Now I knew who he was—the kind man who had felt me all over and stroked me so kindly. So he had remembered me and had had me sent to this lovely cool summer place.
I nuzzled his coat buttons, then I followed his gaze, which was riveted on the boy.
"Sir," our young lad was saying excitedly, "my father told me I could tell you anything. That's the first time he ever said that to me about any living person."
"I appreciate his confidence," said the big man, wrinkling his eyebrows in an amused way.
"First of all, sir, please tell me why my father sent me here. I've never been allowed to leave home before unless John or Margie went with me."
"Suppose you ask him when he comes up here later."
The boy almost shouted. "Is my father coming here?"
"I hope so. He needs a rest. He sticks too closely to work."
"That's so, sir. He often falls asleep when I'm sitting in the library with him evenings. He's a wonderful man."