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surface of the earth。 And those 〃eyes〃 had discerned the massing
of a force behind the German line had discerned and had duly
reported it。
The attack might come in a day。 It might not come in a week。 But
it was comingunless the behind…the…lines preparations were a
gigantic feint。
A quiet dawn； in the quiet trenches of the quiet sector。
Desultory artillery and somewhat less desultory sniping had
prevailed throughout the night； and at daybreak； but nothing out
of the ordinary。
Two men on listening…post had been shot； and so had an
overcurious sentry who peeped just an inch too far above a
parapet。 A shell had burst in a trench； knocking the telephone
connection out of gear and half burying a squad of sleepers under
a lot of earth。 Otherwise； things were drowsily dull。
In a dugout sprawled Top…Sergeant Mahan；formerly of Uncle Sam's
regular army； playing an uninspiring game of poker with Sergeant
Dale of his company and Sergeant Vivier of the French infantry。
The Frenchman was slow in learning poker's mysteries。
And； anyway； all three men were temporarily penniless and were
forced to play for I。O。U'swhich is stupid sport； at best。
So when； from the German line； came a quick sputt…sputt…sputt
from a half…dozen sharpshooters' rifles； all three men looked up
from their desultory game in real interest。 Mahan got to his feet
with a grunt。
〃Some other fool has been trying to see how far he can rubber
above the sandbags without drawing boche fire；〃 he hazarded；
starting out to investigate。 〃It's a miracle to me how a boche
bullet can go through heads that are so full of first…quality
ivory as those rubberers'。〃
But Mahan's strictures were quite unwarranted。 The sharpshooters
were not firing at the parapet。 Their scattering shots were
flying high； and hitting against the slope of the hill behind the
trenches。
Adown this shellpocked hillside； as Mahan and the other
disturbed idlers gazed； came cantering a huge dark…brown…and…
white collie。 The morning wind stirred the black stippling that
edged his tawny fur； showing the gold…gray undercoat beneath it。
His white chest was like a snowdrift； and offered a fine mark for
the German rifles。 A bullet or two sang whiningly past his gayly
up…flung head。
A hundred voices from the Here…We…Come trenches hailed the
advancing dog。
〃Why； it's Bruce！〃 cried Mahan in glad welcome。 〃I might 'a'
known he or another of the collies would be along。 I might 'a'
known it； when the telephones went out of commission。 He〃
〃Regardez…donc！〃 interrupted the admiring Vivier。 〃He acts like
bullets was made of flies！ Mooch he care for boche lead…pills； ce
brave vieux！〃
〃Yes；〃 growled Dale worriedly； 〃and one of these days a bullet
will find its way into that splendid carcass of his。 He's been
shot at； a thousand times； to my own knowledge。 And all I ask is
a chance； with a rifle…butt； at the skull of the Hun who downs
him！〃
〃Downs Bruce？〃 queried Vivier in fine scorn。 〃The boche he is no
borned who can do it。 Bruce has what you call it； in Ainglish；
the 'charm life。' He go safe； where other caniche be pepper…
potted full of holes。 I've watch heem。 I know。〃
Unscathed by the several shots that whined past him； Bruce came
to a halt at the edge of a traverse。 There he stood； wagging his
plume of a tail in grave friendliness； while a score of khaki…
clad arms reached up to lift him bodily into the trench。
A sergeant unfastened the message from the dog's collar and
posted off to the colonel with it。
The message was similar to one which had been telephoned to each
of the supporting bodies； to right and to left of the Here…We…
Comes。 It bade the colonel prepare to withdraw his command from
the front trenches at nightfall； and to move back on the main
force behind the hill…crest。 The front trenches were not
important； and they were far too lightly manned to resist a mass
attack。 Wherefore the drawing…in and consolidating of the whole
outflung line。
Bruce； his work done now； had leisure to respond to the countless
offers of hospitality that encompassed him。 One man brought him a
slice of cold broiled bacon。 Another spread pork…grease over a
bit of bread and proffered it。 A third unearthed from some
sacredly guarded hiding…place an excessively stale half…inch
square of sweet chocolate。
Had the dog so chosen； he might then and there have eaten himself
to death on the multitude of votive offerings。 But in a few
minutes he had had enough； and he merely sniffed in polite
refusal at all further gifts。
〃See？〃 lectured Mahan。 〃That's the beast of it！ When you say a
fellow eats or drinks 'like a beast；' you ought to remember that
a beast won't eat or drink a mouthful more than is good for him。〃
〃Gee！〃 commented the somewhat corpulent Dale。 〃I'm glad I'm not a
beastespecially on pay…day。〃
Presently Bruce tired of the ovation tendered him。 These ovations
were getting to be an old story。 They had begun as far back as
his training…camp dayswhen the story of his joining the army
was told by the man to whom The Place's guest had written
commending the dog to the trainers' kindness。
At the training…camp this story had been reenforced by the chief
collie…teachera dour little Hieland Scot named McQuibigaskie；
who on the first day declared that the American dog had more
sense and more promise and more soul 〃than a' t'other tykes south
o' Kirkcudbright Brae。〃
Being only mortal； Bruce found it pleasanter to be admired and
petted than ignored or kicked。 He was impersonally friendly with
the soldiers； when he was off duty； and he relished the dainties
they were forever thrusting at him。
But at times his soft eyes would grow dark with homesickness for
the quiet loveliness of The Place and for the Mistress and the
Master who were his loyally worshiped gods。 Life had been so
happy and so sweetly uneventful for him； at The Place！ And there
had been none of the awful endless thunder and the bewilderingly
horrible smells and gruesome sights which here met him at every
turn。
The dog's loving heart used to grow sick with it all； and he
longed unspeakably for home。 But he was a gallant soldier； and he
did his work not only well； but with a snap and a dash and an
almost uncanny intelligence which made him an idol to the men。
Presently； now； having eaten all he wanted and having been patted
and talked to until he craved solitude； Bruce strolled ever to an
empty dugout； curled up on a torn blanket there； put his nose
between his white paws and went to sleep。
The German artillery…fire had swelled from an occasional
explosion to a ceaseless roar； that made the ground vibrate and
heave； and that beat on the eardrums with nauseating iterance。
But it did not bother Bruce。 For months he had been used to this
sort of annoyance； and he had learned to sleep snugly through it
all。
Meanwhile； outside his