The princess, looking less dainty than when he first saw her, because of a coarse calico frock which the careful Mrs. Weber had put on, in the place of her more expensive garments, leaned forward in the old lady's arms, stretching out both tiny hands to Joe, as she twittered and chirped, after her own peculiar manner, what was evidently a greeting to the boy who had acted a guardian's part to the best of his ability. "She really knows me!" Joe cried, in an ecstasy of joy, forgetting for a moment his own sorrow, and, as the child nestled her face against his neck, he kissed the curly brown hair again and again. Mrs. Weber welcomed the princess's guardian in her own language, which was as unintelligible to Master Potter as the baby's cooing, and only served to arouse the amateur detective's suspicions. "What's that old woman sayin'?" Dan asked, sharply. "You don't want to try any funny games with me, 'cause I won't stand it." Joe did not hear the unkind words; his heart had been made so glad by the princess's joy at seeing him, that he would hardly have been conscious of the fact had the officers of the law come forward at that moment to make him a prisoner. Mrs. Weber, observing Dan for the first time, addressed him in a kindly tone, which only served to deepen the frown on the amateur detective's face. "I dunno what you're drivin' at, missis; but you won't pull wool over my eyes by jabberin' away in that lingo." It so chanced that Joe heard this remark, and, turning quickly towards the boy who, he believed, held him in his power, he said, sharply: "Now, don't make a bigger fool of yourself than you can help, Dan Fernald! Mrs. Weber can't talk our way, an' is only tryin' to treat you decent." "I'm keepin' my eyes open, all the same, cause I don't count on gettin' left the same as I was yesterday." Accepting the invitation given by gestures, Joe entered the house with the princess in his arms, and followed by the boy who considered himself his master. Now a serious difficulty presented itself. Mrs. Weber's grandson was not at home, and it would be necessary to dispense with the services of an interpreter. "I don't know how I'm going to fix it," Joe said, speaking half to himself, and Master Fernald believed he was addressed. "What is it you can't fix?" "I want to get back some of the money I paid Mrs. Weber; but how am I goin' to tell her I'll carry the princess away for good?" "She must know what you say, of course. Who ever heard of a woman what didn't understand how to talk?" "But she's a German, you know." "I can't help that. If you tell her right up an' down what you mean, she's bound to know it, 'less she's a dummy." There was little in the way of advice to be gained from the alleged detective, and Joe began a pantomime which he intended should convey the idea. He pointed to the princess's clothes, then out of the window; put on his hat, and, with the child in his arms, walked towards the door.