range it all right."

"We certainly would appreciate it," continued Chester, "and, if the
time ever comes when we may be of service to you, you may command
us." The officer smiled.

"I doubt if you will ever have the opportunity," he said. "Present
circumstances would indicate that there is little likelihood of it."

"Well, you never can tell," said Hal, "the fortunes of war, you know."

"True," said the German, "and, if ever occasion arises, I shall take
you at your word."

He bowed and left the tent. Hal and Chester now turned their attention
to the dog, which still lay sleeping. Chester whistled sharply. The
dog was on his feet in a second, ears cocked and sniffing the air
eagerly.

"A real war dog, all right," said Chester. "What shall we call him,
Hal?"

"Perhaps he has a name already," said Hal. "Try him."

Chester called off the many dog names familiar to him, and Hal added a
few. But, although the animal wagged his tail with evident pleasure at
thus being talked to, he gave no evidence of owning any of the names
in the boys' vocabulary.

Hal approached and laid his hand on the dog's head. Then, for the
first time, he noticed the collar he wore.

"Hello!" he said, in some surprise.

"What is it?" said Chester, also approaching.

"Collar," said Hal briefly. "Perhaps his name is on it."

Both boys bent over the dog.

"Here it is, sure enough," cried Chester.

"Can you make it out?" asked Hal.

"It's a little dark," replied the lad. "Bring him over here nearer the
light."

This was done, and once more Chester bent over the collar.

"Well?" demanded Hal.

"Yes, I can read it," replied Chester.

"What is it?" demanded Hal.

Chester read aloud:

"Marquis--Twenty-third French Infantry."

"A dispatch dog, eh?" said Hal.

"Yes," said Chester; "and, if I mistake not, a very valuable addition
to our party."

CHAPTER XXXI.

BERLIN ONCE MORE.

By dint of persuasion the German officer succeeded in gaining the
consent of General Von Kluck to allow the boys to take the dog with
them. That Marquis was just as pleased to go as the boys were to have
him, was plainly evident. When they left their tent for the last time,
and whistled to him to follow, he bounded after them with enthusiasm.

The train on which the boys were to be taken back to Berlin did not
leave until well along toward midnight, but, with some 5,000 other
prisoners, British, French and Belgians alike, they were bundled