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In the young German officer's dugout "Golden-Eyes" faced him in a new, strange world. A world where a roof of sweet-smelling young trees, with the bark still glistening, showed its mossy, while beauty in the golden glow of a myriad-armed gold candlestick looted from a French chateau, and where the light from wax tapers from a church danced on sabers, maps and muddied coats. "Golden-Eyes" backed against the light and smoothed her hair back—and then remembered that the coquette "retreated!"....and that nothing invited like a backward step....And then the quarters where French beauty linked arms with nature and mocked at the Boche who thought to camrad with her—spun round in sore fright while she stiffened her small body under the gray arms that closed around her. There was a very small noise at the door. Enraged, thinking his men dreamed of spying on his diversion, the officer jerked open the door with a free arm and glared—upon the muddy, upright, weary figure of a collie dog, dabbled with blood, frothy with thirst—but able at the sight of the man in gray to snarl horribly on wide-spread legs!
"Golden-Eyes" fell on her knees beside "Uncle Sam," and there was rage and happiness ringing with GUILE in her face as she raised it and smiled on the Boche!
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