After he had eaten until he evidently could not take another morsel, we drew him in front of us as we sat side by side, for a three-cornered talk. He sat on end, waving his tail to and fro on the floor, wrinkling his forehead and cocking up his ears, while we explained the situation to him. We told him how kind Mr. Nimrod meant to be to him, how he would train him to hunt and take him on long daily runs. Then we reminded him how impossible it was for Julius to go on such excursions with him, and of how many scrapes he had got into by going alone,--he seeming to take it all in and to turn it over in his mind. Then we told him that since he had found our new home he could come often to see us, and he would always find us glad to see him,--yes, more than glad! Then Julius got his hat and said,-- "Come on, Boonie; now we're going home." He seemed quite willing to go. I told him good-by with a heart so light I could scarcely believe it the same one I had felt to be such a burden when I had set off for our walk two hours earlier. I busied myself then preparing a little supper against Julius's return; for we had not been able to eat since breakfast, and I knew by my own feelings that Julius would welcome the sight of a well-spread smoking table; and he said on his return that I "guessed just right." He and Bruno had found the Nimrods very much disturbed over their dog's disappearance. Mr. Nimrod had just returned from an unsuccessful search, and they were wondering what to do next. They welcomed the wanderer, but were concerned, too, that he had discovered our dwelling-place. "I'm afraid we'll have to keep him tied up now," said Mr. Nimrod. Julius thought not, and said,-- "Now that he knows where we are, and can come for a glimpse of us now and then, I believe he'll be better contented than he was when he thought we'd left the country." Better contented he certainly was, but he positively refused to stay at home. It soon came to be a regular thing for Julius to escort him back every evening. The Nimrods lived nearly a mile from us, so Julius did not lack for exercise. Mr. Nimrod finally came to remonstrate with us. "You ought to shut him out," he cried, "then he'd have to come back home." For answer, Julius showed him certain long, deep scratches on our handsome new doors, adding,-- "Don't you see? It's as much as our doors are worth to shut him out, and he leaps that four-foot fence as if it were but four inches." There was obviously no possible reply to such logic as this; so he continued to come,--dragging sometimes a rope or strap, or some other variety of tether, triumphantly proving that love laughs at locksmiths! The Nimrods at last lost heart. Bruno never would eat there, and he never stayed when he could manage to escape. One night it was raining hard when the time came for him to be taken "home," so they did not go; and that seemed to settle it. He was our dog.