ACT II.
SCENE. VERNON'S blacksmith shop, adjoining his living-room. Forge. Door to living-room above forge. Bellows down stage below forge. Bench with vise at left. Big double doors. Trusses. Tub of water back of anvil.
DISCOVERED. JOE and CAL beating weld of tire; ESROM, a half-witted negro, absently playing jew's-harp on trusses.
JOE. [Wearing boots and leather apron.] Hand me the traveller. [HELPER hands it, and drops tire horizontally on anvil, while JOE runs traveller around it inside.] Jes' the same size—give it another heat an' we'll beat her out a quarter inch. [Crosses to left centre. HELPER puts tire into fire and works bellows.] Esrom!
ESROM. Yes, sah.
JOE. I'm purty busy now, an' that tune—can't you let up till I'm through?
ESROM. Yes, sah.
JOE. An' while you're resting you might bring another bucket o' water an' dump it in this tub.
ESROM. [Going.] Yes, sah—don't you really want to buy any mo' coke?
JOE. Not this morning, Esrom. [Exit ESROM with jew's-harp, playing.] Ready? [Takes tire from fire and hammers weld out—when pounding is done, traveller runs over it as before. Enter MRS. VERNON.
MRS. VERNON. Joe, can't you leave that now?
JOE. Course I can't, ma—it's Louisiana time now.
MRS. VERNON. Well, the breakfast's spilin'. [Exit.
JOE. [Calling.] Well, it's Dave an' his durned alarm-clock—if I'd let Kate set it—I guess she's all right now, Cal. [HELPER puts tire in fire—last heating. JOE goes to trusses and lays wheel square. Enter SARBER. SARBER wears linen duster and boots, and carries a whip.] Hello, Bill.
SARBER. [Down] Hello, Joe—mighty nigh time. [Looking at watch.
JOE. Won't be a minute longer—soon as we stretch her a little and drop her over this bunch of bones—
SARBER. [Examining wheel.] Hello, Cal? [HELPER nods.] Fellers ain't hurt?
JOE. Nothin' ain't hurt. [Enter ESROM with water.] This wheel's got as purty a dish as I ever see.
SARBER. Don't know why the durned weld broke.
JOE. Them steel tires are hard to make fast sometimes—
ESROM. Right heah, Joe.
JOE. Let her go.
ESROM pours water into tub.
ESROM. [Coaxingly.] No coke dis mawnin'?
JOE. No. [ESROM exits. To SARBER, pointing to dog under bench.]
Ever see that chap before?
SARBER. The dog?
JOE. Yes.
SARBER. Is that the same one I dropped the rail on?
JOE. [Nods.] Me an' Jim put his leg in splinters last night.
SARBER. [Shaking head and smiling.] Jim!
JOE. [Pointing to coach.] Looks like you been in the real estate business, Bill.
SARBER. Wall, yes—we took a turn or two at it.
Enter BOLLINGER.
BOLLINGER. Hello, Sarber, when's your ingine start?
SARBER. Joe's fixin' one of her drivers.
JOE. [Looking towards forge.] Won't be a minute, Tom.
BOLLINGER. Everybody waiting at the drug-store—we want to go 'fore it gets too hot,—folks says you're hanging back so Clark kin sell out his sody water.
SARBER. [Looking at watch.] Shake her up, Joe.
JOE. I guess we're ready. [Two NEGROES of a quartette enter and stand idly about. Takes tire with HELPER.] Get out of the way. [Drops tire on wheel and adjusts it. Drives pin through one hole. KELLY enters, looks at coach, and nervously about.
JOE. What's new, Tom, about Sam Fowler?
BOLLINGER. [Looking at work.] Papers say the company has let him go.
JOE. Scott free?
BOLLINGER. Yes.
JOE. Then he'll have to pay his own board now.
BOLLINGER. I reckon.
JOE and HELPER carry wheel to tub and chill the tire.
SARBER. Think she'll stay now?
JOE. As soon as we get the bolts in her. [Two other NEGROES enter, completing the male quartette. Enter TRAVERS.] Look out.
They lift wheel to trusses and silently adjust bolts. As this takes time, the NEGROES fill in with songs.
TRAVERS. [Coming down with KELLY.] Well, what's up?
KELLY. I'm goin' to skip on this stage.
TRAVERS. Why?
KELLY. Too hot,—see papers?
TRAVERS. No.
KELLY. Well, young Sam Fowler will know you the minute he sees you—and he's comin' back to-day.
TRAVERS. He can't get here till to-night, on account of the wash-outs—I'm going to risk it.
KELLY. Well, I quit you.
