"Iss sure; but I reckon he don't want to see 'ee, Zacky Tonkin," replied the old man.
"Maybe, but I want to see he, and ye can tell un so."
Reuben departed. In a minute he returned.
"Squire says ye're to step in," he said, sourly. "For me, I'd shet the door in yer face, and well you know why."
Tonkin and his companions were led to the living room, where sat the Squire and his wife.
"Well, Tonkin, what can I do for you?" said the Squire pleasantly.
"Nawthin' as I know on, Squire, thank 'ee kindly. My respects, my lady." He turned his hat awkwardly between his hands. "The truth is, Squire," he went on, "I b'lieve I'm the feyther or an ungrateful young feller. I be real vexed to think he didn' say a word o' thanks to Maister Dick for what he done for un, and he hev got to say it now, or I'll leather un. Med I see young Maister?"
"Not to-night, Tonkin. I sent him to bed, and there he'll stay."
"Then maybe ye'll carr' it for me, sir. Now Jake, make yer bob and say yer say."
Jake touched his forelock, but stood in lubberly silence.