"I won't!" says he. "I—I'll have you thrown out!"
"You will, eh?" says I, makin' a rush for him.
"O-o-o-oh, Aunty, Aunty!" he squeals, dashin' down the hall.
Now, say, the way I was feelin' then, I'd have gone up against a whole fam'ly, big brothers included; so a little thing like a call for Aunty don't stop me at all. As he turns into the room on the left I'm only a jump behind, and all that fetches me up is when he does a dive behind an old lady in a big leather chair. She's a wide, heavy old party, with a dinky white cap on her white hair, and kind of a resigned, patient look on her face. Someway, she acts like she was more or less used to surprises like this; for she don't seem much excited.
"Why, Hadley!" she remarks. "Whatever is the matter now?"
"He—he chased me into the house!" whines Master Hadley from behind the chair.
"Did you?" says the old girl.
"Sure," says I. "He's too blamed fresh!"
"There, there!" says she. "You mustn't speak that way of Hadley. He is only a little boy, you know."
"Yes'm," says I.