TRAVERS. I risk more than you.
KELLY. All right, but you don't risk me. You went in the car, like a blamed fool, without a thing on your face—
VILLAGERS at door.
TRAVERS. Be careful.
KELLY. Careful? I skip.
They turn up right. Enter JIM.
BOLLINGER. Hello, Jim—Louisiana?
JIM. No. [Kneels by dog-box.
SARBER. Hello, Jim?
JIM. Ain't you late?
SARBER. Joe's keeping me.
JIM. [Pointing to door.] Big load this mornin'?
SARBER. Yes, if they all go. [Returns to wheel. JIM goes in house.
KELLY. [Coming down with TRAVERS.] You'd risk your neck for that girl?
TRAVERS. I'm all right, Kelly. I'll get out to-night, but I've got to see her first.
They go up and exeunt.
BOLLINGER. Joe.
JOE. Yes.
BOLLINGER. [Looking off carefully.] I see Jim last night after we left here. He says he's out of the race for Legislature.
JOE. That's what he says.
BOLLINGER. Why?
JOE. Well, what did he say?
BOLLINGER. Personal reasons.
JOE. Well, that goes—all right, Cal,—put her on now, an' let 'em get out.
Wheel is done. CAL takes it up to coach.
BOLLINGER. Well, you're jes' as good as elected then, Joe.
JOE. Think so?
BOLLINGER. Sure. See here. [Aside.] Folks down in Louisiana thinks Jim will be the nominee. I'm goin' down to-day to bet fifteen or twenty dollars he won't, 'fore they hear of it.
JOE. No promises.
BOLLINGER. No, sir-ee—put up, or shut up—I've got twenty-two and a half in my pocket—some of it's Clark's, but blamed little.
Re-enter JIM with pan of milk—kneels by dog and feeds it.
SARBER. Now stand out of the way there.
BOLLINGER. Goin', Bill?
SARBER. Soon as we hitch.
They take wagon out. BOLLINGER, KELLY, TRAVERS and SARBER go out with wagon.
JOE. Come Cal—[CAL turns.] Hash! [CAL exits.] Breakfast, Jim.
JIM. Had it.
JOE. Come, set with us. [Exit, followed by JIM.
Enter TRAVERS.
TRAVERS. Kelly is right. I should go on that coach—but—I must see
Kate—they're at breakfast—if I only—yes, just a minute. [Beckons
KATE.] I wish that fellow wasn't here.
Enter KATE.
KATE. Mr. Travers.
TRAVERS. I should leave on that coach.
KATE. Do I keep you?
TRAVERS. Yes.
KATE. Why?
TRAVERS. Because when I leave Bowling Green now, I shall never come back.
KATE. You—you are jesting.
TRAVERS. In dead earnest. [Slight clatter of dishes—KATE looks off.] Do you care for that man?
KATE. [Coming down.] I admire him. I think he is a good and a noble character.
TRAVERS. Better than I am.
KATE. He may be,—but—I don't love him—
TRAVERS. Do you love me?
SARBER. [Off.] All ready; get in.
KATE. The stage is going. [She turns.
TRAVERS. Do you love me?
SARBER. Get in.
TRAVERS. Do you?
KATE. [Pause.] Yes.
TRAVERS. Then let them leave—[SARBER calling "git ap"—and a whip cracks. We hear stage—voices go.] Will you go with me—to-night?
KATE. How—go with you?
TRAVERS. As my wife.
KATE. But why such haste? Why go as if we feared anything?
TRAVERS. I must go to-night. Great interests depend upon it. I know your people don't like me, but I haven't time to humour them. Will you go?
KATE. Let me think till then.
TRAVERS. Yes,—good-bye till to-night. [Holds her hand—she turns as if to leave.] Kate! Kate! Good-bye. [Impulsive turn and embrace.] Till to-night.
Enter DAVE, from breakfast.
DAVE. Huh! [Shortly; more a chuck than an exclamation. The lovers start.] Oh! Seminary!
TRAVERS exits.
DAVE. [Embarrassed—nodding off.] Breakfast.
KATE. Thank you. [Exits.
DAVE. [Going to bench and beginning work on shaft with draw knife.]
Well—Lizbeth don't know so blamed much about books—[Shakes head.]
But—huh—[Shakes head again.] I tell you—[Works hard—enter
LIZBETH with pan, which she puts on forge.
DAVE. [Commanding.] Come here, Lizbeth.
LIZBETH. [Crosses to DAVE. Pause.] What? [Falling inflection.
DAVE. [Cautiously, approving her.] Why, dog gone it—[Shakes head.] Huh! [Swaggers.] I tell you—[Works.
