be back. We ought to have had more sense than try to stop him
when he's on duty. He has better discipline than the rest of us.
That's one of very first things they teach a courier-dog--to pay
no attention to anybody, when he's on dispatch duty. When Bruce
has delivered his message to the K.O., he'll have the right to
hunt up his chums. And no one knows it better'n Bruce himself."

"It was a sin--a thoughtlessness--of me to hold the sugar at
him," said old Vivier. "Ah, but he is a so good soldier, ce brave
Bruce! He look not to the left nor yet to the right, nor yet to
the so-desired sugar-lump. He keep his head at attention! All but
the furry tips of his ears. Them he has not yet taught to be good
soldiers. They tremble, when he smell the sugar and the good
soup-bone. They quiver like the little leaf. But he keep on. He--"

There was a scurry of fast-cantering feet. Around the angle of
the trench dashed Bruce. Head erect, soft dark eyes shining with
a light of gay mischief, he galloped up to the grinning Sergeant
Vivier and stood. The dog's great plume of a tail was wagging
violently. His tulip ears were cocked. His whole interest in life
was fixed on the precious lump of sugar which Vivier held out to
him.

From puppyhood, Bruce had adored lump sugar. Even at The Place,
sugar had been a rarity for him, for the Mistress and the Master
had known the damage it can wreak upon a dog's teeth and
digestion. Yet, once in a while, as a special luxury, the
Mistress had been wont to give him a solitary lump of sugar.

Since his arrival in France, the dog had never seen nor scented