Mahan, like most other soldiers, honored and revered the Red Cross for its work of mercy in the army.  And the sight of one of the several local nurses of the Order won from him a glance of real approbation.

But presently into his weather-beaten face came an expression of glad welcome.  Out of the mairie gate and into the sleepy warmth of the street lounged a huge dark-brown-and-white collie.  The don stretched himself lazily, fore and aft, in true collie style, then stood gazing about him as if in search of something of interest to occupy his bored attention.

“Hello!” observed Mahan, breaking in on a homily of Vivier’s.  “There’s Bruce!”

Vivier’s leathery face brightened at sound of the collie’s name.  He looked eagerly in the direction of Mahan’s pointing finger.

“Ce brave!” exclaimed the Frenchman.  “I did not know even that he was in the village.  It must be he is but new-arriven.  Otherwise he would, of an assuredly, have hunted up his old friends.  Ohe, Bruce!” he called invitingly.

“The big dog must have gotten here just a few minutes ago,” said Sergeant Mahan.  “He was coming out of headquarters when I saw him.  That must mean he’s just struck the town, and with a message for the K.O.  He always goes like greased lightning when he’s on dispatch duty, till he has delivered his message.  Then, if he’s to be allowed to hang around a while before he’s sent back, he loafs, lazy-like; the way you see him now.  If all the courier-dogs were like him, every human courier would be out of a job.”

At Vivier’s hail the great collie had pricked his ears and glanced inquiringly up and down the street.  Catching sight of the group seated in front of the estaminet, he began to wag his plumy tail and set off toward them at a trot.

Ten minutes earlier, Bruce had cantered into Meran-en-Laye from the opposite end of the street, bearing in his collar a dispatch from the corps commander to the colonel of the “Here-We-Comes.”  The colonel, at the mairie, had read the dispatch and had patted its bearer; then had bidden the dog lie down and rest, if he chose, after his long run.

Instead, Bruce had preferred to stroll out in search of friends.

Top-Sergeant Mahan, by the way, would have felt highly flattered had he chanced to get a glimpse of the dispatch Bruce had brought to the colonel.  For it bore out Mahan’s own theory regarding the presence of spies at or near the village, and it bade the “Here-We-Come” colonel use every means for tracing them.

It added the information that three troop-trains with nine engines were to pass through the village that night on their way to the trenches, and that the trains were due at the junction at nine o’clock or shortly thereafter.  The mairie was on the other side of the street from the estaminet.  Incidentally, it was on the shady side of the street—­for which reason Bruce,—­being wise, and the day being hot,—­remained on that side, until he should come opposite the bench where his friends awaited him.