"Listen," the Master said, holding the medal in front of the collie. "Listen, while I read you the inscription: 'To Bruce. From some of the boys he saved from the boches.'" Bruce was sniffing the thin gold lozenge interestedly. The inscription meant nothing to him. But--strong and vivid to his trained nostrils--he scented on the medal the loving finger-touch of his old friend and admirer, Top-Sergeant Mahan. THE END