er and I coaxed him into the carriage, drove home swiftly,
undressed him and put him to bed, where he waked next morning with
a sore headache, very much ashamed. When his uniform was cleaned and
dried, and he had been shaved and washed and made neat, I drove him back
to barracks with his arm in a fine white sling, and reported that I
had accidentally run over him. I did not tell this story to my
friend's sergeant, who was a hostile and unbelieving person, but to his
lieutenant, who did not know us quite so well.

Three days later my friend came to call, and at his heels slobbered and
fawned one of the finest bull-terriers--of the old-fashioned breed, two
parts bull and one terrier--that I had ever set eyes on. He was pure
white, with a fawn-coloured saddle just behind his neck, and a fawn
diamond at the root of his thin whippy tail. I had admired him distantly
for more than a year; and Vixen, my own fox-terrier, knew him too, but
did not approve.

"'E's for you," said my friend; but he did not look as though he liked
parting with him.

"Nonsense! That dog's worth more than most men, Stanley," I said.

"'E's that and more. 'Tention!"

The dog rose on his hind legs, and stood upright for a full minute.

"Eyes right!"

He sat on his haunches and turned his head sharp to the right. At a sign
he rose and barked thrice. Then he shook hands with his right paw and
bounded lightly to my shoulder. Here he made himself into a necktie,
limp and lifeless, hanging down on either side of my neck. I was told to
pick him up and throw him in the air. He fell with a howl, and held up
one leg.

"Part o' the trick," said his owner. "You're going to die now. Dig
yourself your little grave an' shut your little eye."

Still limping, the dog hobbled to the garden-edge, dug a hole and lay
down in it. When told that he was cured, he jumped out, wagging his
tail, and whining for applause. He was put through half-a-dozen other
tricks, such as showing how he would hold a man safe (I was that man,
and he sat down before me, his teeth bared, ready to spring), and how
he would stop eating at the word of command. I had no more than finished
praising him when my friend made a gesture that stopped the dog as
though he had been shot, took a piece of blue-ruled canteen-paper from
his helmet, handed it to me and ran away, while the dog looked after him
and howled. I read:

SIR--I give you the dog because of what you got me out of. He is the
best