"Rear rank, one pace step back--march!" Cadet Kaye breathed freely once more. The ordeal, as far as the front rank men were concerned, was over. But before the inspection was completed came an unexpected diversion. It was all the fault of Gripper, the Major's bull-terrier and mascot-in-chief to the Averleigh T.D.S. If Gripper hadn't forgotten time and place, and hadn't taken it into his head to chase the mess-room cat across the parade-ground, the inspection would doubtless have gone on without a hitch. But the bull-terrier was off, nearly capsizing the Colonel, while in his wake a heavy cloud of dust rose sullenly in the air. Gripper had no intention of hurting Satan--the huge black cat. It was merely an effort on his part to pass the time of day with his feline chum; but unfortunately Peter, the large sheep-dog, and Shampoo, the Skye terrier, had misgivings on the score, or perhaps they felt that they were being left out in the cold by Gripper's sudden disappearance from the parade. They, too, joined in the chase. Evidently Satan regarded three tormentors as being beyond the limit. Climbing upon the balustrade of the verandah in front of the officers' mess the cat eyed the three excitedly-leaping dogs for nearly a quarter of a minute. Then, before the animals realized what it was about, Satan gave the bull-terrier a smart scratch on the tip of his nose just as Gripper reached the zenith of a prodigious leap. Then, following upon the initial success, the feline sprang fairly and squarely upon Peter's woolly back, administered a cuff with a taloned claw, and immediately directed his attention to the luckless Shampoo. The Skye, finding himself pursued by the namesake of the Prince of Darkness, bolted precipitately towards the ranks of No. 4 Flight; while Gripper and Peter, having first shown an inclination to chastise each other for being the cause of their discomfiture, started in pursuit of Satan. So far, officers, cadets, and men had thoroughly enjoyed the diversion, but when the terror-stricken Skye ran yelping between the lines, and Satan, finding himself exposed to a rear attack, promptly leapt upon the shoulders of a cadet-sergeant, No. 4 Flight began to grow unsteady on parade. To make matters worse Gripper and Peter, dividing their attention between the cat and themselves, were scrapping and yelping around the men's feet. Later on many of the cadets faced Hun "anti" and machine-gun fire with equanimity, but the knowledge that only a few folds of puttees intervened between their calves and two jaws armed with particularly aggressive teeth was too much for their newly-instilled habits of discipline. For quite a minute pandemonium reigned in the shattered ranks of No. 4 Flight, until the Colonel, in stentorian tones, suggested that it was time that the performance drew to a close.