Mahan　talked　jubilantly。　The　same　jubilation　ran　all　along　the
  line　of　victors。　But　the　colonel　and　his　staff　were　not
  rejoicing。　They　had　just　learned　of　the　withdrawal　of　the　forces
  to　either　side　of　them；　and　they　knew　they　themselves　could　not
  hope　to　stand　against　a　second　and　larger　charge。
  Such　a　charge　the　enemy　were　certain　to　make。　The　Germans；　too；
  must　soon　learn　of　the　defection　of　the　supports。　It　was　now　only
  a　question　of　an　hour　or　less　before　a　charge　with　a　double…
  enveloping　movement　would　surround　and　bag　the　Here…We…Comes；
  catching　the　whole　regiment　in　an　inescapable　trap。
  To　fall　back；　now；　up　that　long　bare　hillside；　under　full　fire　of
  the　augmented　German　artillery；　would　mean　a　decimating　of　the
  entire　command。　The　Here…We…Comes　could　not　retreat。　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　night；　or　to　man　the　supporting
  positions。　Reserves　were　within　easy　striking　distance。　But；　as
  happened　so　many　times　in　the　war；　there　was　no　routine　way　to
  summon　them　in　time。
  It　was　the　chance　sight　of　a　crumpled　message　lying　on　his
  dugout…table　that　reminded　the　colonel　of　Bruce's　existence　and
  of　his　presence　in　the　front　trench。　It　was　a　matter　of　thirty
  seconds　for　the　colonel　to　scrawl　an　urgent　appeal　and　a　brief
  statement　of　conditions。　Almost　as　soon　as　the　note　was　ready；　an
  orderly　appeared　at　the　dugout　entrance；　convoying　the　newly
  awakened　Bruce。
  The　all…important　message　was　fastened　in　place。　The　colonel
  himself　went　to　the　edge　of　the　traverse；　and　with　his　own　arms
  lifted　the　eighty…pound　collie　to　the　top。
  There　was　tenderness　as　well　as　strength　in　the　lifting　arms。　As
  he　set　Bruce　down　on　the　brink；　the　colonel　said；　as　if　speaking
  to　a　fellow…human：
  〃I　hate　to　do　it；　old　chap。　I　HATE　to！　There　isn't　one　chance　in
  three　of　your　getting　all　the　way　up　the　hill　alive。　But　there
  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
  sharpshooters　will　be　waiting　for　youeven　if　you　dodge　the
  shrapnel　and　the　rest　of　the　artillery。　I'm　sorry！　Andgood…by。〃
  Then；　tersely；　he　rasped　out　the　command
  〃Bruce！　Headquarters！　Headquarters！　QUICK！〃
  At　a　bound；　the　dog　was　gone。
  Breasting　the　rise　of　the　hill；　Bruce　set　off　at　a　sweeping　run；
  his　tawny…and…white　mane　flying　in　the　wind。
  A　thousand　eyes；　from　the　Here…We…Come　trenches；　watched　his
  flight。　And　as　many　eyes　from　the　German　lines　saw　the　huge
  collie's　dash　up　the　coverless　slope。
  Scarce　had　Bruce　gotten　fairly　into　his　stride　when　the　boche
  bullets　began　to　singnot　a　desultory　little　flurry　of　shots；　as
  before；　but　by　the　score；　and　with　a　murderous　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　merry　principle　which　always　led　them　to　shoot　at
  an　Ally　war…dog。　But　now　they　understood　his　all…important
  mission；　and　they　strove　with　their　best　skill　to　thwart　it。
  The　colonel　of　the　Here…We…Comes　drew　his　breath　sharply　between
  his　teeth。　He　did　not　regret　the　sending　of　the　collie。　It　had
  been　a　move　of　stark　military　necessity。　And　there　was　an　off
  chance　that　it　might　mean　the　saving　of　his　whole　command。
  But　the　colonel　was　fond　of　Bruce；　and　it　angered　him　to　hear　the
  frantic　effort　of　the　boche　marksmen　to　down　so　magnificent　a
  creature。　The　bullets　were　spraying　all　about　the　galloping　dog；
  kicking　up　tiny　swirls　of　dust　at　his　heels　and　in　front　of　him
  and　to　either　side。
  Mahan；　watching；　with　streaming　eyes　and　blaspheming　lips；
  recalled　the　French　sergeant's　theory　that　Bruce　bore　a　charmed
  life。　And　he　prayed　that　Vivier　might　be　right。　But　in　his　prayer
  was　very　little　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　a　bulletespecially　if　the　dog　be　a
  collie；　with　a　trace　of　wolfancestry　in　his　gait。　A　dog；　at
  best；　does　not　gallop　straight　ahead　as　does　a　horse。　There　is
  almost　always　a　sidewise　lilt　to　his　run。
  Bruce　was　still　further　aided　by　the　shell…plowed　condition　of
  the　hillside。　Again　and　again　he　had　to　break　his　stride；　to　leap
  some　shell…hole。　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　moves；　and　the　nine…hundred…yard
