“Your story is very good, but what help will it be in this case?” enquired the logical Franz.  “Do you think the Trojans will be so obliging as to walk here and put their feet in the tracks?”

“Then name a better way.”

“I don’t know any.”

“Then the only way left,” remarked the reflective Paul, “is to watch the faces of the suspects when we go to school in the morning, and maybe we can spot the ones who did it.”

As there seemed nothing more to do about it, they left the rifled armory and went to their homes.

The next morning as they neared the schoolyard they heard loud laughing which they could not lay altogether to the near approach of the holiday.  They hurried in, and were quickly surrounded by their schoolmates who with laughter and jeers pointed to the top of the climbing pole; and oh, misery! there hung the helmet of Achilles, its plume waving in the morning air.  Speechless and helpless the three friends stood, and would have given the last penny in their savings banks if a hawk or some other large bird would swoop down upon it and send it to the ground.

“Now here is an exercise in physical culture,” cried one of the Trojans, in the tone and manner of the professor in that line of instruction.  “One of our Grecian heroes will kindly ascend and bring the helmet down.”

This called for peals of laughter and shrill whistles from the Trojans, for they knew that no one of the Grecians could climb to the top and it was a delight to see them redden with shame.  But the restless Fritz was not willing to give up without trying to scale the giddy height.

“Here, Franz,” he cried, “hold my books.  Paul, here is my jacket and hat.  Stand back, boys, and see if I am the coward they think me,” and soon his legs and arms were in motion.  The laughter and jeering of the Trojans stimulated him to his greatest effort, and he had almost reached the top when his efforts ceased.

“He is only resting,” cried Franz and Paul anxiously.

“No, his strength has given out and you will see him coming down in a moment,” said one of the Trojans.

Hearing this, Fritz made one last effort, and holding on to the pole with one arm, he reached up for the helmet, but it was farther off than he thought.  His strength had given out, and he slid rapidly down and dropped in a heap, pale and weak from over-exertion, and for a moment unable to rise.

The shouts and laughter of the Trojans impelled the three to flee to the schoolroom for refuge, but their arms were held by the enemy and they were led to a linden tree in the school yard and bidden to look up.  There amid the branches lay the three lances and the bows and arrows.  The tumult of laughter and shouting was now beyond all bounds, and at that moment the principal of the school made his appearance and was soon in the midst of the wild, surging crowd.

“Who put that gilt paper cap on the point of the climbing pole?” he asked.