"Get tools," he commanded tersely. "You can't stand around here like drones. I have valuable equipment in there. It must be saved."
He attacked the shell with furious strokes of the pick. After a moment, Marlin joined his efforts with the crowbar.
There was no room for the others to participate, even if they had felt inclined to help. They stood watching curiously as Marlin and Eli broke through the crust. This was the easiest part of the undertaking. From a depth of two or three inches below the surface, the substance was a sticky, rubbery mass, which inexorably flowed back to fill the gap made by each blow of pick or crowbar.
"You ain't gettin' nowhere," volunteered Link, peering through his hair.
Eli paused long enough to glare at him. "What would you suggest?" he demanded, then scathingly added, "Loafer!"
"If you had something you could push through. A pipe—or—or something."
The scientist dropped his pick.
"Is it out of the mouths of fools and nit-wits I must get ideas!" he exploded. "Come!"
The rest following, he picked his way over scaffolding, rocks, and heaps of construction material. He stopped, frowningly studying a section of drain pipe some two feet across and five feet long.
"We will try this," he decided.