"But—but what is that noise?" asked the girl from the North, her mind filled with thoughts of tarantulas and centipedes.
"Huh? Nottin'. That? Jes' fleas—sand fleas. They hop, hop, hop. No mind them. You hongree—yes, huh? I go get you nice dinner—yes, huh?"
She departed, quite filling the stairway as she descended to the lower floor.
"My goodness!" thought Janice, with a sudden hysterical desire to laugh. "I should hate to have the house catch fire and wait my turn to go downstairs after Rosita!"
It took no conflagration to hasten her preparations for descent on this occasion. She met Marty at the foot of the staircase. The boy's face was actually pallid, and against this background his freckles seemed twice their usual size.
"What is it? What has happened?" demanded Janice, seizing his arm.
Marty drew her farther from the foot of the staircase to where she could see through a narrow doorway into the store.
"See there!" the boy hissed.
"See what? Oh, Marty! you frighten me."
"'Tain't nothin' to be frightened of," he assured her. "See that feller with the red vest?"