“Listen,” said Fritz.  “We need not always carry our own weapons upon the journey, we can exchange when we feel like it.”

Paul agreed heartily to this, but Franz was silent; he did not wish any one to have a share in his new possession.

“I know what I can do,” exclaimed Fritz.  “Just wait a minute,” and he ran home, returning with a leather belt and a cord, and soon his knife was hanging by his side.

“Why can’t I wear my pistol in my belt like the men do in pictures?” questioned Paul.  “I will run home and get mine.”

This was brought, and the three warriors were equipped to their hearty satisfaction, for they had already provided their straw hats with plumes from the cast-off tail feathers of roosters in their respective poultry yards.

They decided to have beside other needed things in each knapsack a drinking cup that they might slake their thirst along the way from cool springs, or clear running water, or a convenient well or pump.

Franz had a silver watch which all agreed would be very useful.  Paul had a box of tapers which he considered equal to a wonder-lamp in a fairy tale, and Fritz had a small compass, so correct in its bearings that if they trusted to it there was not the least danger of losing their way.

“Oh,” he continued jubilantly, “let us run and get our knapsacks and hang them across our shoulders and go to the photographer and ask what he will charge to take our pictures.”

“Agreed!” cried the others gleefully, and they were about to go when they heard the sound of hearty laughter, and turning, they saw the father of Franz.

“Wait, boys,” he said, “there is danger of being arrested on the way.  Don’t you know that it is against the law to carry weapons?”

“But, father, people do carry them.”

“Yes, but they take good care to keep them hidden.”

“We could keep ours hidden.”

“But where?  Could Paul hide his pistol in his hat, and could Franz put the cutlass in his vest pocket as if it were a tooth-pick?  Oh no, boys, lay aside the old weapons and travel along the public road as peaceable citizens with no thought of being harmed or of harming anyone.  The roads of our beloved Fatherland are not infested with bandits and footpads, and you can go with contented minds and with no fear of danger upon your travels.  Now it is time to part; good-night, boys.  Go home to a good supper and a good sleep.  Come, Franz.”

The next day came the selecting of things that were to go in the knapsacks and each boy had collected enough of what they considered really needed to fill them to overflowing.

“What is this?” asked the mother of Franz, who was about to help him with his knapsack, as they were to take an early start the next morning.

“It is my checker-board.  We can play in the evenings before we go to bed.”

“Oh, you cannot take it! see, it would take up half the room in the knapsack.  You will be so tired in the evenings that you will be ready to drop asleep before you take off your shoes.  Where are your stockings?”