Although the kick was a heavy one, Laddie never uttered a sound. Like an arrow from a bow the dog flew straight at the leg that was wearing the offending boot.
Laddie bit hard—so hard that Osborne afterwards declared that he could hear the dog's teeth grinding upon the aggressor's shin-bone. Yelling frantically with pain and terror the German strove to shake off the animal, but, retaining a vice-like hold, Laddie hung on, and finally threw the fellow on deck. As for his comrades, they ran panic-stricken down the brow and across the Mole in spite of the efforts of the guards to keep them under control. Nor did the British bluejackets attempt to interfere. There was no knowing what the angry animal might or might not do, and since the Hun brought the punishment upon himself there was no great anxiety on the part of the crew to intervene.
"That's enough, I think, Mr. Osborne," said Captain M'Bride quietly.
The Lieutenant had his doubts as to whether his pet would, in his fury, listen to his master's voice.
"Come here, Laddie," he ordered sternly.
The dog obeyed instantly, and releasing his grip trotted over to Osborne's feet. Not possessing the luxury of a tail, Laddie wagged the whole of his hind quarters as much as to say: "Now, who says a dog cannot do his bit for his country?"
Limping painfully the brutal German was assisted down the gangway. He had had his lesson.
"What did that Hun give you?" asked Osborne some minutes later.
"I'd forgotten all about it," said Webb, producing the packet from his pocket. "Laddie's little dust-up put all thought of it out of my head. It is from a fellow to whom I gave a hand when we were 'in the ditch'. He didn't seem particularly grateful then, but I suppose he was a bit done up. Hallo, what's this?"
He held up an Iron Cross.