LIZBETH. [Wonderingly.] What's the matter?
DAVE. [Threatening.] If you was to say seminary to me—[Swaggers.]
Huh! [Works.
LIZBETH. [After pause.] What?
DAVE. [Ominously.] Why, Lizbeth, the sooner we git married an' git out o' this, the better.
LIZBETH. [Hopelessly.] Well, what kin I do?
DAVE. [Working.] Dog gone it—if I had a stidy job!
LIZBETH. [Understandingly.] I know that, Dave. [Goes back to pan.
DAVE. [Bragging.] An' you bet your father knows it.
LIZBETH. [Portentously.] Well, I told ma—
DAVE. An' that's what he said. If I had a stidy job—
Enter EM'LY.
EM'LY. Hello—
DAVE. Why, how de do?
LIZBETH. Can't you come in?
EM'LY. Who's there? [Indicates kitchen.
LIZBETH. Only the folks and Jim.
EM'LY. I want Jim—say—Sam's there. [Off.
LIZBETH. Sam Fowler!—Oh, ma—[Exits.
DAVE. Sam—why, see here. Sam! [Goes up.
SAM enters. Wears express blue and a cap.
EM'LY. [Beckoning.] Sam!
DAVE brings SAM down. Enter JOE, followed by MRS. VERNON,
LIZBETH and KATE.
JOE. [Heartily.] Sam, Sam, how are you?
SAM. [Shaking hands.] I didn't know how you'd feel about it.
MRS. VERNON. [Shaking.] Why, Lor', Sam—I'm glad—I'll bet Em'ly kissed him.
KATE and LIZBETH shake hands with SAM. Enter JIM—EM'LY runs to him.
EM'LY. Jim!
JIM puts his left arm around EM'LY and sits on anvil.
SAM. [Approaching and taking JIM'S hand, smiling.] You didn't think I done it, did you, Jim?
JIM. [Nods at EM'LY.] No, not while she's keepin' house for me—ha, ha!
EM'LY. He's always stood up for you, Sam.
JOE. Well, tell us 'bout it, Sam. Did the papers have it right?
They are a semi-circle about SAM.
SAM. Yes, purty near.
JOE. Did you help the feller into your car?
SAM. Yes, we were just pulling out of the depot when he came a-runnin' up to my side door with an order from the superintendent for me to carry him as fur as Vinita. He ran alongside and put his hand up, so of course I pulled him into the car.
EM'LY. Wasn't you scared, Sam?
SAM. Why, no—I thought he belonged to the company, and he went to work with me, sorting and fixing my express stuff.
JOE. Well, I'm durned!
SAM. [Intensely serious.] I joked with him—just like I'm joking with you—he was one of the nicest fellows I ever saw.
JOE. [Wide-eyed with gossip.] Don't that beat everything?
SAM. When we were eighteen or twenty miles out, an' I was stoopin' this way over a box—I felt him on my back, and grabbing at my arms—why, why—even then I thought he was jokin', and I looked around laughin', and here was his gun pokin' right into my face.
MRS. VERNON. [Haunted.] Just think of it!
JOE. Then he tied you.
SAM. What could I do? There was his gun—and I wasn't even on my feet—anybody could tie a fellow that way—I could tie you, couldn't I? [To JIM.
JIM. If you had the gun?
SAM. Yes.
JIM. Well, rather.
SAM. [Indignantly.] The ropes cut clean through here at my wrists, and there was a mark over one eye where I fell against the safe—and then the company said I was an accomplice.
JOE. Then I s'pose he jis' deliberately packed his little valise full of green-backs and—[Pantomimes.]—got out!
SAM. A hundred and twenty thousand—
JOE. Jump off?
SAM. No—got off at a water-tank.
JIM. I s'pose you'd know him agin?
SAM. Anywhere.
LIZBETH. [With nursery alarm.] He must a looked terrible.
SAM. [Commonplace.] Well, he didn't—nice a lookin' feller as you want to see. Black mustache—kind a curly hair—looked a little bit, you know, like a race-horse man.
EM'LY. The company said Sam wrote the superintendent's order himself.
SAM. Oh, yes—got an expert to swear it looked like my writing.
EM'LY. Tain't a bit—like it.
JIM. [To EMILY.] Did you see it?
SAM. No, but I showed her part of the letter he wrote to the newspaper, saying I was innocent. [Feels in pocket.] Ain't that strange? Seems to be a kind-hearted fellow.
MRS. VERNON. Jes' drove to it I s'pose by drink.
SAM. Here it is. [Hands paper to JIM.
