"The big dog must have gotten here just a few minutes ago," said
Sergeant Mahan. "He was coming out of headquarters when I saw him. That
must mean he's just struck the town, and with a message for the K.O. He
always goes like greased lightning when he's on dispatch duty, till he
has delivered his message. Then, if he's to be allowed to hang around a
while before he's sent back, he loafs, lazy-like; the way you see him
now. If all the courier-dogs were like him, every human courier would
be out of a job."

At Vivier's hail the great collie had pricked his ears and glanced
inquiringly up and down the street. Catching sight of the group seated
in front of the estaminet, he began to wag his plumy tail and set off
toward them at a trot.

Ten minutes earlier, Bruce had cantered into Meran-en-Laye from the
opposite end of the street, bearing in his collar a dispatch from the
corps commander to the colonel of the "Here-We-Comes." The colonel, at
the mairie, had read the dispatch and had patted its bearer; then had
bidden the dog lie down and rest, if he chose, after his long run.

Instead, Bruce had preferred to stroll out in search of friends.

Top-Sergeant Mahan, by the way, would have felt highly flattered had he
chanced to get a glimpse of the dispatch Bruce had brought to the
colonel. For it bore out Mahan's own theory regarding the presence of
spies at or near the village, and it bade the "Here-We-Come" colonel
use every means for tracing them.

It added the information that three troop-trains with nine engines were
to pass through the village that night on their way to the trenches,
and that the trains were due at the junction at nine o'clock or shortly
thereafter. The mairie was on the other side of the street from the
estaminet. Incidentally, it was on the shady side of the street--for
which reason Bruce,--being wise, and the day being hot,--remained on
that side, until he should come opposite the bench where his friends
awaited him.

His course, thus, brought him directly past the church.

As he trotted by the steps, the Red Cross nurse, who sat sewing there,
chirped timidly at him. Bruce paused in his leisurely progress to see
who had accosted him whether an old acquaintance, to be greeted as
such, or merely a pleasantly inclined stranger.

His soft brown eyes rested first in idle inquiry upon the angular and
white-robed figure on the steps. Then, on the instant, the friendly
inquiring look left his eyes a