Pep was very tired and foot-sore. He did not feel sleepy, but very wide awake. There was a glad joy in his faithful dog heart for he had found his master, but all was not well with them yet. His master wanted to sleep and sleep. It was not like him. They were far from the hospital. These frightful noises were not good for either men or dogs, but he could do nothing else but just watch and wait. Again his master awoke and began talking to him strangely. He first threw the canteen and drank from it twice, but he did not seem to get relief. The truth was his fever was mounting and he was even weaker than he had been before. Both of these facts finally filtered into his consciousness. Something must be done at once.
He must have medical aid immediately. Somebody or something must come to them shortly or it would be too late. Again he drowsed and considered the facts in the case vaguely.
Once more he had a bright idea, which was another inspiration. He must manage in some way to get Pep to go for help. This was his only chance. He could not tell the dog what he wanted, but he could send him away. Perhaps he would find a Red Cross man somewhere in this inferno of a woods and bring him back, so he summoned all his remaining strength for this attempt.
“Here, Pep, old comrade. Come up close and listen.” Pep crowded a little closer and cocked his ears, alert and eager to do his master’s bidding.
“You must go for help. I can’t tell you so you will understand, but go home. Go home.” He struck the dog feebly on the shoulder and repeated the words, “Go home.”
The blow, slight as it was, hurt Pep keenly, but he listened. The doctor repeated the blow and the admonition.
The dog knew well what those words meant. They were the most hateful words in his dog vocabulary, which was not large. How many times his master had turned, when Pep wanted so much to follow, and said sternly, “Go home.”
He waited. Surely his master could not mean it this time. Here he was alone and sick away in the dark woods. Surely he wanted his dog to stay with him. But again the master struck him, and said, sternly, “Go home.”
Sadly, reluctantly, he turned, whimpering as he went and trotted off into the darkness occasionally looking back over his shoulder to see if his master had not repented.
The doctor heard him splash into the brook to cross it, then he sank down wearily, a great drowsiness creeping over him. For awhile he fought it, but finally yielded and sank into deep oblivion.