"My feet are burned with that boiling hot molasses."
Sure enough. A stream of molasses had found its way to Dick's shoeless feet.
"Open the windows, and let out this horrid smoke," cried Tom.
It was soon done, and the cold air came rushing in. The smoke began to clear; but a terrific roaring was heard in the chimney.
"Boys, I do believe the chimney is on fire," said Fred, in a hoarse whisper.
It was too true. The boys ran wildly about the room, picking up chairs and anything they could lay hold of to put the fire out with, and then discarding them as useless.
Just then the door opened, and Edward Fleming, the eldest of the ten, said, sternly, "Boys, what does all this mean?"
There was no need of answer. He comprehended the case at once. "Shut the door and windows," he cried. Then seizing a loose piece of carpet from the floor, he threw it upon the flames, and the danger was over in a moment.
The boys expected a first-class scolding after this, but they were agreeably surprised. Edward solemnly told the Stanleys that their aunt Sue had sent for them, and the boys slunk away to bed. But they spent all their play-time for the next week in cleaning up Tom's room and their own clothes, and in getting things to rights again.
"I never knew before how much trouble it is to make cake," said Bob. "It must be pretty hard on Aunt Sue and the girls to bake so much for us."