“Ah'm hungry,” said Chrisfield. “Let's go an' get that ole woman to cook us some aigs.”
“Too damn late,” growled Judkins.
“How the hell late is it?”
“Dunno, I sold my watch.”
They were walking at random through the orchard. They came to a field full of big pumpkins that gleamed in the moonlight and cast shadows black as holes. In the distance they could see wooded hills.
Chrisfield picked up a medium-sized pumpkin and threw it as hard as he could into the air. It split into three when it landed with a thud on the ground, and the moist yellow seeds spilled out.
“Some strong man, you are,” said Judkins, tossing up a bigger one.
“Say, there's a farmhouse, maybe we could get some aigs from the hen-roost.”
“Hell of a lot of hens....”
At that moment the crowing of a rooster came across the silent fields. They ran towards the dark farm buildings.