JIM. Hello! [Looks at KATE.
JOE. What is it?
JIM hands paper to KATE.
KATE. [After slight start—haughtily.] What do you mean?
JIM. Oh, not you, Kate. [Smiling, to SAM.] 'Twasn't Kate dressed up like a man—no! [General laugh.] Oh, I didn't think that. [KATE vexed, goes up-stage. JIM in whisper to others.] Mad? [JOE shakes his head; JIM nods interrogatively to MRS. VERNON.
MRS. VERNON. [Looking after KATE.] Well, I can't see why.
Exit KATE.
JIM. [After another look after KATE—to SAM.] Well, I suppose you know you're watched.
SAM. [Indifferently.] How's that?
JIM. There's a Pinkerton here—come last night—had a letter to me from the Chief—sayin' they knew of me, an' hoped I'd co-operate with this fellow in watchin' you—and they'd pay well for it.
SAM. [Smiling.] What did you say?
JIM shakes head—goes up centre.
EM'LY. Why, Jim kicked him off—of our stoop.
General laugh.—LIZBETH crosses to forge and gets pan. ESROM enters playing jew's-harp.
ESROM. What about the coke, Mistah Vernon?
JOE. [At forge.] Don't want none. [Suddenly.] See here; look at this clinker.
ESROM. Can't understand that—shouldn't ought to be no clinker in dat coke.
JOE. Well, there it is—hard as flint.
ESROM. [Examines clinker.] Funny clinker.
JOE. Well, there it is.
JIM. Hold on, Joe. I shouldn't wonder if that was that gumbo.
JOE. What gumbo?
JIM. The poultice. I throwed it among that coke.
JOE. Yes, here's some only half-burned.
ESROM. [Going.] I knowed they shouldn't ought to be no clinker.
JOE. But look at this red piece—as hard as a rock.
JIM. [Half-startled.] Why, Joe—[Looks at him.
JOE. What?
JIM. Well, nothing—
MRS. VERNON. Well, what about breakfast, everybody?
JOE. Let's finish it—come Sam—
SAM. I've had mine.
JOE. Well, come talk to us.
SAM. [Going.] All right—got heaps to tell you.
LIZBETH. How do you like the Southern Hotel?
Exeunt all but DAVE and JIM. JIM takes clinker and turns it carefully over in his hand. Then looks through forge—goes to bench near dog, and gets on hands and knees, looking under it.
DAVE. What you lost?
JIM. Here it is—[Rises.] Some more of that gumbo. [Crosses to forge.
DAVE. What you goin' to do?
JIM. Burn it. [Looks about as if hunting help.] Here—come pump this.
DAVE crosses and takes bellows.
DAVE. What do you want to burn it for?
JIM. [Ignoring question.] Say, Dave—
DAVE. [Working bellows.] Well?
JIM. You know them old coal mines down by Jonesburg?
DAVE. Yes.
JIM. What do they sell that slack for?
DAVE. They don't sell it—they give it to anyone that'll haul it away.
JIM. I wonder if they wouldn't deliver it if you took a good deal.
DAVE. Don't know.
JIM whistles cheerily a moment and examines gumbo burning.
JIM. [Pause. Sitting on anvil.] You seem under the weather, Dave.
DAVE. [Moodily.] Oh, I'd be all right, if I had a stidy job.
JIM. [Laughing.] A steady job!—why, you've been workin' nights ever since I knew you.
DAVE. I know—but Joe says—I—I ought to have a stidy job.
JIM. What's Joe got to do with it?
DAVE. Well—Lizbeth—
JIM. [Amused.] Oh!
DAVE. An' I think I could get one, only he don't gimme no time off to look fur it.
JIM. Wait a minute. [Takes gumbo from fire.] Yes, sir—she's gettin' hot. [Puts it back and whistles a tune.
DAVE. I've almost made a set o' furniture myself.
JIM. Have, eh?
DAVE. Dug it out with that little draw-knife. I tell you—you can make anything that's made out of wood—with a draw-knife.
JIM. [On anvil again.] Well, it seems to me, Dave, that you're going at it the wrong way.
DAVE. How's that?
JIM. The old man won't give his consent till you git a steady job.
DAVE. That's it—
JIM. And you want a steady job so's you can marry Lizbeth?
DAVE. Exactly.
JIM. Well, you marry—marry Lizbeth, and you'll have a steady job. [Gets down. DAVE, absorbed with the idea, pumps vigorously.] Hold on! [DAVE stops; JIM takes gumbo from fire with tongs, and plunges it in the water.] Yes, sir, there it is—hard as a rock—and ain't it a purty color?
