"What's that!" a queer, muffled voice.
Mary Frances started in surprise.
A great com-mo-tion inside the pantry, and the sound of many little voices! Then she made out the words:
"Get out of my way! Here, you, step aside!" (Then a little shriek or two followed by the sound of falling tins.) "Oh, you knocked my nose. There! that makes the fiftieth dent! No wonder I look old and worn out. Can't you wait a minute?"
At length there came a pounding on the door, and a high little voice—or was it two voices?
"Let me out! Oh, I say, please let us out!"
"Mercy!" thought Mary Frances, "I hope there isn't going to be any trouble." And she cautiously opened the pantry door a little way. The two Cake Tins pushed their way out.
