Sometimes, however, he would follow at our heels as faithfully and instinctively as Bruno himself.

For the past two years Bruno and Gibson had been inseparable, sleeping together at night, and never parting for a moment the whole day long.

Indeed, I am sure Bruno became more attached to Gibson than he was to me.

And so Gibson did not, as I at one time feared he would, pass away into the Great Beyond, carrying with him the secret of his identity.

Looking at him as he lay back among the eucalyptus leaves, pale and emaciated, I knew the end was now very near.
I knelt beside him holding his hand, and at length, with a great effort, he turned towards me and said feebly, "Can you hear anything ?" I listened intently, and at last was compelled to reply that I did not.
"Well," he said, "I hear some one talking.