Then another explosion was heard, closer; it seemed to come from a region just beyond the passageway; and it was immediately followed by a clatter of lumber and an increase of eloquence in the vocal argument.
“You quit that!” the man’s voice bellowed plaintively. “You don’t know what you’re doin’; you blame near croaked me that time! You quit that, Mabel!”
“I’m a-goin’ to learn you!” the woman’s voice announced. “You come out from under them boards, and I’ll learn you whether I know what I’m doin’ or not! Come out!”
“Please go on away and lea’ me alone,” the man implored. “I never done nothin’ to you. I never seen a cent o’ that money! Honest, George never give me a cent of it. Why’n’t you go an ast him? He’s right in yonder. Oh, my goodness, whyn’t you ast him?”
“Come out from under them boards!”
The man’s voice became the more passionate in its protesting. “Oh, my goodness! Mabel, can’t you jest ast George? He ain’t left the place; you know that! He can’t show his face in daytime, and he’s right there in the bar, and so’s Limpy. Limpy’ll tell you jest the same as what George will, if you’ll only go and ast ’em. Why can’t you go and ast ’em?”
“Yes!” the woman cried. “And while I’m in there astin’ ’em, where’ll you be? Over the alley fence and a mile away! You come out from under them boards and git croaked like you’re a-goin’ to!”
“Oh, my goodness!” the man wailed. “I wish I had somep’m on me to lam you with! Jest once! That’s all I’d ast—jest one little short crack at you!”
“You come out from under them boards!”
“I won’t! I’ll lay here till——”