The German baker was anxious concerning his stock in trade, and while the boys continued to hold the horse he climbed into the wagon to look after his bread, and pastries.
"Chust vot I dink!" he groaned. "Dem nice cakes vos all cracked alretty! Now vot I got to do, tole me dot?"
"Cracked cakes?" queried Roger, with a grin.
"Yah. You see, I vos make some nice cakes for Mrs. Dill's barty. Da vos sphoiled and now I haf to make more."
"Don't throw them away," said Dave. "We'll eat a cracked cake any day."
"So? All right, my poys. You do me a favor to sthop mine horse, I vos gif you der cakes, yes," answered Mr. Zumm.
He was a liberal-hearted man and without delay brought out several large cakes, somewhat crushed and broken but still well worth eating. The sight of such good things set Dave to thinking.
"Fellows, I've got an idea!" he said. "Let's buy Mr. Zumm's cakes and pies and have a feast to-night!"
"Just the thing!" came from both Ben and Roger.
"I not sell you dem cakes," said the baker, when the matter was explained to him. "You vos goot poys, yes, and I like you. I gif you four pig cakes, mit der pastepoard poxes to carry dem in."