otch general?" asked the recruit, as Vivier nodded cordial
affirmation of Mahan's words, and as others of the old-timers muttered
approval.

"No," contradicted Mahan. "A Scotch collie. If you were dry behind the
ears, in this life, you wouldn't have to ask who Bruce is."

"I don't understand," faltered the rookie, suspicious of a possible
joke.

"You will soon," Mahan told him. "Bruce will be here to-day. I heard
the K.O. saying the big dog is going to be sent down with some
dispatches or something, from headquarters. It's his first trip since
he was cut up so."

"I am saving him--this!" proclaimed Vivier, disgorging from the flotsam
of his pocket a lump of once-white sugar. "My wife, she smuggle three
of these to me in her last paquet. One I eat in my cafe noir; one I
present to mon cher vieux, ce bon Mahan; one I keep for the grand dog
what save us all that day."

"What's the idea?" queried the mystified rookie. "I don't--"

"We were stuck in the front line of the Rache salient," explained
Mahan, eager to recount his dog-friend's prowess. "On both sides our
supports got word to fall back. We couldn't get the word, because our
telephone connection was knocked galley-west. There we were, waiting
for a Hun attack to wipe us out. We couldn't fall back, for they were
peppering the hillslope behind us. We were at the bottom. They'd have
cut us to ribbons if we'd shown our carcasses in the open. Bruce was
here, with a message he'd brought. The K.O. sent him back to
headquarters for the reserves. The boche heavies and snipers and
machine-guns all cut loose to stop him as he scooted up the hill. And a
measly giant of a German police dog tried to kill him, too. Bruce got
through the lot of them; and he reached headquarters with the SOS call
that saved us. The poor chap was cut and gouged and torn by bullets and
shell-scraps, and he was nearly dead from shell-shock, too. But the
surgeon general worked over him, himself, and pulled him back to life.
He--"

"He is a loved pet of a man and a woman in your America, I have heard
one say," chimed in Vivier. "And his home, there, was in the quiet
country. He was lent to the cause, as a patriotic offering, ce brave!
And of a certainty, he has earned his welcome."

When Bruce, an hour later, trotted into the trenches, on the way to the
"Here-We-Come" colonel's quarters, he was received like a visiting
potentate. Dozens of men hailed him eagerly by name as he made his way
to hi