hillside in swathes, beginning a few yards behind the flying
collie and moving upward toward him like a sweeping of an unseen
scythe.

"That's the wind-up!" groaned Mahan. "Lord, send me an even break
against one of those Hun machinegunners some day! If--"

Again Mahan failed to finish his train of thought. He stared
open-mouthed up the hill. Almost at the very summit, within a rod
or two of the point where the crest would intervene between him
and his foes, Bruce whirled in mid-air and fell prone.

The fast-following swaths of machine-gun bullets had not reached
him. But another German enemy had. From behind a heap of offal,
on the crest, a yellow-gray dog had sprung, and had launched
himself bodily upon Bruce's flank as the unnoticing collie had
flashed past him.

The assailant was an enormous and hyena-like German police-dog.
He was one of the many of his breed that were employed (for work
or food) in the German camps, and which used to sneak away from
their hard-kicking soldier-owners to ply a more congenial trade
as scavengers, and as seekers for the dead. For, in traits as
well as in looks, the police-dog often emulates the ghoulish
hyena.

Seeing the approaching collie (always inveterate foe of his
kind), the police-dog had gauged the distance and had launched
his surprise attack with true Teuton sportsmanship and
efficiency. Down went Bruce under the fierce weight that crashed