"See the hayseeds who come here and think they know it all! I will take
this hat and keep it until its owner tells me what I asked," and he
grasped Paul's hat, intending to run, but Paul was too quick for him,
for he lay hold of the boy's arm, and got his hat.

This was just what the rough street urchins wanted, and they gathered
about the three; pushed against Odysseus-Fritz, Achilles-Franz and
Patroclus-Paul, and as no policeman was near, they would have mastered
the three peaceable, well-bred boys, but at that moment Pixy, who had
been watching the game, sprang in the midst of the melee, grasped the
sleeve of one of the boys, snarling savagely, as if he were a terribly
dangerous dog, indeed. The frightened boy tore himself loose with such
force that he fell to the ground and Pixy, as though scorning to attack
a fallen enemy, grasped the seat of the pants of another boy, tore a
piece out, which released the boy, and he and the others ran as fast as
their feet would carry them from such a dangerous locality. Pixy
followed their hasty flight, barking vigorously, and would have made
another attack had not Fritz called him back. The three Grecian heroes
petted and praised him, and he wagged his tail for joy, and capered
about them as much as to say, "Didn't I make them fly!"

Yet prouder was his young master, and he could not help reminding his
comrades that he was not so foolish after all in bringing his dog to
Frankfort, to which they agreed, for they felt much relieved at the
scatterment of the rough and violent street urchins.

"But," continued Fritz, "it will be better for us to leave here, for
these rough boys may collect a larger company and come back and fight
us; and as brave as Pixy is, he might not be able to manage them all."