“Oh, I beg yore pardon.”
“Could yuh find it again?” asked Hashknife grinning.
“Shore. If the wind’s blowin’ jist—”
“Wait a minute!” snorted Honey. “You let up on that departed critter, or I’ll—I’ll—”
“All right, Honey.”
“About how long had the animal been dead, Slim?” asked Hashknife.
“Well, I’ll tell yuh, Hartley. Judgin’ from the—”
“Oh, ⸺!” exploded Honey.
He kicked back his chair and tramped out through the kitchen to the rear of the house, where he sat down on the well-curb and rolled a smoke.
Slim reached across the table, removed an egg from Honey’s plate and placed it on his own.