em big. But they
certainly weren't as small as the footprints of an ant."

When they heard that, some of Rusty's friends looked relieved.

"We don't need to worry, anyhow," a number of them said to one another.

But there was one that was disappointed. That was Reddy Woodpecker.

"Why, the strangers--whoever they are--are too small for me to fight!"
he cried. "And here I've wasted all this time for nothing at all!" He
looked so angrily at Rusty Wren that Rusty felt very uneasy. He
certainly didn't want Reddy Woodpecker to fight him!

Luckily Reddy did not attack Rusty. But he went away grumbling. And
Rusty Wren couldn't help feeling a bit worried.

"Never mind what that rowdy says!" little Mr. Chippy advised Rusty
Wren--after the quarrelsome Reddy Woodpecker had gone away. "I'm glad
you told me about those strange tracks. I live near-by, in the wild
grapevine on the stone wall; and I shall watch for more tracks--and
those that make them, too."

"Let me know when you learn anything new!" said Rusty Wren. And Mr.
Chippy said that nothing would please him more than to do just that.

Well, the very next day Mr. Chippy's son, Chippy, Jr., knocked at Rusty
Wren's door (which was right beneath Farmer Green's chamber window) and
told Rusty that he was wanted by the roadside at once.

So Rusty flew straight to the stone wall, where he found little Mr.
Chippy all aflutter. Mr. Chippy dropped quickly into the road, pointing
to some tiny marks in the dust.

"Are those like the tracks you saw?" he asked.

"Yes--the very same!" cried Rusty Wren. "And now you can see for
yourself that there must have been a crowd."

To his surprise Mr. Chippy shook his head.

"There was only one person----" he said--"one person with eight legs!"

"Why do you think that?" Rusty Wren asked him doubtfully.

"I don't think it. I _know_ it!" Mr. Chippy replied. "I've seen the
person six times to-day with my own eyes."

"What does he look like?" Rusty Wren inquired.

"Like nobody else I ever saw!" Mr. Chippy exclaimed. "His legs are long
and thin; and his body is very small. And though his mouth makes me
think of a pair of pincers, he seems quite friendly and harmless."

"What's his name?" asked Busty Wren.

"I don't know," said Mr. Chippy. "But there's only one name that fits
him. I've already called him by it. And he seemed to like it, too."

"What's that?" Rusty persisted.

"Daddy Longlegs!" said little Mr. Chippy.

II