At this point the other officer evidently decided it was time to interfere.

“Come, come,” he said to Chester.  “That’s enough of this.  I am sure Lieutenant Dennig meant no harm.  I’m sure he’ll apologize if he has said or done anything to displease you.”

“What!  Me apologize?” demanded the German.  “And what for, pray?”

“I don’t want any apology,” declared Chester.  “All I want is for him to understand he can’t shoot a dumb animal while I’m around.”

“Is that so?” sneered the German, but the boys’ guard cut him short.

“Lieutenant Dennig,” he said sharply, “you forget yourself.  These prisoners are under my protection and shall not be insulted.”

The lieutenant drew himself up sharply, saluted his superior officer, and walked rapidly away.

“One more enemy,” said Chester to Hal, as the man made off.

“Oh, he’ll get over it,” laughed the boys’ guard.  “He knows he is in the wrong—­that’s what makes him so angry.”

The object of this little unpleasantness still stood near, wagging his tail and looking at the two lads.  When they continued their walk toward their tent, he calmly followed them.

The lads did not notice this, however, until they had entered the tent, and then Hal espied the nose of their newly-found friend poking its way in after them.  A moment later and the dog was curled up at one side of the tent, sleeping.

“Looks like there were three of you to guard now, instead of two,” said the officer.  “However, I guess it is all right.”

“I wonder if it would be possible,” said Chester, struck with a sudden thought, “for us to take him to Berlin with us?”

“I’ll see what can be done about it,” replied the officer.  “I believe that I can arrange it all right.”

“We certainly would appreciate it,” continued Chester, “and, if the time ever comes when we may be of service to you, you may command us.”  The officer smiled.

“I doubt if you will ever have the opportunity,” he said.  “Present circumstances would indicate that there is little likelihood of it.”

“Well, you never can tell,” said Hal, “the fortunes of war, you know.”

“True,” said the German, “and, if ever occasion arises, I shall take you at your word.”

He bowed and left the tent.  Hal and Chester now turned their attention to the dog, which still lay sleeping.  Chester whistled sharply.  The dog was on his feet in a second, ears cocked and sniffing the air eagerly.

“A real war dog, all right,” said Chester.  “What shall we call him, Hal?”

“Perhaps he has a name already,” said Hal.  “Try him.”

Chester called off the many dog names familiar to him, and Hal added a few.  But, although the animal wagged his tail with evident pleasure at thus being talked to, he gave no evidence of owning any of the names in the boys’ vocabulary.

Hal approached and laid his hand on the dog’s head.  Then, for the first time, he noticed the collar he wore.