“What kid?”
“Banty Gage.”
Dad kept his face very straight, but I knew by the looks of him that he wanted to laugh. “What has Banty done to you?”
“He didn’t do anythin’—but his Ma did. I can’t lick his Ma, because fellers don’t pick fights with wimmin, but it seems as if I ought to lick somebody, and, her bein’ his Ma, he comes closest to bein’ the right person.”
“You feel like fighting, eh? Well, I don’t blame you.... You said before you and your father went away. Are you going away?”
“When I git home I’m goin’ to tell Dad it’s time to move on.”
“And he’ll go?”
“’Course. Dad’s always willin’ to go.”
“And you’re going because of what Mrs. Gage said?”
Catty nodded.