PEP’S master was very quiet all the way home and the wise dog knew intuitively that he was disturbed about something. He tried several times by rubbing against him, to get him to notice his “blue ribbon dog,” but after several futile attempts he settled down at his end of the seat and went to sleep with his muzzle on his master’s knee. He had often seen the doctor like this, when studying on some perplexing case, so he wisely left him to his thoughts.

Occasionally he would wake up and look at him out of the corner of one eye, when he would find him studying the disturbing letter that the messenger boy had given him. It was not until they were almost home that the doctor aroused himself and took the dog into his confidence.“Pep, old boy,” he said, stroking his sleek sides, rubbing his nose, and pulling his ears gently in a way he loved, “we have got a hard task ahead of us. I don’t know what the mistress will say. We have expected it for weeks, but it will be a shock just the same.”

The motor was waiting for them at the station as the doctor had telegraphed ahead and they were soon whizzing through the darkness towards Pep’s kennel, which he considered the best spot on earth.

“How did the mistress take it, Thompson?” asked the physician as they bowled along. “I did not say what was up, but I imagined she would guess. You know I had intended to stay the rest of the week.”

“She knew right off. She is bearing up well, sir, but it is a great blow to us all. She’s a brave little woman, doctor, and won’t show the white feather.”

The little woman referred to met them at the door. She had a warm embrace for the doctor, and a pat on the head for Pep, but she did not even notice the blue ribbon, which showed how disturbed they were.“It’s come at last, Betty,” said the doctor briefly as he removed his overcoat. He handed her the hateful telegram and stood watching as she read it.

Pep watched both his mistress and master narrowly and his dog heart was troubled. For he noticed that his mistress shivered as she took the telegram. The little cry that escaped her as she read it, made him whimper and go to her, standing on his hind legs and putting his paws on her knees.

She reached down and stroked his glossy head and a tear fell on his upturned muzzle.

“I wouldn’t have you miss it for the world, John,” she finally managed to say. “It’s a man’s part and you are every inch a man, but it has come so suddenly.”

“You are a brave woman, Betty,” the doctor returned chokingly. “I thank you for making it so easy for me. It is just as hard for me to go as it is for you to have me. There is little danger to a surgeon. I will come back all right.

“Look at Pep, Betty. He wants you to see his blue ribbon. He is a blue ribbon dog now. He’ll take care of you while I am gone. Won’t you, old sport?”

The mistress admired the trophy as much as Pep could have wished, but somehow it did not satisfy him. He knew instinctively the house was filled with tragedy and what was a blue ribbon more or less when such things were happening.

For the next two hours every one hurried frantically to and fro; such confusion Pep had never seen in the well-ordered house. The mistress would suffer no hands but her own to finally pack the doctor’s suit case.

Others might hand things to her, but her hands must tuck them away for him.

Pep followed disconsolately from room to room, keeping out of the way as well as he could. He finally took up his position by the front door and waited. This was the door through which his master always left when he went on important missions. He determined not to be left behind. If it made his mistress feel so badly to have master go away he would go with him, then she would know he would be safe. Of course all this packing meant his master was going away. He had seen it many times before, but why they hurried so, and why every one’s heart ached, he could not imagine.

At last, everything was ready and Thompson and the motor were at the door. The doctor came into the office. Pep saw that his face was very white. The mistress came in also and stood close to him. Her face also was white and she was trembling. Neither spoke for several seconds. Then the doctor took her in his arms and held her tight for at least a minute. Then still without speaking, he set her gently down in the large easy chair and with a sudden motion, slipped out of the front door with his suit case.

He went so suddenly that the cry of the mistress and the bang of the door sounded almost together.

The closing door missed Pep’s muzzle by barely an inch. He leaped at it and whined frantically and whimpered as the motor rolled away. Then like the faithful companion and sympathetic friend that he was, leaped into his mistress’ lap to kiss away her tears and comfort her.

She hugged him to her heart and poured out her grief in his sympathetic ears. Of course he did not know just what made her feel so badly, but he snuffled in unison with her and told her as plainly as a dog could that he felt just as badly as she did and that they were fellow sufferers.

Finally, the mistress dried her eyes and went to straighten out the house. Pep lay down upon his favorite rug to think. He did not intend to submit tamely to being left behind in this unceremonious manner.

He thought to such good advantage that when Thompson came back with the motor, he had fully made up his mind. When the chauffeur at last came in after putting up the car, Pep was waiting for him at the front door.

