eaten, in Saxony alone, in 1913,
the year BEFORE the war began.) Or else to be captured and then cut up
by some German vivisector-surgeon in the sacred interests of Science!
Oh, we can bring ourselves to send Bruce over there! But don't expect
us to do it with a good grace. For we can't."

"I--" began the embarrassed guest; but the Mistress chimed in, her
sweet voice not quite steady.

"You see, Captain, we've made such a pet--such a baby--of Bruce! All
his life he has lived here--here where he had the woods to wander in
and the lake to swim in, and this house for his home. He will be so
unhappy and--Well, don't let's talk about that! When I think of the
people who give their sons and everything they have, to the country, I
feel ashamed of not being more willing to let a mere dog go. But then
Bruce is not just a 'mere dog.' He is--he is BRUCE. All I ask is that
if he is injured and not killed, you'll arrange to have him sent back
here to us. We'll pay for it, of course. And will you write to whomever
you happen to know, at that dog-training school in England, and ask
that Bruce be treated nicely while he is training there? He's never
been whipped. He's never needed it, you see."

The Mistress might have spared herself much worry as to Bruce's
treatment in the training school to which he was consigned. It was not
a place of cruelty, but of development. And when, out of the thousands
of dogs sent there, the corps of trainers found one with promise of
strong ability, such a pupil was handled with all the care and
gentleness and skill that a temperamental prima donna might expect.

Such a dog was the big American collie, debarked from a goods car at
the training camp railway station, six weeks after the Mistress and the
Master had consented to his enlistment. And the handlers treated him
accordingly.

The Master himself had taken Bruce to the transport, in Brooklyn, and
had led him aboard the overfull ship. The new sights and sounds around
him interested the home-bred collie. But when the Master turned him
over to the officer in whose charge he was to be for the voyage,
Bruce's deep-set eyes clouded with a sudden heartsick foreboding.

Wrenching himself free from the friendly hand on his collar, he sprang
in pursuit of his departing deity,--the loved Master who was leaving
him alone and desolate among all these strange scenes and noises. The
Master, plodding, sullen and heavy-hearted, toward the gangway, was
aware