“Read it, my boy.  Of course it is from another swindler,” and Fritz read: 

“To No. 37 Bornheimer street: 

“I have found your dog, and will bring it to you if you will tell me through the paper how much the reward is.

“H.Y.R.”

“Will bring us Pixy, and Pixy sitting by looking at us!  Well, well, I would never have believed it!  But just see, it wants ten minutes of our dinner hour.  Franz, do you and Paul wash your hands and set the table, and Fritz can help clear off when we have finished.”

“But Aunt Fanny!” exclaimed the astonished Fritz, “when did you cook dinner?”

“I did not cook any, yet we will have it, and a good one, and all we have to do is to set the table, and as quickly as possible.”

This was a mystery which the boys could not unravel, yet they hurried to wash and dry their hands, the cloth was spread neatly, napkins put to the places, and the dishes on, when a trim-looking girl came in carrying a long basket in which was a bucket of lentil soup, a roast of veal with vegetables and a plate of fine summer pears.

She nodded pleasantly to all, put the dinner quickly and deftly upon the table, set the basket on a chair, and with a smile and a nod went out and down the steps.

“Well, I never!” ejaculated Fritz.  “How did you get this dinner cooked, Aunt Fanny?”

“Very easily.  All I had to do was to leave an order at a cook shop, and you see the result.  Yes, little Fritz, as I said in regard to the carriage, in a large city one can get the comforts and luxuries of life if he has the money.  Without that, many doors and also hearts have to remain closed.  I ordered a dinner to-day because it is a change for me as well as for you, for it is very seldom I have a meal except as I prepare it myself.  Now let us eat our dinner.”

They took their seats, the blessing was asked as usual, and Mrs. Steiner carved the roast, giving generous pieces to the hungry boys.

The soup was all that could be desired, as was each dish of the prepared meal, and they sat at the table after they finished until the girl came for her basket and bucket and departed, and Fritz was helping take the dishes to the kitchen, when the door bell rang.

“Now I wonder if that is another policeman?” ejaculated Aunt Steiner, as she went to the door and opened it.

There stood a stout young man with a cigarette between his teeth, who set one of his feet within the room, so that she could not have closed the door had she tried.  He was leading a black dog by a rope—­which squeezed past him into the room—­and he did not appear to think it necessary to remove his cap, as he said with a foreign accent:  “Dog lost—­I got him, yes, I brought him.”

The dog was black, but much larger than Pixy, was shaggy and unkempt, and had a cross and savage look, very different from the well-kept and gentle Pixy.

“We have found our dog,” replied Mrs. Steiner.  “I am sorry that you went to the trouble of bringing one.”