As soon as he had caught her!
They were on Broadway, which was lined with people, moving to and fro. Horace and Dotty had to push their way through the crowd, while little Fly seemed to float like a creature of air.
"Stop, Fly! Stop, Fly!" cried Horace; but that only added speed to her wings.
"She's like a piece of thistle-down," laughed Horace; "when you get near her you blow her away."
"Stop, O, stop," cried Dotty; "Horace was only in fun. Don't run away from us, Fly."
But by this time the child was so far off that the words were lost in the din.
"Why, where is she? I don't see her," exclaimed Horace, as the little blue figure suddenly vanished, like a puff of smoke. "Did she cross the street?"
"I don't know, Horace. O, dear, I don't know."
It was the first time a fear had entered either of their minds. Knowing very little of the danger of large cities, they had not dreamed that the foolish little Fly might get caught in some dreadful spider's web.