“This one hasn’t, that’s certain,” said Nelson. “If he doesn’t look out he’ll— There he goes, plump into that spider-web. Why, any one could have seen it! Look at him! Tom, you’re an awful fool!”
“Huh?” said Tom in surprise.
“I was addressing your namesake,” explained Nelson.
The namesake was blundering deeper and deeper into the tiny web, reminding the watchers of a man walking through a series of hotbeds as depicted in a comic paper. Finally, by sheer weight, the beetle came out on the other side with a large part of the web trailing behind him, and a very small spider, looking like the head of a black pin, emerged from her hiding-place and began to run excitedly over the scene of her former habitation.
“Don’t blame her,” grunted Tom. “Things are certainly torn up.”
The beetle, doubling in his tracks, progressed without further misadventure for almost a foot. Then he stopped, dug his head into the earth, and waved his legs vexatiously.
“Oh, he’s plumb crazy!” laughed Nelson.
“I guess he dropped something and is looking for it,” said Tom. “Perhaps it’s his watch. Or maybe——”
Tom’s further surmises were rudely interrupted. Up the hill floated a most unmelodious shout. Nelson sat up as though he had touched a live wire.