Wallie watched him wonderingly:
"Tell you what I think of it!" Pinkey declared, returning. "I ain't got words—they ain't none in the dictionary. My Gawd! what is it made of?"
"Just biscuit crumbs and onions," said Wallie, colouring.
"Where did you keep 'em?"
Wallie pointed to the box on the floor in the corner.
Pinkey made a hideous grimace.
"Gimme a drink of water! Gimme a chew of tobacco! Gimme anything to take the taste of mouse out'n my mouth. Wallie," solemnly, "men have died fer less'n that in this country. If I thought you'd done that on purpose I'd slit your throat from ear to ear and leave you."
"I thought I was very particular and cut off everything that looked suspicious," said Wallie, meekly, "I must have missed something."
"You shore did! And," Pinkey demanded, "what might them horrors be on the platter? Them teeth are mighty familiar."
Wallie quavered: