They adjusted themselves again on the great cask, and Cleo proceeded to narrate the details of her recent letter from their chum, Madaline.
"Her folks are going to travel this summer so we can't have our little roly-poly Madaline with us," she explained. "Of course, we shall miss her, but we are going to have Mary. Her rich relations are coming down to the Colonade."
"To that immense gold-and-white hotel over there!" exclaimed Grace. "Then we shall have wonderful times visiting her. And we can see all the dances and masquerades—I suppose they have a very gay season at a hotel like that."
"I saw a circular announcing the opening on the fifteenth," said Louise. "Perhaps Mary will be down then and we may be invited."
"I smell fire," interrupted Cleo, "and there isn't a streak of smoke in sight. Wonder where it can be?"
"I am sure that is fire somewhere," declared Grace. "Where can it be!" and she too sniffed the odor of smoke.
"Oh my!" exclaimed Louise, jumping up and dragging her chums with her. "We are on fire! See, it is in the barrel!"
"And my skirt is burned!" declared Grace. "Just see!" exhibiting a singed hole in her blue serge skirt.
"However did a fire start in there?" questioned Cleo. "Let's see."
But there was no need of investigation, for scarcely had they jumped from their places when a sheet of flame shot out from the open end of the otherwise innocent looking cask.