“There’s Ole Hey coming!” cried Matt, breathlessly.
“Kin’t you speak quietly?” thundered Mrs. Cattermole. “You made my heart jump like a frog. You don’t mean Ole Hey from Cobequid, the man es you said married your mother?”
“Yes, thet’s the skunk. I reckon he’s come to take me back.”
Mrs. Cattermole’s eyes flashed angrily. “Well, I swan! But you’ve promised to bide with us.”
“Thet’s so. I wouldn’t go back fur Captain Kidd’s treasure! I won’t see him.”
“I’ll tell him you’re gone away.”
“No,” said Matt, sturdily. “I wrote that I was goin’ to be ’prenticed here, and there ain’t any call for lies. Tell him I’m in the kitchen and I won’t come out, and I don’t want to hev anythin’ to do with him. See!”
“Well, set there and mind the cradle, and I’ll jest give him slockdologee. You uns allow you’re considerable smart, Cobequid way, but I reckon he’s struck the wrong track this time.”
Matt grinned joyously. “Spunk up to him, ma’am!” he cried, with stirring reminiscences of fights at McTavit’s. “Walk into him full split!”
“You mind the baby, young man. There won’t be no touse at all. He don’t set foot in my kitchen, and there’s an end of it.”