earned the scent, and having learned
to detest it, Bruce was not to be deceived.

For all these reasons he had snarled loathingly at the man in white.
For these same reasons he could not readily forget the incident, but
continued every now and then to glance curiously across toward the
church.

Presently,--not relishing the rebukes of the friends who had heretofore
pestered him by overmuch petting,--the collie arose quietly from his
couch of trampled earth at the foot of the stone bench and strolled
back across the street. Most of the men were too busy, talking, to note
Bruce's departure. But Sergeant Mahan caught sight of him just as the
dog was mounting the last of the steps leading into the church.

As a rule, when Bruce went investigating, he walked carelessly and with
his tail slightly a-wag. Now his tail was stiff as an icicle, and he
moved warily, on the tips of his toes. His tawny-maned neck was low.
Mahan, understanding dogs, did not like the collie's demeanor.
Remembering that the nurse had entered the church a few minutes
earlier, the Sergeant got to his feet and hastily followed Bruce.

The dog, meanwhile, had passed through the crazily splintered doorway
and had paused on the threshold of the improvised hospital, as the reek
of iodoform and of carbolic smote upon his sensitive nostrils. In front
of him was the stone-paved vestibule. Beyond was the interior of the
shattered church, lined now with double rows of cots.

Seated on a camp-chair in the shadowy vestibule was the pseudo Red
Cross nurse. At sight of the collie the nurse got up in some haste.
Bruce, still walking stiff-legged, drew closer.

Out from under the white skirt flashed a capable and solidly-shod foot.
In a swinging kick, the foot let drive at the oncoming dog. Before
Bruce could dodge or could so much as guess what was coming,--the kick
smote him with agonizing force, square on the shoulder.

To a spirited collie, a kick carries more than the mere pain of its
inflicting. It is a grossly unforgivable affront as well--as many a
tramp and thief have learned, at high cost.

By the time the kick had fairly landed, Bruce had recovered from his
instant of incredulous surprise; and with lightning swiftness he hurled
himself at his assailant.

No bark or growl heralded the murderous throatlunge. It was all the
more terrible for the noiselessness wherewith it was delivered. The
masquerading man saw it coming, just too late to guard against