Towards dawn we both slept heavily, worn out with anxious surmises. We were awakened by a well-known whining and scratching at the door, and when we both sprang up to open it, in walked Bruno, looking just as he usually did in the morning,--lively, glad to see us awake, and ready for his breakfast. We gave him a welcome so warm it surprised and delighted him, while we vainly questioned him for an explanation of his desertion of us for the night. It was of no use. We could see that he had not been running, but where _had_ he been? We gave it up. Julius said his troubled night had left him without much appetite for work; but the man who was helping him would be there, so he thought it best to go over to the building, anyway. He surprised me by returning almost immediately. His face was lighted up and his eyes were dancing. "I came back to tell you where Bruno slept last night," he exclaimed. "You can't guess!" "No," I answered; "I have already given it up." "He went back to watch those tools I left over at the building. He dug himself a nest right beside them, drawing the edge of my old coat around for his pillow. The prints are all there as plain as can be!" We were amazed and delighted at this performance; the reasoning seemed so human. He had watched Julius arranging and leaving the tools, the while making up his own mind that it was an unwise thing to do, and evidently deciding to see to it later. His sitting with us till bedtime, keeping in mind his mental appointment, and then going forth without a word from any one to keep it, seemed to us to be a truly wonderful thing, and so it seems to me yet. From the first, we had made a constant companion of Bruno, talking to him always as if he could speak our language; and we have since thought that this must have been a sort of education for him, drawing out and developing his own natural gifts of thought and reason. He often surprised us by joining in the conversation. He would be lying dozing, and we talking in our usual tones. If we mentioned Robbie or Charlie, the two children who were his friends in his puppy days before he was our dog, or spoke of Leo, or of going somewhere, he would spring up all alert, running to the door or window, and then to us, whining and giving short barks of inquiry or impatience. Always, after that first time we had tried to give him away, he was subject to terrible nightmares. In his sleep he would whimper and sigh in a manner strangely like human sobbing. We thought at such times that he was going through those trying days again, in his dreams. So we always wakened him, petting and soothing him till he fully realized that it was only a dream. He had other ways which we thought noteworthy. Although he loved Julius better than he did me, yet he always came to me with his requests. If hungry or thirsty, he would come to me wagging his tail and licking his lips.