For a while they sat quietly, watching the people come in to buy tickets
or get off trains. The agent did not pay much attention to them, being
very busy, for it was toward the close of day when the rush was like the
morning, greater than at other times.
"Say! What's that?" suddenly asked Flossie, holding up her chubby hand to
tell Freddie to stop whistling, which he was trying to do.
"What's what?" he asked, looking at his sister.
"I hear music," went on Flossie.
"So do I!" exclaimed Freddie.
They both listened, and from somewhere outside they heard the sound again.
"It's a hand organ!" cried Flossie.
"No, it's a hand _piano!_" said Freddie. "Hear how jiggily the tune is."
"Well, it's the same thing," Flossie insisted, "I wonder if there's a
monkey with it."
"Let's go downstairs and see," proposed Freddie.
Once Flossie or Freddie made up their minds to do a thing it was almost as
good as done--that is, if it were not too hard. This time It seemed easy
to do. They looked toward the little office in which the ticket seller had
shut himself. He was busy selling tickets.
"He'll not see us," whispered Freddie. "Besides, we're coming right back
as soon as we see the monkey."
"And we'll give him some peanuts," added Flossie. "You can buy some with
your five cents, Freddie. And we won't give them _all_ to the monkey. I
want some."
"So do I. Come on, we'll go down."
The agent seemed to have forgotten them.
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