The room was different from any that they had ever seen, not at all like theirs in their own homes.  It was not square, but had many nooks and corners which the light of one candle could not reach.  Paul said it was like a room he once read of, which had a secret door which led down to an underground passage where travelers were robbed and left there to find their way out if they could.  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.

This was a great comfort to the three and they prepared to disrobe for sleep.

“We have not much money to waste for lodging,” remarked Fritz, “and if we sleep in three beds we will have to pay for three; let us all sleep in one, and we will have to pay for but one.”

This was a great stroke of policy, and the others agreed heartily.  Although each bed was only intended for one grown person, the boys thought they could manage it.

“Let Paul sleep in the middle because he is the slimmest,” Fritz said.  “I will sleep back and Franz can sleep front.”

This met with approval and then Franz made a suggestion.

“Wise travelers always put their money under their pillows,” he said, “then a burglar cannot get it without waking them.  We will tie the three pocketbooks together, and put them under Paul’s head, then a robber would have to reach over Fritz or me to get it.”

This was considered an excellent scheme, and the three dropped into bed and in five minutes were asleep.

Pixy considered the situation for a minute, then sprang upon the foot of the bed, curled around and was soon in the land of dreams.

All went well until Fritz had a troubled dream.  He had fallen out of bed, had rolled under it, and thought he was in a trunk with the lid partly shut down and he could not get out, so set up a wailing cry.

“What is the matter in there?” called the landlord from outside the door.

“Oh, I don’t know where I am!” cried Fritz.

“Well, open the door and I will soon see.  Oh, it is locked.  Well, never mind.  I will come through the portiere way.”

He soon appeared with a light, and Fritz crept from under the bed and sat blinking beside it.

The three boys were astonished to see the landlord in their room without having to ask them to remove the barricade.  They did not know that the portiere hung before an open door leading into the hall as did the one they had taken so much trouble to make secure.

“Now, boys,” he said, laughing heartily, “have you lost your senses, or had you none to lose?  Now tell me, Fritz, why were you under the bed?”