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
