“Aunt Sally, lock me up! Lock us up tight! Quick––quick! I seen him! He’ll do it! My mother says Antonio always does do things, he does! Quick, quick!”
“Lock up, quick!”
Ned and the echo swung round behind the matron’s capacious person and rolled themselves in the folds of her full skirt, which performance hid them from the view of anyone outside and as effectually interfered with her movements.
But she had now caught something of their excitement, and their appeal to her protection had promptly banished her last trace of anger against them.
“So I will, lambies, so I will. You just keep on a steppin’ backwards and I’ll do it, too, and first we 133 know we’ll get to that nice pantry where we stayed last night. I’ve got the key to that, even if ’tis rusty from not bein’ often used, and I’ll defy anybody to get it away from me.”
Still beating her eggs as if nothing uncommon were happening, the housewife retreated toward the door in question, and slipping one hand behind her opened it without turning her head. She was instantly relieved of the drag upon her skirts, and quietly shut the door again upon her self-imprisoned charges. Then she drew a long breath, and exclaimed:
“Well, sharpshooter, what do you think of that?”
“Looks as if you couldn’t have been so very hard on them, else they’d never come back.”
“I ain’t a-flatterin’ myself. That was a ‘Hobson’s choice.’ But–––”
“But they must have been badly frightened to have done it.”