months, and wondered if there had been many changes
during his absence. He hurried along, for he wished to stop on his way
to the depot and get a present for his little sister.

He knew that she wished a canary-bird, and went into a store to see how
much one would cost. To his surprise and delight, he found that he could
buy a singer and a cage for two marks, and he purchased both.

"Is there no one else that you would take a present to?" asked the
shop-keeper.

"Yes, I would like to take a present to my baby brother, and something
to my mother."

"What would you like?"

"A tin trumpet to my brother, but I don't know what my mother would
like."

"There is a nice trumpet, and here is a tin grater. I think she would
like it."

"Yes, and I will take it, if it and the trumpet do not cost too much. I
must have enough money left for my journey home."

It was found by counting that he would have enough without disturbing
his beloved gold-piece, and the shop-keeper strapped the three articles
on his back, drawing the grater around to his side, and the happy Fritz
set out for the depot, when a street urchin slipped up behind him and
blew a shrill blast upon the trumpet. Fritz turned quickly and at that
moment he heard a call, "Pixy! Pixy!" and the dog turned joyously and
looked back at a tall policeman who laid his hand upon the shoulder of
Fritz.

"How did you come by this dog?" he enquired, sternly.

"It belonged to my father and he gave it to me. He has no tag or muzzle
because I am only visiting in Frankfort."

"I am not asking about muzzle or tag, but wish to know if the dog's name
is Pixy."

"Yes, his name is Pixy."

"Now listen. A black dog of that name was stolen yesterday; and the
lady from whom it was stolen not only put the case in the hands of the
police, but put an advertisement in the paper, giving an exact
description of the dog."

"Yes, this is the dog," assured Fritz. "He first ran away, then was
stolen by a man."

"And the man gave him to you to take away. Is that it?"

"No. Franz and Paul and I had a hard fight to get him; and I am taking
him to the depot to go to Odenwald."

"What is you name?"

"Fritz Heil."

"And that of your father?"

"His name is also Fritz."

"So you say that the dog belongs to Fritz Heil, yet it was the Widow
Steiner who put the case in the hands of the police. How does that story
agree with yours?"

Fritz was so bewildered and frightened that he stammer