"How—how did it happen?" asked Chet innocently. "Was that a lobster you gave me, Andy?"
"Never mind what I gave you," howled the youth. "Help me get him off."
Now Chet was not a very wise youth, but he knew better than to pick off a lobster, especially when there was yet one large claw that wasn't working, but which was waving about seeking for something else to pinch.
"Can't you help me?" begged Andy. Frank had stopped to speak to an acquaintance, and did not see the plight of his brother.
"Oh! Oh, dear! What shall I do?" wailed Mabel. Several men and boys began to gather about the scene.
"I've got to get him loose or he'll pinch off my foot!" cried Andy. He reached over as well as he could, while standing on one foot, and tried to get hold of the lobster by the back, behind the vicious claws. But he made a miscalculation.
The next moment the other claw of the lobster had gripped him on the wrist, fortunately taking hold around Andy's coat sleeve so that the flesh was not cut by the "teeth" of the crustacean's pincher.
Andy was now in a peculiar predicament, for he was held in a stooping position with the lobster clinging to his ankle and wrist. He put on the ground the foot which had first been gripped and was vainly endeavoring to pull the lobster loose when Frank, attracted by the crowd, hurried up. He saw at once what the trouble was, and with one well-directed kick he sent the lobster spinning out into the middle of the street, the suddenness of the blow loosening the tight claws.
"Well, of all things! What happened, Andy?" Frank asked.
"Don't ask me. Come on home," replied his brother, limping away, while Miss Mabel smiled and turned aside. Chet Sedley grinned. It was the first and only time he had unwittingly gotten the better of Andy Racer.