“Git out!” says Johnnie, but he didn’t come any nearer.
“Are you going to tell Mr. Manning I want to see him?
“No. Git!”
Catty walked up to the rail and looked at Johnnie a second. Then what did he do but open his mouth and holler, “Mr. Manning!” as loud as he could. Johnnie looked half scared to death, and I made sure the door was where I could use it prompt. “Mr. Manning!” yelled Catty again.
The door of the private office smashed open and there stood Mr. Manning, scowling like all-git-out.
“What’s this racket? What’s this racket?” he says, sharp and angry.
“This boy—” Johnnie started to say, but Catty broke right in:
“Does this feller know everybody you want to see or don’t want to see?” he asked, and he wasn’t frightened a bit. He spoke right up, like he was a grown man—not impudent, but kind of severe.
Mr. Manning almost jumped. For a second he didn’t know what to say, and then, because he was so surprised, I guess, he didn’t roar or chase us out, but just answered. “No,” he says.
“I thought so,” says Catty, “so when he wouldn’t tell you I wanted to see you I thought I’d tell you myself.”