r in his leg. A third had
reached his skull.

Now, the complete element of surprise was all-needful for the attack
the Germans had planned against the "Here-We-Comes." Deprived of that
advantage the expedition was doomed to utter failure. For, given a
chance to wake and to rally, the regiment could not possibly be
"rushed," in vivid moonlight, before the nearest Allied forces could
move up to its support. And those forces were only a mile or so to the
rear. There can be no possible hope for a surprise attack upon a
well-appointed camp when the night's stillness has been shattered by a
series of maniac screams and by three echoing rifle-shots.

Already the guard was out. A bugle was blowing. In another minute, the
sentry-calls would locate the gap made by the three murdered sentinels.

A swift guttural conference among the leaders of the gray-clad
marauders was followed by the barking of equally guttural commands. And
the Germans withdrew as quietly and as rapidly as they had come.

* * * * *

It was the mouthing and jabbering of the fit-possessed Corporal Rudolph
Freund that drew to him the notice of a squad of Yankees led by
Top-Sergeant Mahan, ten minutes later. It was the shudder--accompanied
pointing of the delirious man's finger, toward the nearby clump of
undergrowth, that revealed to them the still warm body of Bruce.

Back to camp, carried lovingly in Mahan's strong arms, went all that
was left of the great courier-dog. Back to camp, propelled between two
none-too-gentle soldiers, staggered the fit-ridden Corporal Freund.

At the colonel's quarters, a compelling dose of stimulant cleared some
of the mists from the prisoner's brain. His nerve and his will-power
still gone to smash, he babbled eagerly enough of the night attack, of
the killing of the sentries and of his encounter with the Werewolf.

"I saw him fall!" he raved. "But he is not dead. The Werewolf can be
killed only by a silver bullet, marked with a cross and blessed by a
priest. He will live to track me down! Lock me where he cannot find me,
for the sake of sweet mercy!"

And in this way, the "Here-We-Comes" learned of Bruce's part in the
night's averted disaster.

Old Vivier wept unashamed over the body of the dog he had loved.
Top-Sergeant Mahan--the big tears splashing, unnoted, from his own red
eyes--besought the Frenchman to strive for better self-control and not
to set a cry-baby example to the men.

Then