"But she's still whole," said Steve from between blue lips. "And the storm's going down. If she isn't sprung too much, and we could only get her off of there—"
"Getting her off," said Joe with a pessimism born of hunger and cold and the gloom of the early morning, "will be about as easy as moving a house with a toothpick. I dare say the sand's bedded around her two feet high."
"I'm afraid so," Steve agreed. "Well, let's have something to eat. Will you have steak or chicken, Joe?"
"Broiled ham and a baked potato, please, and a couple of eggs. Not more than two minutes for the eggs. And you might bring me a couple of hot biscuits—"
"Oh, shut up," begged Steve miserably.
"Well, you started it! Who's awake here?"
"I am," muttered Perry. "Seems to me I haven't been anything but awake for ten years."
"Well, want to order your breakfast now, or will you wait?" asked Joe cheerfully.
"Guess I'll wait," answered Perry grimly. "Where are those crackers?"
They got Ossie awake with difficulty and Steve doled out six crackers to each. The tin cup came in handy, for there was a pool of rain water in a ledge below them.