"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.




CHAPTER V.

DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY.


Yes, Fly was out of sight; that was certain. Whether she had turned to
the right, or to the left, or had merely gone straight on, fallen down,
and been trampled on, that was the question. How was one to find out?
People enough to inquire of, but nobody to answer.