I THE SACRED BEETLE 23 



the sleeper rouses up. The crafty partner decamps 

 with the ball, dragging it behind him with the haste 

 of a thief fearing to be caught in the act. This 

 abuse of trust rouses my ire, but I let it pass in the 

 interest of the story — time enough to interfere on 

 behalf of morality if the upshot threaten to turn 

 out ill. 



Already the thief is some yards away. The 

 robbed beetle comes up from his hole, looks, and 

 finds nothing. No doubt he has himself had a hand 

 in like proceedings. Scent and sight soon put him on 

 the track and he hurriedly comes up with the robber, 

 whereupon this sly dog promptly changes his position, 

 gets on his hind legs and clasps the ball with his 

 toothed arms as he does when acting helper. Ah, 

 you rascal ! I see through you ! you would excuse 

 yourself by declaring that the ball rolled down the 

 slope, and that you are trying to stop it and take it 

 home. I, however, who am an impartial witness, 

 assert that the ball, being well balanced at the mouth 

 of the hole, did not move of its own accord. Besides, 

 the ground is level. I affirm that I saw you set it 

 in motion and make off with unequivocal intentions. 

 It was an attempt at larceny or I know nothing 

 about it. My evidence not being taken into con- 

 sideration, the owner listens mildly to his companion's 

 excuses, and the two roll the ball back as if nothing 

 had happened. 



But if the thief can get far enough away, or can 

 conceal his track by adroitly doubling back, the loss 

 is irreparable. To have collected provisions under 

 a fiery sun, to have conveyed them a weary way, to 

 have hollowed out a comfortable banqueting hall in 



