thanks to the restoratives given him and the nursing he received while on the journey, the doctor recovered consciousness before they reached the hospital. he did not seem to care about himself, but gave very minute directions regarding pep.
“he stuck by me like a brother and saved my life, and i want him to have every care that any wounded soldier would get. i want his leg put in splints, and the best surgeon in the hospital to dress it every day. you may think he is nothing but a dog, but i tell you he is a soldier and deserves a soldier’s care.”
after that the doctor lapsed into silence and let things take their course. he knew instinctively that everything would be done for him, but he was not so sure about pep.[117] some people appreciated dogs and some didn’t. he did not want any slight put on his little chum, now they had been through so much together.
so it was finally arranged that they should occupy the same ward; or, rather, pep was given a rug to lie on under a small table at the head of the doctor’s bed. he was very comfortable here so near his beloved master.
the doctor, as he lay drowsing, would often hear the dog give deep sighs of content as he settled down in a more comfortable position on his rug.
the slightest movement on the part of the doctor would set the dog’s tail wagging. every hour or so he would go to the bedside and reach his head up for a little petting. then he would kiss his master’s hand, and they would tell each other in dog and man language, which was half sign and half speech, how much they loved each other.
every morning when the surgeon made his rounds, he would speak to pep and attend to his splints in the presence of his master. if pep was feeling especially good, he would consent to follow the surgeon on[118] his visit down the ward, stopping critically at the bedside of each patient, and watching proceedings narrowly. but he always returned quickly to his master’s bedside once the surgeon had made his rounds. pep seemed to think that it was a part of his duty to look out for the poor soldiers now that his master could not.
it was a joyous day for pep when his master could finally hobble about the hospital on two canes. they went from ward to ward talking and joking with the men. everywhere they were greeted as heroes. the doctor always had to tell the story of pep’s long, faithful vigil in the woods on that hideous night. this would make the soldiers look hard at pep and stroke his head and tell him that he was a good old sport and that they were proud of him.
one day about three weeks after they had returned to the hospital, the doctor received a letter from home and he and pep retired to a quiet room to read it together.
“here, old pal, you climb up into my lap. be careful and don’t hurt my leg. i’ve got a letter. it’s from the little woman.”
[119]when he had opened the missive and spread it out, the doctor let pep smell it and from the delighted wags of his tail and a glad bark that he gave, the physician was sure that he recognized the scent of his mistress’s hand on the paper.
“it nearly broke her heart,” explained the doctor, “to know that both her soldiers were wounded. it has taken a great load from her to receive the second cable, saying that i am out of danger. she doesn’t mind if we are lame and crippled, if she can only get us back, pep.”
the dog was so excited about the letter that he constantly nosed and sniffed at it, so that it was difficult for his master to read it, but finally the end with worlds of love for them both was reached.
it was strange, thought the doctor, as he folded the letter and put it away, how this bit of paper had moved him. he had been through so much since coming to france, that he was not quite himself, but there was another consideration also. he had come so near to losing everything there in the argonne forest that life and home and loved[120] ones had become doubly dear. he had often seen strong men weep like babies when they received letters from home. it had seemed strange to him that they should be so moved, but now he understood.
two weeks more at the hospital went by and both master and dog improved rapidly. finally the doctor was able to give up one cane, while pep had his splint removed and his master declared that he would soon be as good as new.
it was about that time the division general visited the hospital. he brought with him the government’s reward for bravery. in the presence of the superintendent of the hospital, he pinned a cross for distinguished service on pep’s master’s coat.
“i wouldn’t be here at all to receive the cross, general,” said the delighted surgeon, “if it had not been for that dog.” the general asked for pep’s story and the doctor told it.
“wish i had a handful of crosses for dogs,” said the general at the conclusion of the story. “i would certainly give him one. here is some money. get him the finest[121] collar that money can buy and mark it from general blank, as a mark of his appreciation of distinguished service.”
with these words the general shook the doctor’s hand, and after stroking pep’s head went on his way, carrying cheer to the deserving soldiers in the hospital. as he went from ward to ward, he felt that all were deserving of the little crosses, but some were luckier than others.
the next day the doctor and pep went out shopping and bought the best collar to be found in the city and had it engraved as the general had directed. when they returned, pep went through the wards exhibiting his collar. he was a very proud dog. of course he did not just know what it was all about, but he felt quite sure that he had done something fine, and that these good men all knew it. so if wagging of his tail would show his appreciation, he certainly expressed his own feeling on the whole matter.
after two more pleasant weeks at the hospital they were discharged and the doctor packed up his earthly belongings, which[122] were few, and made ready to sail. the great ship on which they had come across was loading in the harbor and they did not intend to get left.
so one evening they made a final round of the wards and said good-by to all their friends. then they were spirited away to the wharf in a taxicab.
they should have gone like heroes, with bands playing and flags flying, but the exigencies of war forbade such publicity. instead they went in the dead of night, with lights all out so that they could not even see old glory at the masthead. thus they slipped out of the harbor into the broad atlantic.
when the sun came up the following morning, the great ship was far out at sea. it was a wonderful morning of blue sky and rolling billows and fresh wind. the entire scene suggested nothing but peace.
and best of all, the ship was homeward bound. home, home, home, sang the waves as they slipped under the bow, and the winds sang home in the rigging. but the weary[123] hearts of the passengers sang home louder than the winds or the waves.
probably the two most entirely happy passengers on the ship were pep and the doctor as they walked on the hurricane deck and watched the waves and the sky.
there were no other passengers on the deck and the doctor talked to pep as was his wont when they were alone, and the dog, delighted with this confidence, cocked his ears and listened intently to catch every word.
“it’s a great thing, pep, old sport, to be alive after what we have gone through.”
“that’s so,” wagged pep.
“those boches nearly got us both, old pal, but we finally gave them the slip.”
“so we did,” sniffed the dog.
“do you know we are going home to the little woman, pep? home, pep, home. we are going home.”
the dog saw that a climax in their joy had been reached so he barked gladly, at which the doctor laughed like a boy.
it was just at this point in their confidential[124] conversation that hilda and her father came on deck. the doctor, who had not known that they were aboard, greeted them joyously, while pep fairly wagged his tail off at the sight of his little playmate. soon the two were racing up and down the deck in the finest kind of a romp. this was after hilda had heard the story of pep’s bravery and spelled out the inscription on his new collar.
“come, pep,” said hilda. “let’s you and i sit here on this steamer rug and visit while our fathers talk and smoke. i mean while my father and your master visit. i haven’t hurt your feelings by saying he was not your father, have i?” inquired hilda. “i wouldn’t hurt the feelings of such a brave dog for the whole world.”
pep assured her with several warm dog kisses fairly upon the lips that his feelings were not hurt and she once more read the inscription on the collar.
“i’m awfully proud of you, pep,” said hilda. “you are as brave as a soldier. do you know i always remember you in my prayers? that is because you saved my[125] life. i say, ‘please, god, keep pep and give him lots of bones to eat.’”
the terrier wagged his appreciation. of course he did not know what she was saying, but he knew it was something good, and he must remember his manners and be appreciative. so he wagged and kissed and rubbed his cheek against hers.
“i think this is the very best morning i ever saw,” said hilda with a sigh of perfect rapture.
“so do i,” agreed pep with a short, glad bark.
“let’s be friends always,” said hilda, hugging the dog to her breast.
“all right,” sniffed pep, showering her face with dog kisses, “forever and forever.”
