Bruce

irst plan of taking a night train to New York. He was a captain in our regular army and had newly come

nda after dinner, watching the flood of sunset change the lake to molten gold and the sky to pink fire. It would be pleasant to steal anot

morning," said the Master. "I'll send

penciled line on an envel

eye and with a head that somehow reminded one of a Landseer engraving. The collie trotted up the steps of the veranda and stood exp

o Roberts,

rned and set off

to be in any doubt as to what you wanted him

carry messages. All we do is to slip the paper into his collar-ring and tell him the name of the person to take it to. Naturally, he knows us all by name. So it is

are a decidedly important feature of trench-warfare. I stopped at one of the dog-training schools in England, too, on my way back from Picardy, and watched the teaching of the do

erything of him. He was such a stupid and awkward puppy, too! Then, i

velope was still in the ring on his collar. The guest glanced furtively

hat had been written beneath his own scrawl; then he made another penciled additi

ber

Bruce on his

ng," explained the Master. "So Roberts wrote, asking what time he wa

ith no paper in his collar-ring,-the officer passed his hand appraisingl

est. "Or perhaps he's n

e, because we've made it a bird refuge. But Bruce went with us in the car to the testing of the Lewis machine

r-almost as many as the Airedales and the police dogs. And they are doing grand work. But I never saw one that was better fitted for it than Bruce. It's a pity he lives on the wr

. The Master's forehead, too, was creased with a new thought that seemed to h

oing such great work as the papers

s can't be used for sending messages from one point to another, and where there is no telephone connection, and where the firing is too hot for a human courier to get through. That is where is the war dogs have p

h a message. (That was during the Somme drive of 1916.) He was shot at, a dozen times, as he ran. At last two bullets got him. He fell over, mortally wounded. He scrambled to his feet and kept on falling, stumbling, staggering-till he got to his destination. Then he dropped dead at the side of the Colon

ch heed to his final words. For the Master and the Mistress were looking at each other in mute unhappiness. The s

lovingly beside her. Then, still stroking the collie's silken head, she returned her husband's wretchedly questioning glance with a resigned little nod. T

heart and several other defects that a soldier isn't supposed to have. My wife and I have tried to do what little we can for the Cause

hroat and went on with

iving at for the past five minute

e guest. "That's fine

where a German bullet or a shell-fragment or hunger or disease is certain to get him, soon or late. To think of him lying smashed and helpless, somewhere in No Man's Land, waiting for death; or caught by the enemy and eaten! (The Red Cross bulletin says no less than eight thousand dogs we

t; but the Mistress chimed in,

he people who give their sons and everything they have, to the country, I feel ashamed of not being more willing to let a mere dog go. But then Bruce is not just a 'mere dog.' He is-he is BRUCE. All I ask is that if he is injured and not killed, you'll arrange to hav

a place of cruelty, but of development. And when, out of the thousands of dogs sent there, the corps of trainers found one with promi

raining camp railway station, six weeks after the Mistress and the Master

ew sights and sounds around him interested the home-bred collie. But when the Master turned him over to the offic

loved Master who was leaving him alone and desolate among all these strange scenes and noises. The Master, p

ed gaze. The Master swallowed hard; then laid his hand on the beautiful head pressed so c

at you'll come back to us. I'm-I'm not deserting you. And I guess there's precious little danger that any one on The Place will ever

ther effort to break away and to follow his god ashore. But he shivered convulsively from head to foot; and his desolate gaze continued to trace the Master's receding figure out of

s of a voyage in a rolling ship, through heaving seas. Afterward, came the landing at a Bri

had beheld in all his brief life put together. But his hearing would have

barking which betokens the presence of many ca

f them-were destined for work at the front. The bark of a dog has a carrying quality greater than the combined shoutin

ed off, might well lead to the bombing of hitherto unlocated trenches or detachment-camps. For thi

as to bear Red Cross supplies and to hunt for the wounded. The gaunt and wolflike police dogs were pressed into the two latter tasks, and were taught listening-post duty. And so on through all available breeds,-

For Britain's best dog men had been recruited for service here. On the perfection of their charges'

asily confused in moments of stress. These were weeded out, cont

ould few human soldiers. And Bruce, lonely and heartsore, yet throwing himself int

nd the Master, was now his life-work. Steadily his trainer wrought over him, bringing out latent abilities that would have dumfoun

the dullness of their average pupils. He learned with

erewski as would Bruce's glum Scottish trainer have laid whip to this best pupil of his. Life was bare and strict for Bruce. But

delighted to worship, there. And the look of sadness in his dark eyes became a settled aspect. Yet, here, t

o France. There his seemingly aimless studie

re-We-Come" Regiment, of mixed American and French

Cornwall. On the left were two French regiments. In front, facing the hill-slope and not a half-mile dis

omes were helping to defend what was known as a "quiet" sector. Behind the hill, and on loftier heights far to th

surroundings of the Here-We-Comes. For, with no warning a

essive points of the Allied line, in an effort to find some spot that was soft enough to cave in under the impact and let throug

lanes which drifted in the upper heavens like a scattered handful of dragon-flies were not drifting there aimlessly. They were the eyes of the snakelike columns that crawle

me in a week. But it was coming-unless the behi

artillery and somewhat less desultory sniping had prevailed throu

too far above a parapet. A shell had burst in a trench, knocking the telephone connection out of g

