"Now, just sit right down here and be comfortable," the agent said to the Bobbsey twins. "You'll be all right, and your folks will soon come for you. I have to sit in the office and sell tickets."
The kind woman called a good-bye to the children and went away; so Flossie and Freddie were left by themselves in the elevated railroad station at One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street.
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."