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And as

many eyes

from the

German

lines saw

the huge

collie's

dash up

the

coverless

slope.

Scarce had

Bruce

gotten

fairly

into his

stride

when the

boche

bullets

began to

sing--not

a

desultory

little

flurry of

shots, as

before;

but by the

score, and

with a

murderous

earnestness.

When he

had

appeared,

on his way

to the

trenches,

an hour

earlier,

the

Germans

had opened

fire on

him,

merely for

their own

amusement--upon

the same