“Oh, no!”
Barnabetta was not convinced, that was plain. But she turned in a matter-of-fact way to the man. “Well, Pop,” she said coolly, “about that money.” The man jumped, and his weak eyes opened wide. But Barnabetta kept right on and Agnes was sure she was winking at her father. “You must disbelieve me when I say I saw it, and I’m goin’ to say we’ll get it,” she declared.
“Huh?” gasped the clown.
“That’s the way it must be in our act,” the girl said firmly. “In our act—don’t you see?”
“Oh! Ha! Hum!” said the clown, clearing his throat. “I see.”
“This is second-story work,” the girl explained eagerly. “I’ll show you how to climb up to the window for the money—that’s to the trapeze, you see,” she added, throwing the explanation at Agnes.
“Oh! I see,” murmured the Corner House girl.
“And you play the joey part, Pop,” pursued Barnabetta. “I’ll go ahead, and say ‘Hist!’ and ‘Take care!’ and ‘Clumsy!’ and the like, making believe we’re going to rob a house. You do the joey, as I said, and climb almost up to the trapeze on the rope, and then make a fall. We’ve got to get the laughs,” she added again, glancing sidewise at Agnes.
The latter felt very peculiar indeed. Bluntly honest, it was hard for Agnes to play a part in this way. She knew the girl trapeze performer was trying to lead her astray. Barnabetta and her father were talking of Neale and his money before Agnes appeared, and this tale about the new act was being invented on the spur of the moment to confuse her.
Barnabetta stopped suddenly. Perhaps she saw that her tale was making little impression upon their visitor.