"Yes, you are right; I will be quiet, but we must go back now to Aunt f.a.n.n.y's. I have had enough of Frankfort for one day."

To this the others agreed, but when they left the bakery they went in the wrong direction, and had gone many squares before they realized their mistake.

"Yes, you are going exactly in the opposite direction from 37 Bornheimer street," said a policeman whom they accosted. "Face about and enquire of policemen and postmen whom you meet, and in time you will get there."

This they did and when they reached 37, Mrs. Steiner was on the porch looking for them. They ran up the steps and Franz and Paul left explanations to Fritz, who fell upon her neck weeping, and sobbing, "Oh, Aunt f.a.n.n.y, it is gone, all gone!"

"What is gone? Tell me, my little Fritz. You frighten me."

"My pocketbook, with my beautiful, bright gold-piece with the picture of Kaiser Frederick on it, and my two hard dollars, and my two mark-pieces--and my nickels; all are gone!"

"But, my pet, suppose you have lost your pocketbook, that is not saying that it cannot be found. There are plenty of honest people in the world who would be glad to return it if they could find the owner. We will search the papers and we may see in the 'found' column that some one has it, and will give it up to you."

"But, aunt, it is not an honest person but a thief who has it. I had no idea that anybody could steal from me," and he poured forth the whole story, concluding with, "Oh, my beautiful, bright gold-piece, with the face of Kaiser Frederick upon it!"

"Stolen! Dear Fritz, that is an entirely different thing from being lost. I, too, would never have thought of you allowing yourself to be robbed, for you spoke of reading so much about pick-pockets. It is evident that your dog was a better judge than his master. He had no confidence in the man, while you almost gave him your pocketbook."

"Oh, Aunt, don't remind me of that! I know it too well myself."

"No, dear, and I am sorry for your loss, and hope it will not make you lose confidence in your fellow-men. For one thief in the world there are thousands of honest people, but in a strange city and in a crowd one can be on guard without hurting the feelings of any stranger. Now I will hurry to the police station and give the information. No doubt you are not the only one the rascal has robbed, but if I can help it you will be the last, for a time at least. Franz, my boy, go to the kitchen and stir the beans. Stir quietly all the time I am gone. The soup and the veal roast are ready, and we can eat as soon as I come back, which will be in a few minutes."

She threw a little, fleecy shawl over her head and ran down the steps as lightly as a girl of fifteen. The boys in the meantime were in the kitchen, Fritz being so comforted by his aunt's sympathy and help that he could turn his attention to the dinner.

"This is pea-soup," he said, "and I certainly like it. Do you, Paul?"

"Yes, and the veal and the beans are good."

"But I could enjoy them all more if I had not lost my money. Oh, my beautiful gold-piece with the--"

"Likeness of Kaiser Frederick upon it," finished Franz. "Oh, Fritz, do give us a rest! It is gone, and if you tell it a thousand times, it will not make the thief bring it back and put it in your pocket. No, the rogue will have many good meals with its help, and the money will find its way into many pockets."

"Yes, that is what makes me feel so badly about it. I tried to save every penny of it and now it is gone! No wonder that you can feel cheerful! you have your money, but I--"

At that moment his Aunt f.a.n.n.y returned, and brought some cheer with her.

"While the police have no clue to the thief," she slid, "as no one saw the theft committed, yet they will take every means to trap him. And now, Fritz, don't grieve any more. You shall not feel the need of money if I can help it, for when you want it you shall have it. Now we will take the meat and other things to the table, but first I must fix Pixy's plate."

This was done and Fritz carried it to the porch, then they took seats at the table, their plates were filled and a dish of the pea-soup was at each plate. The kind little hostess was glad to see that they ate heartily and enjoyed their dinner. As she glanced at Fritz she said to herself: "Thank goodness that it was his money that was lost instead of his appet.i.te. That would be a far worse loss than even his gold-piece."

Roast veal, potatoes, beans and lettuce disappeared like mist, and before they arose from the table she said: "Boys, is your hunger entirely satisfied?"

