After considerable time they all managed to quiet down enough to talk sense.
"The girls want us to make a fire, fellows," said Frank. "The idea looks good to me."
"It is good," Allen agreed. "Give us the wood and matches, and we will have a fire going in no time."
"The wood is in the fire-place," Betty answered, "and Mollie has the matches, I think."
With this the boys set to work energetically, while the girls and Mrs. Irving stood about them in a semi-circle.
"It's so different from building a fire in the open," Amy commented. "I always love them. Can't we toast marshmallows? That's the most fun of all."
"We could if we had any," Grace replied dryly. "I have some chocolates but you can't roast them, and nobody had the sense to think to buy marshmallows to-day."
At this last remark, Frank sat back upon his heels and favored Mollie with a sly wink--while that young lady smiled mysteriously.
"Thereby hangs a tale of which you shall hear later," he said, and, in spite of all their urging, he could not be made to say another word.
However, their curiosity was forgotten a moment later--forgotten in the excitement caused by a strange and curious happening.
Suddenly the smoke which had been rolling in clouds up the chimney, refused to roll farther. There being no other exit except into the room, the girls and boys suddenly found themselves suffocating. They choked, and the boys stumbled to their feet and followed the fleeing girls into the dining room.
There was a chorus of sneezes and smothered cries of "I'm choking! Open the window, some one, quick!"
"The windows are open and the doors, too," gasped Frank, in answer to this last request.
"Don't be alarmed, any one," Allen commanded. "It's nothing but a clogged-up chimney, and that won't hurt anybody."
"But the smoke!" gasped Mollie. "Why, the house will be ruined. What will Aunt Elvira say?"
"Oh, it won't hurt anything," said Betty, making a brave attempt to push her way through the smoke into the living room. "But it is terrible. Can't we do something to stop it, boys?"
"I don't know how we can--unless----" Roy turned quickly to Mollie. "Did your aunt say anything about a blower?" he asked eagerly.
"I don't remember--I--I don't remember," stammered poor Mollie, whose memory was being taxed to the utmost. "You might look though, and see what you can find."