“You will promise!” he stormed. “I am not to be tricked by a boy!”
For reply I kicked out with my right boot as hard as I could. The blow caught the man in the shin, and howling with pain he relaxed his grip, and I squirmed away and made for the door.
“Stop! stop!”
“I won’t stop,” I returned, when I was at a safe distance. “I am not to be treated like a dog.”
“Come here, Reuben! I’m not going to treat you like a dog. I only want you to act reasonably.”
“I am acting reasonably.”
“No, you’re not. Come in here and get supper ready. It’s time we had it—going on eight o’clock.”
What was I to do? I was tremendously hungry, and to a growing boy his appetite is an important thing. I lingered on the doorstep.
“Come in here and prepare supper,” he repeated.