  distance　（a　distance　that　was　widening　at　every　second）　made　the
  sharpshooters'　task　anything　but　an　exact　science。
  Mahan's　gaze　followed　the　dog's　every　step。　Bruce　had　cleared
  more　than　three…fourths　of　the　slope。　The　top…sergeant　permitted
  himself　the　luxury　of　a　broad　grin。
  〃I'll　buy　Vivier　all　the　red…ink　wine　he　can　gargle；　next　pay…
  day！〃　he　vowed。　〃He　was　dead　right　about　the　dog。　No　bullet　was
  ever　molded　that　can　get〃
  Mahan　broke　off　in　his　exultation；　with　an　explosive　oath；　as　a
  new　note　in　the　firing　smote　upon　his　trained　hearing。
  〃The　swine！〃　he　roared。　〃The　filthy；　unsportsmanly；　dog…eating
  Prussian　swine！　They're　turning　MACHINE…GUNS　on　him！〃
  In　place　of　the　intermittent　rattle　of　rifleshots　now　came　the
  purring　cough　of　rapidfire　guns。　The　bullets　hit　the　upper
  hillside　in　swathes；　beginning　a　few　yards　behind　the　flying
  collie　and　moving　upward　toward　him　like　a　sweeping　of　an　unseen
  scythe。
  〃That's　the　wind…up！〃　groaned　Mahan。　〃Lord；　send　me　an　even　break
  against　one　of　those　Hun　machinegunners　some　day！　If〃
  Again　Mahan　failed　to　finish　his　train　of　thought。　He　stared
  open…mouthed　up　the　hill。　Almost　at　the　very　summit；　within　a　rod
  or　two　of　the　point　where　the　crest　would　intervene　between　him
  and　his　foes；　Bruce　whirled　in　mid…air　and　fell　prone。
  The　fast…following　swaths　of　machine…gun　bullets　had　not　reached
  him。　But　another　German　enemy　had。　From　behind　a　heap　of　offal；
  on　the　crest；　a　yellow…gray　dog　had　sprung；　and　had　launched
  himself　bodily　upon　Bruce's　flank　as　the　unnoticing　collie　had
  flashed　past　him。
  The　assailant　was　an　enormous　and　hyena…like　German　police…dog。
  He　was　one　of　the　many　of　his　breed　that　were　employed　（for　work
  or　food）　in　the　German　camps；　and　which　used　to　sneak　away　from
  their　hard…kicking　soldier…owners　to　ply　a　more　congenial　trade
  as　scavengers；　and　as　seekers　for　the　dead。　For；　in　traits　as
  well　as　in　looks；　the　police…dog　often　emulates　the　ghoulish
  hyena。
  Seeing　the　approaching　collie　（always　inveterate　foe　of　his
  kind）；　the　police…dog　had　gauged　the　distance　and　had　launched
  his　surprise　attack　with　true　Teuton　sportsmanship　and
  efficiency。　Down　went　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；　fighting　more　like　a　wolf　than　a　civilized　collie
  tearing　into　his　opponent　with　a　maniac　rage；　snapping；
  slashing；　his　glittering　white　fangs　driving　at　a　dozen
  vulnerable　points　in　a　single　second。
  It　was　as　though　Bruce　knew　he　had　no　time　to　waste　from　his
  life…and…death　mission。　He　could　not　elude　this　enemy；　so　he　must
  finish　him　as　quickly　as　possible。
  〃Give　me　your　rifle！〃　sputtered　Mahan　to　the　soldier　nearest　him。
  〃I'll　take　one　potshot　at　that　Prussian　cur；　before　the　machine…
  guns　get　the　two　of　'em。　Even　if　I　hit　Bruce　by　mistake；　he'd
  rather　die　by　a　Christian　Yankee…made　bullet　than〃
  Just　then　the　scythelike　machine…gun　fire　reached　the　hillcrest
  combatants。　And　in　the　same　instant　a　shell　smote　the　ground；
  apparently　between　them。　Up　went　a　geyser　of　smoke　and　dirt　and
  rocks。　When　the　cloud　settled；　there　was　a　deep　gully　in　the
  ground　where　a　moment　earlier　Bruce　and　the　police…dog　had　waged
  their　death…battle。
  〃That　settles　it！〃　muttered　the　colonel。
  And　he　went　to　make　ready　for　such　puny　defense　as　his　men　might
  hope　to　put　up　against　the　German　rush。
  While　these　futile　preparations　were　still　under　way；　terrific
  artillery　fire　burst　from　the　Allied　batteries　behind　the　hill；
  shielding　the　Here…We…Come　trenches　with　a　curtain　of　fire　whose
  lower　folds　draped　themselves　right　unlovingly　around　the　German
  lines。　Under　cover　of　this　barrage；　down　the　hill　swarmed　the
  Allied　reserves！
  〃How　did　you　get　word？〃　demanded　the　astonished　colonel　of　the
  Here…We…Comes；　later　in　the　day。
  〃From　your　note；　of　course；〃　replied　the　general　he　had
  questioned。　〃The　collieold　Bruce。〃
  〃Bruce？〃　babbled　the　colonel　foolishly。
  〃Of　course；〃　answered　the　general。　〃Who　else？　But　I'm　afraid　it's
  the　last　message　he'll　ever　deliver。　He　came　rolling　and
  staggering　up　to　headquartersone　mass　of　blood；　and　t