He had his muzzle close to the crack so as to be ready. Thompson had barely opened the door and squeezed partly through, for he had been warned to look out for Pep, when the terrier shot between his legs and with a scurry of feet along the walk, he was gone into the darkness. A second later, he was out on the street running frantically for the depot. Thompson and the mistress whistled and shouted but he paid no attention to them, and they saw him disappear twenty rods away around a corner, running like the wind.

“He’s gone after the doctor. The little cuss has gone to war,” cried Thompson. “What shall we do? The doctor told me half a dozen times to-night to keep an eye on him.”

“Take the motor and follow to the station. He can’t go further than that.” So for the second time that night, the doctor’s machine whizzed away to the depot.

Thompson had to put some gasoline in the car before he could follow, so Pep reached the depot five minutes ahead of the machine. Instead of finding the train puffing away on the tracks as he had expected, the rails were clear. His master had gone. He was too late. He sniffed frantically up and down the platform to find the scent but there was none that he could recognize. Then he remembered the track. The two shining sticks that the train always ran upon.

He knew which way his master had gone, the one way to New York. He looked up at the station platform and away into the darkness. Then Thompson and the motor whizzed up: That decided him. He turned his nose towards New York and galloped frantically down the track.

Meanwhile the doctor sat in the smoking car chewing savagely on the end of his cigar, and looking gloomily out of the window. His home and his wife had hitherto been all and all to him.

Now his country had called him. He found to his surprise that there had been all the time a deep sense of love of country lying dormant in his nature. A newsboy on the train was selling small silk flags. The doctor purchased one and placed it in his buttonhole. His fingers now fondled it lovingly as he mused.

All that he loved here in the homeland was dropping further and further behind. This new strange passion for country was taking him far from home, wife, and friends, to what hardships and struggles he knew not. It did not matter though as long as he came through safe and sound.

At this point in his reflections, a shiver ran through the train. At first it was only a tremor, but immediately it grew into a crashing, grating, grinding sound. The train buckled in the middle, raising three cars fairly from the track. Others swayed this way and that.

There was the sound of breaking car floors, of shattered glass, and grinding car-frames. Together with the more frightful sound of the ripping of rails and the breaking of ties, but shot through all these mighty sounds of destruction, was the frantic screams of women, and the hoarse cries of men, who fought and struggled as they felt themselves hurled to doom.

It was only a broken axle that had caused all this destruction of life and property. So the superintendent’s report said a few days later.

The car in which the doctor was riding fared better than many of the others and merely toppled on its side after being butted off the track.

The physician was thrown across the isle, but not injured. Almost before the rest of the passengers knew what had happened he was on his feet and breaking his way out through a window. Five minutes later, he was going from point to point attending the injured, organizing relief and giving what aid he could with the limited means at hand.

Meanwhile, Pep was galloping frantically after the express train. He had not dreamed it was such a long way to New York. It had always seemed like a very short ride to him while sitting on a car seat looking out of the window. Surely the great snorting thing which drew the train had long legs and ran very fast.

For an hour the terrier galloped at his best pace, but the straight and level way stretched on just as straight and unending as it had been when he started. By this time he was getting tired, so he slowed down and began to wonder if he should ever reach the great city where he had been so recently to the dog show. Perhaps he had not done right to come. He knew well that Thompson and his mistress had called him. He had heard them plainly. Perhaps his master would not even be glad to see him. Maybe he would rather he had remained at home to guard the place while he was gone. His thoughts were not probably quite as definite as this, but he began to have misgivings about running away.

Now a bright light loomed up in the distance. It was the train. No, it could not be. It was coming towards him. On it came like a terrible demon, rushing straight at him. He bolted down the embankment to safety just as the train swept by. It was on one of the other tracks and would not have harmed him, but it was just as well not to take any chances. He had seen a careless dog cut in two once at his home town station.

Again Pep took to the rails and galloped on for another fifteen minutes. Then his patience was rewarded for he saw a light ahead. Not one but several. There were men running hurriedly about. The train had stopped.

It must be the doctor’s train for it was on the right track. He would find his beloved master soon.

Almost the first person that Pep saw as he galloped up to the wreck was the doctor. He was kneeling beside a man lying on the ground. The man was groaning and the physician was doing something for him. Pep was a doctor’s dog and quite well versed in the ways of doctors. He had often sat on his favorite rug in the office during a serious consultation. He did not notice that his master was trying to replace a dislocated shoulder, or he never would have jumped and pulled his coat tail as he did. To the doctor at this critical time, all dogs were alike. So without even looking around, he kicked at the intruder who was disturbing his work.

The kick though slight, caught Pep under the jaw and made him yelp, but it hurt his feelings mightily. Here he had nearly run his legs off to catch up with the train and his master did not even look around when he barked. Also an unheard of thing had happened, he had kicked him. So he retired to the edge of the circle of light that surrounded the wreck and sat on his haunches watching the doctor work.