DAVE. What you goin' to do with it?
JIM. I don't know but if the Wabash could get enough of it to ballast that track that washes out every spring, I think they'd take it.
DAVE. [In admiration.] Well, I'm durned. The raw gumbo is all along their track. Wouldn't cost you nothin', would it?
JIM. Not if I kin get that Jonesburg slack—ha, ha!
DAVE. Why, that's great!
JIM. [Drawing watch.] It's a half hour before train time. I'll jump to St. Louis with the scheme. [Stands thinking.
DAVE. [Going.] I got to get the leather put on this shaft—but that's great. [Exit.
KATE appears in outside door.
KATE. [Coming toward JIM, who is turning gumbo thoughtfully in his hands.] Jim!
JIM. Why, Kate—[Gumbo.] See here—how's this for an idea?
KATE. What did you mean—by this? [She extends letter.
JIM. Why, just that. I thought it looked like his writin',—same backhand, and no shadin' to it.
KATE. How could Mr. Travers have written it?
JIM. Why, no use gettin' mad, Kate. It kin look like his writin', can't it?
KATE. [Going to anvil and leaning on back of it.] You don't like him, Jim, do you?
JIM. [Picks up old horse-shoe.] Well—[Mechanically pounds gumbo with horse-shoe.
KATE. [Pause.] Not much—
JIM. No—not a great deal, Kate.
KATE. [Displaying the letter.] Do you think he's a bad enough man to have done this?
JIM. Well, a fellow who takes a risk like that—to clear another man who's been arrested in his place, ain't so bad.
KATE. A train robber!
JIM. Why, I don't say he done it.
KATE. But you think so.
JIM. [Laughing.] Oh, no, I don't—there's a ten thousand dollar reward for the right man.
KATE. Then why hand this letter to me? Why imply it?
JIM. Why, Kate, I'm a friend of—your pa's—I've known you ever since you was eight or ten years old. I don't know this man Travers—you don't know him. He comes to your house.
KATE. Well.
JIM. Comes to see you, don't he?
KATE. [Getting in front of anvil.] He does—what of it?
JIM. Why—I don't think I'd like a preacher of the Gospel if he was to do that. [Pause.] I—I never meant to say anything—but when men—other men—I mean anybody gets to payin' you attention, why, I'm afraid to keep still any longer—
KATE. [Turns away.] To keep still—
JIM. [Advances.] Yes, I've been sheriff here, an' whenever I've had anything to do, I've said to myself, now don't—do anything—ugly—'cause Kate—[KATE turns toward him; he qualifies tone.] some day, you know—Kate might think more of me if I hadn't done it. You know yourself that I quit drinkin' a year before the local option—on account of that essay you read, examination day—why, Kate, I care more for how you feel about anything than I do for anybody in the State of Mizzoura—that's just how it is. [Pause. KATE is silent.] You kin remember yourself when you was a little girl an' I used to take a horse-shoe an' tie it on the anvil an' make a side-saddle for you—an' I reckon I was the first fellow in Bowling Green that ever called you. Miss Kate when you come back from school.
KATE. [Rather tenderly.] I didn't want you to call me Miss Kate,
Jim.
JIM. Jes' fun, you know—an' now, Kate, when you're a woman, an' it's only nature for men to like you,—I've got to ask you myself.
KATE. [Pause.] I'm awful sorry you did it, Jim.
JIM. Sorry!
KATE. Yes, because I like you well enough, Jim—but—[Pause. Enter
JOE. KATE stops.
JOE. Say, Jim—
JIM. [Motioning JOE to silence.] Go on, Kate—I ain't ashamed of it—before Joe.
KATE. That's all there is to it—I just like you.
JIM. Well, I didn't know—you used to let me kiss you—
KATE. Yes, when I was coming home from school—I did. I thought I was going to love you then. But there was the school. [Pauses] If I hadn't gone to Lindenwood I might have thought so still. But we could never be happy together, Jim—you haven't had proper advantages, I know, and it isn't your fault. My education has put the barrier between us. Those four years at the Seminary—
JOE. [Indignantly.] Why, Kate Vernon—everything you know, Jim
Radburn—
JIM. [Imperatively.] Hold on—[Pause.] You've heard her say no, and—that lets you out. As far as I'm concerned—why, Kate's nearly right. I don't know any more'n the law allows—but—that's for Kate to say—
JIM extends his hand in appeal to KATE. KATE turns her back to audience—leans on anvil, firmly shakes her head "No," JIM motions silence to JOE; makes a struggle, and pulls himself together—turns and kneels by dog, caressing it.