Jacques had taught Choc a lot of tricks. In the Place Sadi Carnot of an evening, with the band playing a march, you might have seen Choc on his hind legs marching up and down before his master. Visitors to Sidi-bel-Abbès, attracted by the animal's queer appearance and his tricks, would question Jacques about him, and the result was nearly always profitable to Jacques. It was said that Choc stole cigarettes for him in the native quarters of the town, sneaking packets from the Moslem traders' stalls whilst Jacques held the latter in light conversation, and not only cigarettes, but articles more bulky and more valuable. To-day, Jacques, having given Choc his bone and dismissed him, was turning to enter the barracks when he ran into the arms of Corporal Klein. "Ah, there's that dog of yours again," said Klein. "I was looking for you to tell you. The Colonel says he has had enough of him, and he's to be shot." Jacques swore the great oath of the Legion--which is unprintable. "Shot--and what for?" "Biting the sentry. It was last night after you had come back from the town. Seguer was on duty and the beast stuck about the gate, and Seguer tried to make him go and got bitten in the foot, right through his boot." "He must have kicked him," said Jacques. "Who knows? Not only that, but the Colonel says he has been having reports about you and him and your doings in the town, says that the Legion has enough blackguards in it without enlisting four-footed ones, and there you are, the order is promulgated, the dog has to go." "Catch him, then," said Jacques. Klein, a big man, in spite of his name, came towards Choc, who was busy with his bone. Jacques whistled shrilly between his teeth, and the dog, picking up his treasure, started for the barrack gate. Flying pebbles and dust marked his path, and he was gone. Klein laughed. He was a good-natured man, a friend of Jacques' and he had no grudge against the dog. "All the same," said he, "the dog has to go, you know what it is. The order has been given and once the order has been given there is no staying it." Jacques knew quite well what it was. He knew the Colonel and he knew the Legion. Choc might evade capture, but caught he would be, sooner or later. He said nothing, however. The bugle call for soup rang through the yard, and as he was orderly of his room he had to rush off to the kitchen, from where in a moment he returned, bearing a steaming can for his men; then he had to return for bread. No one noticed the least change in him, and if there had been a change in him nobody would have bothered. The Legion never bothers about anything, and the most monstrous happenings pass with scarcely a comment from the hearers and beholders. All that afternoon Jacques was engaged on scout-patrol manoeuvres, and at six o'clock, spick and span, he left the barrack yard for the town.