“Like it better outside?”

“No, no; it isn’t that.”

“Then why are all you fellows hanging around here?  Any old dog can see it’s better beyond the arch.”

“You see, we’re waiting for our folks to come.”

The Airedale grasped it at once, and nodded understandingly.

“I felt that way when I came along the road.  It wouldn’t be what it’s supposed to be without them.  It wouldn’t be the perfect place.”

“Not to us,” said the bull-terrier.

“Fine!  I’ve stolen bones, but it must be that I have been forgiven, if I’m to see them here again.  It’s the great good place all right.  But look here,” he added as a new thought struck him, “do they wait for us?”

The older inhabitant coughed in slight embarrassment.

“The humans couldn’t do that very well.  It wouldn’t be the thing to have them hang around outside for just a dog—­not dignified.”

“Quite right,” agreed Tam.  “I’m glad they go straight to their mansions.  I’d—­I’d hate to have them missing me as I am missing them.”  He sighed.  “But, then, they wouldn’t have to wait so long.”

“Oh, well, they’re getting on.  Don’t be discouraged,” comforted the terrier.  “And in the meantime it’s like a big hotel in summer—­watching the new arrivals.  See, there is something doing now.”

All the dogs were aroused to excitement by a little figure making its way uncertainly up the last slope.  Half of them started to meet it, crowding about in a loving, eager pack.

“Look out; don’t scare it,” cautioned the older animals, while word was passed to those farthest from the gate:  “Quick!  Quick!  A baby’s come!”

Before they had entirely assembled, however, a gaunt yellow hound pushed through the crowd, gave one sniff at the small child, and with a yelp of joy crouched at its feet.  The baby embraced the hound in recognition, and the two moved toward the gate.  Just outside the hound stopped to speak to an aristocratic St. Bernard who had been friendly: 

“Sorry to leave you, old fellow,” he said, “but I’m going in to watch over the kid.  You see, I’m all she has up here.”

The bull-terrier looked at the Airedale for appreciation.

“That’s the way we do it,” he said proudly.

“Yes, but—­” the Airedale put his head on one side in perplexity.

“Yes, but what?” asked the guide.

“The dogs that don’t have any people—­the nobodies’ dogs?”

“That’s the best of all.  Oh, everything is thought out here.  Crouch down,—­you must be tired,—­and watch,” said the bull-terrier.

Soon they spied another small form making the turn in the road.  He wore a Boy Scout’s uniform, but he was a little fearful, for all that, so new was this adventure.  The dogs rose again and snuffled, but the better groomed of the circle held back, and in their place a pack of odds and ends of the company ran down to meet him.  The Boy Scout was reassured by their friendly attitude, and after petting them impartially, he chose an old-fashioned black and tan, and the two passed in.