"Perfectly satisfied!" was the unanimous response.

"Oh, what a pity!" she said, as if reflecting.

"Why a pity, Aunt f.a.n.n.y?" asked Fritz.

"Because I have a basket of fine ripe cherries in the cupboard which I intended for dessert. But as you are satisfied, I suppose we must wait for another time."

The young guests looked crestfallen, and for a time were silent; then Franz came to the rescue with the right word.

"Cherries," he remarked, "have so much juice that I do not know that they could be called food. Instead, I would say that they are more like drink."

"Franz, you are a born lawyer," laughed Aunt f.a.n.n.y. "You certainly deserve a fee for that brilliant opinion. As you say that you are satisfied that you have sufficient food, you may bring in a fresh drink in the shape of ripe, red cherries."

Franz was not slow to obey, and soon four heaps of cherry stones proved that the new drink was appreciated.

"Now could you enjoy another dessert?" asked Aunt f.a.n.n.y, smilingly. "One that you will appreciate quite as much as the red cherries? Look!" and she held up a letter and two postals.

"Oh, please, please! They bring us news from home," cried the boys in a breath; and Fritz asked who was to get the letter.

"It is for Paul, and you and Franz get the postals. Now you can read them while I take the dishes from the table."

"Oh," exclaimed Franz, "they have gathered the summer pears, and I was not there to help. But all are well, and they send love to Aunt Steiner and thank her for her goodness to me. Boys, what have you in yours?"

"All are well," responded Fritz, "but father says I should not have brought Pixy. He says that he will not only be a trouble to us and to Aunt f.a.n.n.y, but it will do the dog no good."

"I have never thought to ask where you got Pixy," remarked his aunt, "perhaps you can tell me, Fritz."

"Yes, aunt. He belonged to a neighbor who did not want him so gave him away. One cold day in winter the poor dog came all the way back, half starved, and scratched at our neighbor's door; but the hard-hearted man threw a bucket of cold water upon him and he ran to our door. Father took him in, fed and dried him, and the first week kept saying, 'If I only knew of some one who wants a good, gentle, young dog.' After another week he said, 'I will keep the dog. I could not bear to give him to some one that might not be kind to him.' So we kept him and named him Pixy, which father said was another name for fairy. I hope nothing will happen to him on this journey, for father would be so sorry."

"We will all care for him, that nothing may happen," said his aunt, cheerfully.

"Aunt f.a.n.n.y, when I write home, will you write a line in my letter and say that you will see that nothing happens to Pixy?"

"Certainly, I will say that we will take the best care of him that we can."

"Oh, yes, Pixy will be all right, but my beautiful, bright gold-piece which--"

"Have you begun to sing that old song again?" exclaimed Franz. "You have been robbed of your money, and you are robbing us of pleasure!"

"Oh yes, you can talk of pleasure, but I--"

"Listen, my boy," said his aunt, "worrying will not bring your pocketbook back, and you must not lose this beautiful afternoon in grieving; but go out and see something of the city. My old friend and cousin, Gotfried Braun, is coming to go with you and will point out places of interest. He knows them all for he has lived in Frankfort all his life, and will give you the history of them."

"I am real glad. I love to see and hear of historic places," said Paul, and he had scarcely finished speaking when the old gentleman stepped in and was greeted as a loved friend.

"All the young people of his acquaintance call him Uncle Braun, and I think he will be pleased to have my boys call him that, will you not, cousin?" she enquired, turning to the old man.

"I certainly will, and now let us set out, for we have much to see."

"Can I take Pixy, Uncle Braun?" asked Fritz.

"Yes, you can take him, for we are not going into any buildings to-day, but when we visit them he cannot go unless he wears jacket and trousers and walks upright."

Fritz was jubilant over this and the three rushed for their hats, and they were off. Mrs. Steiner, standing upon the porch, looked after them until they were out of sight.

"Thank good Braun that I can stay at home this afternoon for I have many things to do that cannot be put off any longer," she said to herself, as she set to work to put the place in order and then go out to buy things to cook for supper.