that no one has been," I said to myself, as, feeling
thoroughly ashamed of my breach of trust, I went down to the dam, taking
a towel with me this time from out of my office-drawer, and there,
kneeling on the stones, I had a good bathe at my face and forehead, and
went back feeling ever so much fresher.

The sounds of toil were rising in the distance, and over the great town
the throb and hum and whirr of the busy hive was rising in the sunny
morning air, as, with the events of the night fading away, I went in to
my office to put away the towel and use the comb and brush I kept there.

That done, I was going to call Uncle Bob and walk back with him to our
home, for the men would soon be there.

Just then the water-bottle and glass upon my desk caught my eye, and,
like a flash, I remembered that I had filled the glass and drunk a
little water, leaving the glass nearly full so as to take some more if I
wanted it, for a glass of water was, I found, a capital thing to keep
off drowsiness when one was watching.

I was sure I had left that glass nearly full, and standing on the desk;
but I had not been and drunk any more, of that I was sure. I don't know
why I had not gone back to have some, considering how sleepy I was, but
I certainly had not. I was sure of it.

Then the water-bottle! It was a common plain bottle such as is used on
a wash-stand, and we had three of them always filled with fresh cold
water on the desks. Mine was full when I poured some out in the night,
and now it was quite empty; and as I stared at it and then about the
room I saw a great patch of wet on the carpet.

I looked farther and there was another patch--a smaller patch or big
splash, as if the contents of the glass had been thrown down.

It was very strange, and I could not understand it. I had not thrown
the water down. If I had wanted to get rid of it, I should have gone to
the sink outside or have opened the window, and thrown it out into the
dam.

The matter was of small consequence, and I paid no more attention to it,
but went to Uncle Bob, where he was lying, fighting with myself as to
whether I should tell him that I had been to sleep.

I did not like to speak, for I felt--well I felt as most boys would
under the circumstances; but I mastered my moral cowardice, as I
thought, and determined to tell him--after breakfast.

"Ah, Cob, old chap," he cried, jumping up as I laid my hand on his
shoulder, "what a delicious sleep! Wh