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He was vaguely conscious of an unwarranted satisfaction in the nearness of this pixy. Her preference for his society flattered his vanity. He observed her guardedly from the corner of his eye. Undoubtedly she was a very naughty little girl who told wrong stories and was painfully lacking in reverence.
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?"
"Oh, if my Pixy falls in good hands until I can find him," said Fritz. "I must tell you, boys," continued the gentleman, "that in Frankfort, as in other cities, there are people who will steal dogs in order to get a reward. But your dog may only be lost, and the best way will be to put a notice in the morning paper. Then if he is at the asylum, they will let you know."
"The boy is certainly right there." "I am sorry that you stood and held him while we were in the buildings and you had to run and jump when I called 'Pixy! If he had not come he would have been disobedient or stupid; and my father will tell you that he is neither disobedient nor stupid. You will not have to hold his cord again."
It is for you, and written by Fritz," said Paul. "By Fritz!" laughed Aunt Fanny, "gone out for a walk and left a letter for me! Read it, Paul." The boy opened the missive and read, each sentence meeting with comments from his interested listeners. "Dear Aunt Fanny: Pixy was not to blame for the dog fight; and the time he ran into the Council House he was not to blame, because I called 'Pixy!
"First give me my money," said their guide, holding out his hand; the money was given, and the three and Pixy ran up the long steps, Fritz saying as he ran, "Come on, boys, we have found Aunt Steiner and she is glad to see us." "Did you write that you were coming to-day, dear?" asked his aunt when all hands were seated and the boys had laid aside their knapsacks. "No, aunt.
Well, if she has got it for us, she is an angel indeed," said Vera. "It is a big one," said Thekla, "but the pony is a dear little thing; Pixy is his name, and I can ride him! Do come, Flapsy, and see! Earwaker will show you. It is he that does the oiling of Pixy and harnessing the bicycle. I mean " "Tick, Tick, which does he oil and which does he harness?" said Paula.
This blood-curdling narrative filled the hearers' minds with fears of what might happen, and they resolved to barricade the door. They locked it, and then pushed the washstand and chairs against it. "A robber could not push these things away without waking us," remarked Paul. "No, and before he could get in, Pixy would be ready to fly at him," said Fritz proudly.
Steiner sank upon the sofa, pale and nervous; Fritz sat by her shedding tears of regret that he had brought his dog to Frankfort; and Pixy crept out from his covert and tried to comfort them. "I feel nervous and exhausted over the dog fight, and the rudeness of that man," said Mrs. Steiner, "and will lie down upon the sofa and rest awhile.
Paul's finger was pointing to a black dog, with head and tail depressed from hunger and weariness, but Fritz knew his dog. "Pixy! Pixy!" he cried joyously, and the three boys ran toward him and the stout well-grown boy who was leading him. As if electrified Pixy raised his head, and barked from joy as he struggled to break away from the rough hand that held him.
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