The epithet passed unheard, for the grave-digger was looking at the stark body rolled in a soiled blanket now lying face downward in the dirt of the grave.
"Jump in there and put him back!" cried Lutz excitedly.
The grave-digger backed off and shook his head emphatically.
"Not me!"
"What are you here for—you?"
"Not for jobs like this; this sure don't look right to me."
"What do I care how it looks to you! Get busy and help me roll him back and be quick about it!"
"I ain't paid for no such crooked work as this."
"Crooked?"
"I've heard it straight that every pauper had a suit o' clothes, a coffin, a six-foot grave, and a headboard comin' to him from the County. That's the law."