ying an uninspiring game of poker with Sergeant Dale of his company and Sergeant V

ily penniless and were forced to play fo

half-dozen sharpshooters' rifles, all three men looked up from thei

awing boche fire," he hazarded, starting out to investigate. "It's a miracle to me how a bo

ere not firing at the parapet. Their scattering shots were flying

. The morning wind stirred the black stippling that edged his tawny fur, showing the gold-gray undercoat beneath it. His white che

e Here-We-Come trenches

known he or another of the collies would be along. I might

r. "He acts like bullets was made of flies! Moo

that splendid carcass of his. He's been shot at, a thousand times, to my own knowledge

n do it. Bruce has what you call it, in Ainglish, the 'charm life.' He go safe

dge of a traverse. There he stood, wagging his plume of a tail in grave friendline

ge from the dog's collar and po

el 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 w

man brought him a slice of cold broiled bacon. Another spread pork-grease over a bit of bread and proffered it.

ath on the multitude of votive offerings. But in a few minutes he had h

ellow eats or drinks 'like a beast,' you ought to remember that

orpulent Dale. "I'm glad I'm no

They had begun as far back as his training-camp days-when the story of his joining the army was t

e Hieland Scot named McQuibigaskie, who on the first day declared that the American dog had

gnored or kicked. He was impersonally friendly with the soldiers, when he wa

aster who were his loyally worshiped gods. Life had been so happy and so sweetly uneventful for him, at The Place! And there had

home. But he was a gallant soldier, and he did his work not only well, but with a

o until he craved solitude, Bruce strolled ever to an empty dugout, curled up

nd vibrate and heave, and that beat on the eardrums with nauseating iterance. But it did not bother Bruce.

s trenches a haze had begun to crawl along the ground and to send snaky tendrils high in air-tendrils that blended into a single grayish-green wall as they moved forward. The hazewall'

ution. By one of the sudden wind-freaks so common in the story of the war, the gas-cloud was cleft in t

honic word came to the detachments to left and right of the Here-We-Comes, to fall back, under cover of the gas-cloud, to safer posi

not know it), to hold the position,-with no support on either side,

ive waves, according to custom, the boches charged. Each wave hurled itself forward as fast as efficiency would let it, in face of the opp

it was swelled by the survivors of all four of its predecessors

vancing gray swarms, stopping wave after wave, and at last checking the fif

here. If they'd had ten thousand men, in that rush, instead of five thousand, they'd have got us. And if they had twice as many men in their whole army as

his staff were not rejoicing. They had just learned of the withdrawal of the forces to either side

he supports. It was now only a question of an hour or less before a charge with a double-enveloping m

etreat. They could not hope to hold their ground. The sole chance for life lay in the arrival of strong reenforcements from the rear, to help them hold the trenches until nig

presence in the front trench. It was a matter of thirty seconds for the colonel to scrawl an urgent appeal and a brief statement o

lonel himself went to the edge of the traverse, and wit

ifting arms. As he set Bruce down on the brink, t

here wouldn't be one chance in a hundred, for a MAN. The boches will be on the lookout for just this move. And their best s

, he rasped o

arters! Headqu

d, the do

e set off at a sweeping run, his taw

ched his flight. And as many eyes from the German li

erous earnestness. When he had appeared, on his way to the trenches, an hour earlier, the Germans had opened fire on him, merely for their own amusement-upon the same m

not regret the sending of the collie. It had been a move of stark military necess

e marksmen to down so magnificent a creature. The bullets were spraying all about the gallop

tle faith. For under such a fusillade it seemed impossible that at least one highpower bullet should not reach the collie before the slope could be traversed. A fast-running dog is not an easy mark for

Often he had to encircle such holes. More than once he bounded headlong down into a gaping crater and scrambled up its far side. These erratic m

cleared more than three-fourths of the slope. The top-

e, next pay-day!" he vowed. "He was dead right abo

an explosive oath, as a new note in th

nsportsmanly, dog-eating Prussian swin

fire guns. The bullets hit the upper hillside in swathes, beginning a few yards behin

rd, send me an even break against one of

hill. Almost at the very summit, within a rod or two of the point where the crest

nemy had. From behind a heap of offal, on the crest, a yellow-gray dog had sprung, and had

or food) in the German camps, and which used to sneak away from their hard-kicking soldier-owners to ply a more congenial trade

ent Bruce under the fierce weight that crashed against his shoulder. But before the other could gain his coveted throat-grip, Bruce was up again. Like a furry whirlwind he was at the police-dog, f

rom his life-and-death mission. He could not elude th

potshot at that Prussian cur, before the machine-guns get the two of 'em. Even if

te the ground, apparently between them. Up went a geyser of smoke and dirt and rocks. When the cloud settled, t

it!" muttere

puny defense as his men might hop

ehind the hill, shielding the Here-We-Come trenches with a curtain of fire whose lower folds draped themselves

d the astonished colonel of the

eplied the general he had ques

led the colon

ad two machine-gun bullets in his shoulder. He's deaf as a post, too, from shell-shock. He tumbled over in a heap on the steps of headquarters. But he GOT there. That's Bruce, all over. That's the best type of collie, all over. Some of us were for putting him out of hi