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to the dog after his long inaction。
So Bruce got up and followed。 As he came alongside the stiffly
marching top…sergeant； the collie so far subverted discipline as
to thrust his nose； in friendly greeting； into Mahan's slightly
cupped palm。 And the top…sergeant so far abetted the breach of
discipline as to give the collie's head a furtive pat。 The night
was dim； as the moon had not risen； so the mutual contact of
good…fellowship was not visible to the marching men on either
side of Mahan and the dog。 And discipline； therefore； did not
suffer much； after all。
At one post after another； a sentinel was relieved and a fresh
man took his place。 Farthest in front of the 〃Here…We…Comes〃
lines and nearest to the Germanwas posted a lanky Missourian
whom Bruce liked； a man who had a way of discovering in his deep
pockets stray bits of food which he had hoarded there for the
collie and delighted to dole out to him。 The Missourian had a
drawlingly soft voice the dog liked； and he used to talk to Bruce
as if the latter were another human。
For all these reasonsand because Mahan was too busy and too
grumpy to bother with himBruce elected to stay where he was；
for a while； and share the Missourian's vigil。 So； when the rest
of the party moved along to the next sentry…go； the dog remained。
The Missourian was only too glad to have him do so。 It is tedious
and stupid to pace a desolate beat； alone； at dead of night；
after a day of hard fighting。 And the man welcomed the
companionship of the dog。
For a time； as the Missourian paced his solitary stretch of
broken and shrub…grown ground； Bruce gravely paced to and fro at
his side。 But presently this aimless promenade began to wax
uninteresting。 And； as the two came to the far end of the beat；
Bruce yawned and lay down。 It was pleasanter to lie there and to
watch the sentinel do the walking。
Stretched out； in a little grass…hollow； the dog followed
blinkingly with his soft brown eyes the pendulumlike progress of
his friend。 And always the dog's plumed tail would beat rhythmic
welcome against the ground as the sentry approached him。
Thus nearly an hour wore on。 A fat moon butted its lazy way
through the smoke…mists of the eastern skyline。
Then something happenedsomething that Bruce could readily have
forestalled if the wind had been blowing from the other
direction； and if a dog's eyes were not as nearsighted as his
nose is farsmelling。
The Missourian paused to run his hand caressingly over the
collie's rough mane； and moved on； down the lonely beat。 Bruce
watched his receding figure； drowsily。 At the end of ninety yards
or more； the Missourian passed by a bunch of low bushes which
grew at the near side of a stretch of hilly and shellpocked
ground。 He moved past the bushes； still watched by the somewhat
bored dog。
It was then that Bruce saw a patch of bushshadow detach itself
from the rest； under the glow of the rising moon。 The shadow was
humpy and squat。 Noiseless； it glided out from among the bushes；
close at the sentry's heels； and crept after him。
Bruce pricked his ears and started to get up。 His curiosity was
roused。 The direction of the wind prevented him from smelling out
the nature of the mystery。 It also kept his keen hearing from
supplying any clue。 And the distance would not permit him to see
with any distinctness。
Still his curiosity was very mild。 Surely； if danger threatened；
the sentinel would realize it。 For by this time the Shadow was a
bare three feet behind him near enough； by Bruce's system of
logic； for the Missourian to have smelled and heard the pursuer。
So Bruce got up； in the most leisurely fashion； preparatory to
strolling across to investigate。 But at almost his first step he
saw something that changed his gracefully slouching walk into a
charging run。
The Shadow suddenly had merged with the sentinel。 For an instant；
in stark silence； the two seemed to cling together。 Then the
Shadow fled； and the lanky Missourian slumped to the earth in a
sprawling heap； his throat cut。
The slayer had been a deft hand at the job。 No sound had escaped
the Missourian； from the moment the stranglingly tight left arm
had been thrown around his throat from behind until； a second
later； he fell bleeding and lifeless。
In twenty leaping strides； Bruce came up to the slain sentinel
and bent over him。 Dog…instinct told the collie his friend had
been done to death。 And the dog's power of scent told him it was
a German who had done the killing。
For many months； Bruce had been familiar with the scent of German
soldiers； so different from that of the army in which he toiled。
And he had learned to hate it； even as a dog hates the vague
〃crushed cucumber〃 smell of a pitviper。 But while every dog
dreads the viper…smell as much as he loathes it； Bruce had no
fear at all of the boche odor。 Instead； it always awoke in him a
blood…lust； as fierce as any that had burned in his wolf…
ancestors。
This same fury swept him now； as he stood； quivering； above the
body of the kindly man who so lately had petted him； this and a
craving to revenge the murder of his human friend。
For the briefest time； Bruce stood there； his dark eyes abrim
with unhappiness and bewilderment； as he gazed down on the
huddled form in the wet grass。 Then an electric change came over
him。 The softness fled from his eyes； leaving them bloodshot and
blazing。 His great tawny ruff bristled like an angry cat's。 The
lazy gracefulness departed from his mighty body。 It became tense
and terrible。 In the growing moonlight his teeth gleamed whitely
from under his upcurled lip。
In a flash he turned and set off at a loping run； nose close to
ground； his long stride deceptively swift。 The zest of the man…
hunt had obsessed him； as completely as； that day； it had spurred
the advance of the 〃Here…We…Comes。〃
The trail of the slayer was fresh； even over such broken ground。
Fast as the German had fled； Bruce was flying faster。 Despite the
murderer's long start； the dog speedily cut down the distance
between his quarry and himself。 Not trusting to sight； but solely
to his unerring sense of smell。 Bruce sped on。
Then； in a moment or two； his hearing re…enforced his scent。 He
could catch the pad…pad…pad of running feet。 And the increasing
of the sound told him he was gaining fast。
But in another bound his ears told him something elsesomething
he would have heard much sooner； had not the night wind been
setting so strongly in the other direction。 He heard not only the
pounding of his prey's heavy…shod feet； but the soft thud of
hundredsperhaps thousandsof other army shoes。 And now；
despite the adverse wind； the odor of innumerable soldiers came
to his fiercely sniffing nostrils。 Not only was it the scent of
soldiers； but of German soldiers。
For the first time； Bruce lifted his head from the ground； as he
ran； and peered in front of h