"I seed Miss Margaret an' Miss Lou out yander jest now," Kintchin answered, backing off as Peters advanced toward him.
"I didn't ask about them. Whew, what you got sich a hot fire in here for?"
"Mammy's been ironin'."
"Yes. Been a meltin iron I should think. Is Starbuck at home? Answer me, you scoundrel." He made a threatening gesture and Kintchin, backing further off, cried out, "Doan rush me, suh. Ef I'se er scoundul you hatter give me time. Er scoundul hatter be keerful whut he say. I seed Mr. Starbuck dis mawnin', suh."
Peters turned as if to go out, but halted and looked at Kintchin. The old negro nodded. "Say, is that young feller and that woman here yit?"
"Gimmy time—gimmy time. I's er scoundul, you know."
"Do you want me to mash your head?"
Kintchin put his hand to his head. "Whut, dis one right yere? No, suh, I doan blebe I does."