ed over his
explanation. "Yes--no. It did run away--Yes, it was stolen; I was there,
but I am going away."

"You were where?"

"At my Aunt Steiner's."

"Does she know that you are going away?"

"No, I did not tell her. Yes, I did in my letter."

"That is a beautiful story! Now I know that you are taking her dog away
without her knowledge."

"No; she knows it," howled Fritz.

"Yes, but all the world knows how cunning dog thieves are in Frankfort.
You come with me that we may learn the straight story of how you got
this dog."

"Oh, Mr. Policeman, do not take me to prison! I would die there."

"No, not to prison, but to the Widow Steiner's. There we will hear a
full account of Pixy."

"But I do not want to go there, because I have just run off from her
house and it shames me to go back."

"I believe that, but you need not be ashamed if you are telling the
truth."

"But, Mr. Policeman, I am only taking my own dog to my own home."

"Perhaps so. We will see what Mrs. Steiner says about it," and the tall
policeman set out for 37 Bornheimer street, followed by the weeping
Fritz, and a motley crowd of onlookers.

"He has been stealing tinware," commented one of them. "While he was
about it he might as well have taken silver or something worth while."

"Poor boy, he has not been trained right by his parents," remarked a
woman standing in the door of her bakery. "People who take no care of
their children but let them run the streets must expect arrests."

This remark was so trying to Fritz that he halted to set the woman right
in regard to his parents, but the policeman bade him hurry along, and
they soon reached 37, where the returned ones were still upon the porch.
Mrs. Steiner was weeping, and Mr. Heil and the boys were anxious,
believing that Fritz had lost his way in going to the depot and was
wandering about the streets.

"Look, brother!" exclaimed Mrs. Steiner, eagerly; "look at that crowd
coming up the street following a policeman. Among them is a black dog.
Yes, it is Fritz and Pixy, and with them a policeman! What can be the
matter now?"

Fritz had one arm over his eyes, trying to hide his tears but looked out
when his captor told him that they had reached his aunt's home and there
were people on the porch.

"Oh, it is father! dear, dear father!" exclaimed Fritz in delight, and
running up the steps he was clasped in the arms of his relieved parent.

But the boy's joy was no greater than that of