche bullets and
shrapnel happened to miss him； there were countless diseasesbred of
trench and of hardship and of abominable foodto kill him。
The Red Cross appeal raised countless millions of dollars and brought
rescue to innumerable human warriors。 But in caring for humans； the
generosity of most givers reached its limit； and the Blue Cross〃for the
relief of dogs and horses injured in the service of the Allies〃was forced
to take what it could get。 Yet many a man； and many a body of men； owed
life and safety to the heroism of some war…dog； a dog which surely
merited special care when its own certain hour of agony struck。
Bruce's warmest overseas friends were to be found in the ranks of the
mixed Franco…American regiment； nicknamed the 〃Here…We…Comes。〃
Right gallantly； in more than one tight place； had Bruce been of use to the
〃Here…We…Comes。〃 On his official visits to the regiment； he was always
received with a joyous welcome that would have turned any head less
steady than a thoroughbred collie's。
Bruce enjoyed this treatment。 He enjoyed； too； the food…dainties
wherewith the 〃Here…We…Comes〃 plied him。 But to no man in the army
would he give the adoring personal loyalty he had left at The Place with
the Mistress and the Master。 Those two were still his only gods。 And he
missed them and his sweet life at The Place most bitterly。 Yet he was too
good a soldier to mope。
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* * * * * * * * * * *
For months the 〃Here…We…Comes〃 had been quartered in a 〃quiet〃or
only occasionally tumultuoussector； near Chateau…Thierry。 Then the
comparative quiet all at once turned to pandemonium。
A lanky and degenerate youth （who before the war had been
unlovingly known throughout Europe as the 〃White Rabbit〃 and who now
was mentioned in dispatches as the 〃Crown Prince〃） had succeeded in
leading some half…million fellow…Germans into a 〃pocket〃 that had lately
been merely a salient。
From the three lower sides of the pocket； the Allies ecstatically flung
themselves upon their trapped foes in a laudable effort to crush the half…
million boches and their rabbit…faced princeling into surrender before the
latter could get out of the snare； and to the shelter of the high ground and
the reenforcements that lay behind it。 The Germans objected most
strenuously to this crushing process。 And the three beleaguered edges of
the pocket became a triple…section of hell。
It was a period when no one's nerves were in any degree normal least
of all the nerves of the eternally hammered Germans。 Even the fiercely
advancing Franco…Americans； the 〃Here…We…Comes；〃 had lost the grimly
humorous composure that had been theirs； and waxed sullen and ferocious
in their eagerness。
Thus it was that Bruce missed his wontedly uproarious welcome as he
cantered； at sunset one July day； into a smashed farmstead where his
friends； the 〃Here…We…Comes；〃 were bivouacked for the night。 By instinct；
the big dog seemed to know where to find the temporary regimental
headquarters。
He trotted past a sentry； into an unroofed cattle…shed where the colonel
was busily scribbling a detailed report of the work done by the 〃Here…We…
Comes〃 during that day's drive。
Coming to a halt by the colonel's side； Bruce stood expectantly
wagging his plumy tail and waiting for the folded message from division
headquarters to be taken off his collar。
Usually； on such visits； the colonel made much of the dog。 To…day he
merely glanced up abstractedly from his writing； at sight of Bruce's silken
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head at his side。 He unfastened the message； read it； frowned and went on
with his report。
Bruce continued to wag his tail and to look up wistfully for the wonted
petting and word of commendation。 But the colonel had forgotten his
existence。 So presently the collie wearied of waiting for a caress from a
man whose caresses； at best； he did not greatly value。 He turned and
strolled out of the shed。 His message delivered； he knew he was at liberty
to amuse himself as he might choose to； until such time as he must carry
back to his general a reply to the dispatch he had brought。
From outside came the voices of tired and lounging soldiers。 A
traveling kitchen had just been set up near by。 From it arose a blend of
smells that were mighty tempting to a healthily hungry dog。 Thither； at a
decorous but expectant pace； Bruce bent his steps。
Top…Sergeant Mahan was gazing with solicitous interest upon the toil
of the cooks at the wheeled kitchen。 Beside him； sharing his concern in the
supper preparations； was Mahan's closest crony； old Sergeant Vivier。 The
wizened little Frenchman； as a boy； had been in the surrender of Sedan。
Nightly； ever since； he had besought the saints to give him； some day； a
tiny share in the avenging of that black disgrace。
Mahan and Vivier were the warmest of Bruce's many admirers in the
〃Here…We…Comes。〃 Ordinarily a dual whoop of joy from them would have
greeted his advent。 This afternoon they merely chirped abstractedly at him；
and Mahan patted him carelessly on the head before returning to the
inspection of the cooking food。
Since an hour before dawn； both men had been in hot action。 The
command for the 〃Here…We…Comes〃 to turn aside and bivouac for the
night had been a sharp disappointment to them； as well as to every
unwounded man in the regiment。
When a gambler is in the middle of a winning streak； when an athlete
feels he has the race in his own hands； when a business man has all but
closed the deal that means fortune to himat such crises it is maddening to
be halted at the very verge of triumph。 But to soldiers who； after months of
reverses； at last have their hated foe on the run； such a check does odd
things to temper and to nerves。
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In such plight were the men of the 〃Here…We…Comes；〃 on this late
afternoon。 Mahan and Vivier were too seasoned and too sane to give way
to the bursts of temper and the swirls of blasphemy that swayed so many
of their comrades。 Nevertheless they were glum and silent and had no
heart for jolly welcomings；even to so dear a friend as Bruce。
Experience told them that a square meal would work miracles in the
way of calming and bracing them。 Hence； apart from stark hunger； their
interest in the cooking of supper。
Bruce was too much a philosopherand not devoted enough to his
soldier friendsto be hurt at the lack of warmth in the greeting。 With the
air of an epicure； he sniffed at the contents of one of the kitchen's bubbling
kettles。 Then he walked off and curled himself comfortably on a pile of
bedding； there to rest until supper should be ready。
Several times； as he lay there； soldiers passed and repassed。 One or
two of them snapped their fingers at the dog or even stooped； in passing；
to stroke his head。 But on the faces of all of them was unrest and a certain
wolfish eagerness； which precluded playing with pets at such a time。 The
hot zest of the man…hunt was upon them。