“I sort of hate to see you go,” the German officer told them, upon informing them of their fate.  “We have gotten along famously together.  However, I am sure you will be well treated in Berlin, and that when you are released at the end of the war you will be able to deny some of the tales of German cruelty to their prisoners.”

“From the treatment we already have received we can deny them now,” said Hal.

“Indeed we can,” Chester agreed.

“Come,” continued the officer, “what do you say to a little walk around?  You will not start on your journey until to-night.”

Accompanied by their guard the boys once more started on an excursion through the huge German camp.  For an hour or more they walked about, discussing the war in its various phases, but finally the officer told them that it was time for him to report for duty, and they started back toward their temporary prison.

As they were walking slowly along a large gray shape came bounding toward them.  Almost in front of them it came to a stop.  It was a dog.

Hal reached forth a hand and patted the animal on the head, and the dog’s tail wagged in friendship.  But when the German officer also stretched forth a hand, he uttered a menacing growl.

“He must be one of your French war dogs,” said the German with a laugh, quickly withdrawing his hand.  “We have captured a large number of them, and, in spite of the fact that we treat them as well as we know how, they will have nothing to do with us.”

At that moment another German officer approached the trio, and, as he came closer, the dog snarled and showed his teeth.  The German drew back his foot, and, before anyone could interfere, kicked the animal sharply in the ribs.

But the German paid dearly for this act, for, with one quick bound, the dog leaped upon his assailant, and, snarling fiercely, bore him to the ground.  Hal, Chester and their officer friend jumped quickly forward, and, after a sharp tussle, succeeded in dragging the dog off, though not until he had considerably shaken up his victim, even drawing blood from a wound in his throat.

With a fierce imprecation, the German reached for his revolver, drew it quickly, and aimed it at the dog.  But, before he could pull the trigger, Chester leaped forward, and, with a quick movement of his arm, knocked the weapon from the German’s hand.

The German turned angrily on the lad.

“What do you mean by that?” he demanded, in a rage.

“You won’t shoot him while I am here,” cried Chester, also aroused.

“What business is it of yours whether I shoot him or not?”

“You try it again and I’ll show you what business it is of mine, if the whole German army is standing round,” shouted Chester furiously.

Hal grabbed his friend by the coat and attempted to pull him back, but Chester was too angry now to pay any heed, and he stood facing the German threateningly.