“And you let us suffer with cold and eat a coffeeless supper?” rebuked Nora Wingate.
“You lived through it. Why kick, now that you are about to have a warm drink?”
“We ought to throw you off the mountain,” declared Grace.
“Don’t do it till he gets the coffee ready,” urged Stacy.
“The reason that I did not use the alcohol kit last night was that I had only enough alcohol to burn the stove for one meal,” explained Hippy. “I knew that you would be in more urgent need of coffee in the morning than you were last night.”
“I withdraw my suggestion that we throw you over,” laughed Grace.
“Are you ready?” called Lieutenant Wingate. “The coffee is.”
“Are we ready? Just watch us,” cried Emma Dean.
Each had an individual cup, and Hippy passed lumps of sugar to them from his own kit. They had no milk, but there was no complaint, for the Overlanders were glad enough to get the coffee black. This, with some biscuit and cold venison, comprised the meal, but they declared unanimously that they had never had a more appetizing breakfast.
“I have decided,” announced Stacy finally, “not to be a party to the plan to throw Uncle Hip overboard—at least not to-day. Good-morning, Sun! Welcome to our happy home,” he added, bowing to the rising sun.