“What can we do?” they asked Mrs. Steiner.

“The first thing is to run to the station-house and tell the police.  They have found the thief and may find the dog.”

“Oh, Fritz, have you really got your gold-piece?” they asked in a breath.

“Yes, and my pocketbook, but they are no pleasure to me now that I have lost Pixy, and I am the only one to blame.  If I had left him at home, instead of bringing him to Frankfort without papa’s knowing it, this would not have happened,” and again he wept and the others could offer no comfort.

“If I don’t find Pixy, I will not go home,” he sobbed; “Papa and mamma and little sister love him so, and even our servant girl will grieve if Pixy never comes back.”

“Let us not lose time in grieving,” said his aunt, putting her hand upon his shoulder, “but let us do what we can to find him.”

“Yes, we will go,” said Fritz, “for the longer we wait, the further away he will be,” and he ran out, followed by his comrades.

The first person they met was a carpenter with his tools upon his shoulder.

“Have you seen my dog, my Pixy?” asked Fritz as the three halted and looked up in his face.  “A beautiful, black dog with curly hair on his neck and shoulders?”

“No, I have seen no black dog,” and the boys ran along again, asking every one they met.

“You are only asking me to plague me,” said a cross old woman, not heeding the tearful eyes of Fritz.  “The street boys are getting more tormenting all the time.”

At length a kind-hearted woman told them that she had seen a black dog on the next street, and they ran in breathless haste to see it, but alas! it was not Pixy, for while resembling him, it did not recognize the name of Pixy, nor the voice of Fritz calling it.

“This is my dog, boys!  What do you mean by trying to toll him away?” exclaimed a gentleman, coming to the door of a store; but when Fritz explained that he had lost his dog, the gentleman believed him and became a sympathizing friend.

“I will give you the advice to go to the animal asylum,” he said.  “Stray dogs and other animals are taken there and good care given them until the owners claim them.”

“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.”

At that moment a well-known voice said, “Good day, doctor, what important business have you with my young friends?”

It was Uncle Braun who spoke, and the boys were so delighted to see him that half their trouble seemed to be gone.

“Don’t be so distressed, Fritz,” he said.  “I will put a notice in the paper saying that a black dog answering to the name of Pixy has strayed away, and will promise a reward to anyone who will bring him to 37 Bornheimer street.  Now run home, boys, and do not keep Mrs. Steiner anxious about you.”