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lookout

for just

this move.

And their

best

sharpshooters

will be

waiting

for

you--even

if you

dodge the

shrapnel

and the

rest of

the

artillery.

I'm sorry!

And--good-by."Then,

tersely,

he rasped

out the

command--

"Bruce!

Headquarters!

Headquarters!

QUICK!" At

a bound,

the dog

was gone.

Breasting

the rise

of the

hill,

Bruce set

off at a

sweeping

run, his

tawny-and-white

mane

flying in

the wind.

A thousand

eyes, from

the

Here-We-Come

trenches,

watched

his

flight.