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 op their minds to do a thing it was almost as good as done—that is, if it were not too hard. This
