“He’s having breakfast all by his lonesome over on the island,” said Ferd, and Tubby groaned at the word “breakfast,” while Dave added:
“We–we got a dreadfully early start this morning.”
“Quite a start–I should say,” returned Wyn, smiling broadly. “And now you’re hungry, I suppose?”
“Oh, aren’t we, just?” cried one of the crowd, hollowly.
“How about it, Bess? Is there enough for so many more?”
Bess was already sifting flour for more biscuit. She said: “I’ll have another panful in a jiffy. Put in the eggs, Mina. We can make a beginning.”
“There’s plenty of mush,” said Mina. “That’s one sure thing.”
“But we can’t all sit down,” cried Grace.
“You know, there are but six of these folding seats, and Wyn’s been sitting on a cracker box ever since we set up the tents.”
“Feed ’em where they’re sitting,” said Wyn, quickly. “Beggars mustn’t be choosers.”