"There's my bread-earner,—what an edge it has! Talking of bread, mother, just hand me some of that beside you."
"And talking of knives, too," replied Calabash, "François has found out—you know what—in the wood-pile!"
"What do you mean?" asked Nicholas, not understanding her.
"Why, he saw—one of the feet!"
"Phew!" whistled Nicholas; "what, of the man?"
"Yes," answered the widow, concisely, at the same time placing a large slice of meat on her son's plate.
"That's droll enough," returned the young ruffian; "I'm sure the hole was dug deep enough; but I suppose the ground has sunk in a good deal."
"It must all be thrown into the river to-night," said the widow.
"That is the surest way to get rid of further bother," said Nicholas.
"Yes," chimed in Calabash, "throw it in the river, with a heavy stone fastened to it, with part of an old boat-chain."