"But I must go with him. He would be frightened to be there without me."

"Certainly. You can go as freight if you wish. I have nothing to say against it."

Fritz hurried away, secured the ticket and returned, sad with the thought of being separated from his companions, but smiles came again to his face when they told him that they would go to the freight car with him.

They hurried in, and the train moved off while they were looking about them, hoping to see among the freight some boxes that would serve for seats.

They were nearly thrown off their feet, while Pixy, not at all unsettled by the motion of the cars, saw something so interesting in a slatted box filled with chickens that he sniffed and capered about in doggish delight. But the chickens were not at all pleased with his appearance, and fluttered, cackled and shrieked, awakening the old woman who was taking them to market.

"Whose black fiend of a dog is that, running loose about a freight car?"

she exclaimed angrily.

"It is mine, good lady," said Fritz soothingly. "I did not wish him to frighten your chickens."

"How do I know that you did not set him on them while I was asleep? If he has hurt them, you will pay well for them."

"See, here is the cord that I hold him with," said the boy, taking it from his knapsack. "I will tie it to his collar, and he will not go near your chickens again."

But all that he could say was but oil to the fire, and Fritz found that the wiser plan for him was to keep silent; while Pixy, understanding that the storm of words had something to do with him, crept behind the box on which his master sat and looked up at him with a very penitent air.

The seats the boys had taken did not prove permanent, for at every station some of the freight must be taken out, and some brought in, but they enjoyed the trip, for the old woman and her chickens left the car at one of the stations, and they had the place to themselves.

"Is this Frankfort?" they asked at every station.

"No," the guard replied, "and I expect you to ask at every stopping place until we really reach Frankfort, and then you will not ask."

"Why?" asked Fritz.

"Because you will know without asking."

Presently Franz called out, "Hurrah, we are here!"

"Where?" asked Fritz, hurrying to the window.

"At Frankfort. See, we are crossing a river. It is the Main. Yes, there is the dome! I know it from the picture of the cathedral in my picture of Frankfort."

"Didn't I say that you wouldn't ask if this is Frankfort? Now boys, out with you, and take your dog. Good-bye!"

CHAPTER IV

A KIND WELCOME

The train drew slowly into the depot at Frankfort, and for the first time in their lives the country boys saw something of the bustle and excitement of travel. A crowd of people was hurrying out of the cars, and an equally hurrying one was pa.s.sing in, while on the platform of the depot was a waiting crowd greeting returned ones, and bidding farewell to departing ones, in all of which the boys were so interested that for a time they forgot their own interests. At length the departure of the train brought to their remembrance that they, too, must depart and Fritz stepped up to an old gentleman whose pleasant countenance inspired confidence.

"We wish to go to the house of my aunt, Mrs. f.a.n.n.y Steiner," he said.

"Are you acquainted with her? She is a little, thin lady, has gray hair, and wears a widow's cap."

"No, my boy," smiled the old gentleman, "I have not the honor of her acquaintance. Perhaps you can tell me the number of her house and the street?"

"Yes, it is number 37 Bornheimer street."

"Good! I can direct you exactly how to go. You take the electric car which will pa.s.s here in a few minutes, and it will take you to the corner of the street not more than a few steps from number 37."

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" said Fritz much relieved. Paul and Franz touched their hats and thanked him, taking Fritz as an example in all things.

The car came, and the three, followed closely by Pixy, rushed to get aboard.

"You can't bring that dog on the car. It is against orders," called the motorman.

"What must I do?" asked Fritz despairingly.

"You must settle that matter between yourself and the dog. Perhaps he will follow the car if he sees you in it."

"Can I stand on the platform where he can see me?"

"No, it is against orders; but you can sit at the window at the end of the car, where he can see you."

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" and the three quickly boarded the car. Fritz took the place designated, and they were off, while Pixy, who believed that his master was deserting him, ran barking and howling in their track.

At every stoppage of the car, Pixy sprang up to the window, but Fritz knew better than to speak one comforting word, although his heart ached for his forlorn traveling companion who must walk--or rather run, and run fast to keep up with the rapidly moving car. At length Pixy learned the lesson of experience. As there was no chance for him at the back end of the car, he would try the front, so at the next stopping-place, he flew along the length of the car, sprang on the front platform and curled about the feet of the motorman.

"See here, boy, you must get out, and take your dog. It is against orders for a dog to be on the platform."

"We will go out, too," said Franz and Paul, jumping up to follow their leader.

"Give us back our money," said Fritz, holding out his hand, when they reached the street.

"No; it is against orders;" and the car sped away.

Pixy was delighted that the three boys were now on the same footing as himself, and proved it by springing up, putting his feet on his master's shoulders and licking his face; and the boy petted him to his heart's content. But Paul and Franz were not flattered in an equal measure with Fritz at Pixy's pleasure in their company as fellow-travelers, and expressed their opinion with clouded faces.

"Now this is the second time that we have paid out money and got but little good out of it because of the dog," grumbled Franz. "He got into a fight and your pants got torn, and we would, I think, have remembered the money if we had not been bothered about having to wait to get them mended. Then we had to come back and pay thirty cents to Peter and thirty to Letta; and afterward had to ride in a freight-car because of your dog."

"If you don't want Pixy with us, I will go back home to-morrow and take him," said Fritz with tears in his eyes. "It has been enough trouble to me that I brought him without first asking papa and mamma. It was a mean thing to do, but I thought it would be so nice to have him take the journey with us."

Franz and Paul were ashamed of their treatment of the one to whom they were indebted for the visit to Mrs. Steiner and Frankfort, and hastened to a.s.sure him that no matter what trouble happened through Pixy's fault they would make no word of complaint.

Pixy knew by the change of tone that peace had again spread its blessed wings over the "three-leaved clover," and to show his approbation he fawned upon all three with impartial effusiveness.

"I am sorry that I said that he had no sense like city dogs that were running quietly along-side of wagons, but must try to jump on the car whenever it stopped," said Paul penitently.

"Yes," replied Fritz, throwing his arm around Pixy's neck, "you were both glad when you saw that I was bringing him upon the journey, and now when he brings us into trouble we must not blame him for what he cannot help."

"No, it would not be right to blame him for loving us, and wanting to be with us," agreed Franz.