“Certainly!  There are many people in Frankfort who buy and wear them.  If you are surprised at the price of the earrings, I am sure that you would be more astonished did we know the price of the diamond necklace.”

“Uncle Braun, do you suppose that it was this jewelry store that was robbed a few weeks ago?” asked Fritz.  “I saw an account of it in a Frankfort paper.”

“I cannot say.  There are many jewelry stores here, also many thieves.”

“Oh,” cried the boy, at the remembrance of his own loss, “my new, bright gold-piece—­”

“With the likeness of Kaiser Frederick upon it!” completed Franz.  “You see we can repeat that wail all right.”

“Don’t tease him, Franz, my boy,” remarked Uncle Braun in a kind, yet rebuking tone.  “You have not as yet had the opportunity to show us how you would act if all your money was stolen.  Fritz has nothing to be ashamed of that he was deceived by the smooth-tongued stranger.  I will tell you what happened to a baker, a middle-aged man, who has lived in Frankfort all his life.  He was sitting in his bakery one day when he heard the footsteps of a man going up the steps of his house, which had two front doors, one leading into the bakery and the other up the stairway to the bedrooms.

“He went to the door and looked up and there was a man who appeared to be going up, but was in reality coming down backwards.  He halted when he heard the sound at the door.

“He had a large bundle tied up in a compact roll, consisting of bed, pillows and bed clothing and did not appear to be in the least haste.

“‘What are you doing there?’ called the baker.

“‘Isn’t this the pawn-broker’s shop?’ asked the stranger.

“’No, that is on the next square.  You go to the corner and turn to the right, and there you are.’

“‘Thank you!’

“The baker returned to his bakery and the man went out and down the street.  When night came and the family went to retire there was no bed or bed-clothing in the baker’s room.  The clever thief had made off with them.”

Fritz seemed somewhat comforted to hear that he was not the only one who had been outwitted.

Farther on the boys took keen interest in a bicycle race.

“Oh, look at them!” Fritz exclaimed.  “A whole regiment of them!  How can the dealer sell so many?”

“He must sell a great many more than you see there in order to pay the rent of his store.”

“Yes,” agreed Fritz, knowingly, “the rents are high with us, too; there is one man in our village who pays one hundred and eighty marks for the rent of his store.”

“That is quite a sum of money, my boy,” smiled Uncle Braun, “but look at this small store we are passing.  I happen to know that the rent of it is ten times your one hundred and eighty marks.”

“Is that possible?  Then if he got but a mark for each pair of shoes, he would have to sell eighteen hundred pairs in a year to make the rent.”