"Oh, you silly boy! of course you fell out of that narrow bed. What possessed you to all crowd in there when there are three beds in the room?"

"We did not wish to pay for all three."

"Then why did you not tell me that you wished only one bed, and I would have put you in a room where there is a larger one? Now, why did you barricade the door?"

"We were afraid of robbers," explained Paul after a long pause.

This amused the innkeeper mightily and he laughed till he shook.

"Locked and barred one door and left the other standing wide open!" he said with tears of mirth in his eyes.

"Well, well," he said, "no harm is done. Now each one get into a bed, with no heed to the pay. Mr. Furman has paid the whole bill for your stay here in return for the sweet songs you sang for him."

The boys made great eyes over this piece of news, and lost no time in getting themselves into the other beds.

"Wait, boys! You must first put the pieces of furniture back in their places, then go to bed and sleep well. You yet have several hours. What time do you wish to leave in the morning?"

"At six o'clock we must be on our way."

"All right," said the jolly landlord, and as he glanced at their rosy, bright faces, each in his own bed, he laughed, shook his head and went out, and soon the three boys and Pixy were sound asleep.

It is not known how long they would have slept had not the landlord paid them another visit.

"You have slept past the breakfast hour. Do you intend sleeping until dinner time?" he asked laughingly.

"No indeed! What time is it?" asked Fritz, opening his eyes sleepily.

"Nine o'clock and I thought you wished to start at six."

"Up, you sleepers!" cried the boy, as he sprang out of bed. The others obeyed promptly and commenced dressing, and in a short time appeared with clean hands, faces and teeth, at the good breakfast provided for them, their hair neatly brushed, and their spirits refreshed from a sound sleep in comfortable beds. On the back porch was a dish of good food for Pixy, that he might be ready to go as soon as the boys finished the meal.

When they were about to continue their journey, the landlord gave each of them a large roll and one for Pixy, saying that it would stay hunger until they reached an inn where they could take dinner.

Pixy was delighted to see them again on the move, and while the boys were bidding the host and hostess good-bye ran out in the street; and before his master caught up with him, he was in the midst of a fight with street curs. Fritz ran to protect his pet, who was taking his own part bravely, and Peter, the waiter at the inn, ran with a bucket of cold water which he dashed upon the circling ma.s.s of yelpers, and the fight was brought to a sudden finish.

Pixy came out of the combat sound, and ready for another fight, and Fritz was unharmed; the only injury being to the seat of his trousers, from which a piece had been torn by one of the street curs as a souvenir of the first visit to Umstadt.

"Come here, child;" called the landlady to Fritz, "you cannot go among the stylish people of Frankfort with the hem of your shirt showing. I will mend it as well as I can, and when you get there, your aunt can mend it better. Now see what trouble your dog has brought upon you!"

"Pixy didn't tear my pants. It was one of the strange dogs. I am glad I brought him."

"No, your dog did not tear them, but if he had not been here there would not have been a fight."

"But he did not commence it. They fought him, and he had to defend himself."

"That too is true, but they do not wish a strange dog among them, nor will other dogs he meets on his travels. So he should have been left at home. Now go up to your room and take one of the boys with you to bring down your trousers, and I will do the best I can to mend them."

This was done, and Fritz sat disconsolately upon a chair waiting for the return of Paul. He began to question within himself whether he had done a wise thing to bring Pixy. The first dogs they had met had fought him, and it might be that he would get worsted in many a battle before he was again safely at home.

At length Paul brought up the trousers, but to Fritz's dismay the patch was of different color. His father being a cloth merchant, the cloth was of good quality and Fritz had always been rather proud of it, but now to have a dark blue patch on dark brown trousers was mortifying indeed. But there was no help for it. The good woman had done the best she could, and he must wear them until he reached Frankfort.

A happy thought came to Paul. "Wear your rain-coat," he said. "It is long enough to hide the patch."

Franz, who had come up to learn the cause of delay, thought it an excellent idea, so ran down and brought up the knapsack containing the coat.

Fritz put it on, much relieved that the objectionable ornament was hidden from public view, and the three went below to resume their journey.

More than an hour had been lost by this mishap, and the landlord advised that they take the train to Frankfort in continuance of their journey.

"But we set out to walk, and told everybody that we were going to walk, and we _will_ walk," responded Fritz resolutely.

"That would be all right if you had started early enough. You might then by steady walking have made the journey before dark. As it is, you cannot reach there until night which would be rather hard for you in a strange city, and you would have to wake your aunt out of sleep to let you in."

"But we have an hour yet until dinner time. We can walk a long distance in an hour."

"All right, then. Good-bye, and a pleasant journey."

"Good-bye, and a pleasant journey," echoed Peter, who, having cleaned the dust from the shoes of the three, carried their wash-water up to their room, and thrown water on the fighting dogs, was in evidence on the porch waiting for tips.

"Will we give him anything?" whispered Paul.

"No," replied Fritz. "I would think if Mr. Furman paid for all, he would not forget to give Peter something for waiting upon us. Come on."

Had they opened their hearts to give the waiting Peter a few pennies, it would have saved them much anxiety, but they walked away without casting one backward glance.

They felt somewhat weary from their walk of the day before, yet enjoyed the fresh air, the song of the birds, the fragrant smell of woods and meadows; and Pixy frolicked along sometimes before and sometimes behind them, but never losing sight of his master.

They had walked more than a mile when Fritz halted suddenly and grasped the arm of Paul.

"Did you take our money from under your pillow?" he asked.

"I? No, I never thought about it. You put it under the pillow, and I have never thought of it since seeing you put it there."

"Now, Paul, it was Franz and I who went to the other beds, you were left in the one where the money was hidden. You must have it, and are only trying to scare us. Of course, you would not leave it under the pillow."

"Of course I did! I tell you that I never thought of it once."

"Then, Franz, you would not forget it. Certainly you have it in your pocket."

"Certainly I have not! I have never thought of it since you put it under the pillow."

"Oh, that is too bad!" cried Fritz, flushing with dismay. "We will have to go back to the inn and get it."

"Not I," a.s.serted Franz. "I would be ashamed to go back. Remember how Mr. Swan laughed because we stacked things against the door."

"Nor will I," echoed Paul stoutly.

"Then we can go no further on our journey to Frankfort; we will have to go back home, for we have no money."