He had discarded his clown suit and had walked out into the open air, when a shrill young voice called his name:
“Johnny, Johnny Thompson.”
Whirling about, he found himself facing the millionaire twins. They were riding astride their ponies, and were dressed as if ready for their turn in the ring.
“Wha—where’d you come from, and who let you in?” he gasped.
“We came from our grandfather’s to join the circus,” piped Marjory.
“Yes, and to think,” Margaret fairly wailed, “we got here too late for the parade!”
Johnny looked at them for a moment, then laughed a good natured laugh.
“Got let down, didn’t you?” he smiled. “Well, so did I a minute ago, mighty sudden, too. But perhaps we can get you into a part yet, since this is positively your first and last appearance.”
“Oh, no, Johnny,” exclaimed Marjory, “not the last! We’ve come to stay as long as you do.”
“Then I don’t stay long,” laughed Johnny. “Circus is no place for millionaire twins. You wait right here. I’ll be back.”