Presently the shoulder snapped back into place and the surgeon passed on to other unfortunates. Pep followed at a distance, always keeping on the rim of light at the edge of the darkness. For half an hour he dodged about, keeping himself half in the shadow watching, then a wrecking train came up and a score of doctors and nurses descended.

At about the same time, the forward part of the wrecked train, which had not left the rails, was made ready for completing the run to New York.

The conductor went up and down calling for every one to get aboard. With genuine alarm, Pep saw his master climb into the car nearest the engine, but he did not dare to follow him. He was probably very angry and would not like to see him at all.

He saw the conductor wave his arm at the engineer who was leaning out of the cab window, then the locomotive began to puff and the train to move.

While two cars went past him Pep stood uncertain, then with a scramble and a glad bark he sprang upon the rear platform of the third and last car. He went with such a rush that he nearly slid off on the other side, but he finally gained his footing, and crouched down beside the door.

Presently the train got up speed. The car swayed from side to side and he slipped and slid on the smooth floor. The train also made a great noise, which terrified him.

He was lonesome also, as there was no one to notice him out there alone in the dark. There certainly was a difference between traveling in a warm coach with one’s master, and slipping and sliding about on the rear platform, stealing a ride like an ordinary tramp.

After about half an hour, which seemed much longer to Pep, the train entered the long, dark underground passage which he had always noticed just before they reached the great city. They were almost there.

When the train at last stopped, Pep slid down from his platform and ran along towards the engine, but his master was too quick for him. When he reached the car where he had seen him enter, he was walking rapidly down the platform, almost running in fact. A taxi driver was carrying his master’s suit case and they seemed much excited.The official at the gate saw they were in a great hurry so did not detain them and Pep slipped through between his legs, while he was looking at the ticket of a passenger who was just entering.

Pep had all he could do to keep his master’s legs in sight and not confuse them with some other man’s legs. To him the place was all legs; legs and skirts hurrying this way and that. Electric gongs were ringing, men and women were calling to one another, the megaphone man was shouting out the trains, and engines were thundering in the train sheds.

“We’ve got just forty minutes to make the boat,” said Pep’s master as he scrambled into the taxi and the driver hurled the suit case in after him.

“Can you make it?”

The man’s reply was lost by the slamming of the door, but he sprang into the driver’s seat and the motor started.

Pep had not been allowed to follow the doctor’s car at home, but this was different. His master had gone off and left him. He had not dared even make himself known. For a second he hesitated, then fell in behind the motor and began a wild race for the wharf.

Such a bedlam he had not even dreamed of as that which filled his ears, once they were fairly out on Broadway. Machines whizzed by at every rod. He kept close to the taxi so as not be run down by some passing machine. Several times the taxi almost stopped and once the doctor shouted to the driver that they must hurry. Out and in they twisted, breaking many traffic rules, but always making sure and steady progress towards the wharf. At last they whizzed down into the great noisy thoroughfare leading to the waterway. Finally, the machine stopped. The driver snatched the suitcase and the doctor fairly ran after him as they hurried towards a strong gate that was constantly opening and closing with a loud bang.

Even before they reached it, Pep made up his mind that if his master got through without seeing him, he would lose him. So as the gate opened, he sprang upon the physician with a glad bark. The doctor turned and looked down at him.

Then Pep leaped full in his arms and planted a dog kiss on his cheek.

“For Heaven’s sake, Pep,” exclaimed the astonished physician. “Is that you? Where in the world did you drop from? I must find some one to take you back home.”

“You’ll have to hurry, mister,” shouted the taxi driver.

“What can I do with this dog?” cried the perplexed physician. “I don’t know how he ever got here, but I can’t leave him alone.”

“You are going to miss the boat. You can’t wait another minute.”

“Take him along. You can ship him back on the boat, or find some one to take care of him on the other side.”

Pep stood on his hind legs looking up into his master’s face. The doctor was dazed and uncertain. The taxi man shouted again.

“I tell you the boat will sail in just one minute. Take him along, or miss the boat.”

“All right, old pal. It’s us for Europe.” With these words, the doctor stooped down and gathered Pep up in his arms partially covering him with his overcoat to shield him from fussy officials, and followed the excited taxi driver into the elevator. Up they shot, and then along the gangplanks to the great floating palace which was to be Pep’s home for the next ten days.

About ten seconds later the tug began straining at the hawser working the great boat out of her slip. The adventure had fairly begun. Dog and master were upon their way across the Atlantic to take part in the great struggle against the Hun.