Women, for one thing, do not usually smoke dozens of rank cigars
daily for years, until their flesh is permeated with the smell of
tobacco. A human could not have detected such a smell--such a
MAN-smell,--on the person who had chirped to Bruce. Any dog,
twenty feet away, would have noticed it, and would have tabulated
the white-clad masquerader as a man. Nor do a woman's hair and
skin carry the faint but unmistakable odor of barracks and of
tent-life and of martial equipment, as did this man's. The
masquerader was evidently not only a man but a soldier.

Dogs,--high-strung dogs,--do not like to have tricks played on
them; least of all by strangers. Bruce seemed to take the
nurse-disguise as a personal affront to himself. Then, too, the
man was not of his own army. On the contrary, the scent
proclaimed him one of the horde whom Bruce's friends so
manifestly hated--one of the breed that had more than once fired
on the dog.

Diet and equipment and other causes give a German soldier a
markedly different scent, to dogs' miraculously keen nostrils,--
and to those of certain humans,--from the French or British or
American troops. War records prove this. Once having learned 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.