Lively plays for live people

by Thomas S. Denison

IT’S ALL IN THE PAY STREAK.

Scene—Home of the Lawton’s, entrance R. and L. in 1. Window in flat C., piano up L. by flat, sofa up R., table down L. C. with chairs. Portrait of lady on flat R. of window, flowers on mantel piece R. In this play L. always means L 1, and R., R 1. Discovered as curtain rises, Flossie reading note. Lamp lighted on table.

Flossie. What am I to do? (Reads.) “Meet me at eight at the old oak by the spring.” The poor boy doesn’t know that the grove is cut down and the whole place built up with cottages. Five years since he left, and we thought he was dead. He must be desperate to come back like this and take the chance of meeting father. Poor boy! Papa is so unrelenting. Snapped Rachel up for even mentioning Herbert’s name once. And he was always Rachel’s pet. Oh, if she doesn’t find him! I ought to have gone myself, but I was afraid. He’ll think that I, too, never forgave him. (Moves nervously.) I can hardly wait till Rachel returns. If she doesn’t find him—

Enter Mr. Lawton, R.

Law. Daughter, is my paper here?

Flo. It is on the table, papa. (Law. seats by table.)

Law. Rachel is very careless lately. I always want my paper in the library. I’ve spent half the time I had to read looking for it.

Flo. I’m very sorry, papa.

Law. Florence, you don’t hold a very firm rein. The servants run the house. (Reading.)

Flo. But papa, Rachel has been here ever since I can remember. Why shouldn’t she manage? She knows everything about housekeeping much better than I.

Law. You are too easy, child. Your mother always allowed herself to be imposed on through sheer good nature.

Flo. Why, papa, nobody imposes on me. Rachel is almost a mother to me.

Law. You must be firm. It may do with Rachel, but the others—(looks up.) Why Flossie, bless me, what ails you? (Flo. wipes eyes.) I didn’t mean to scold, but really—there now, never mind. Perhaps I spoke too sharply.

Flo. Dear father, you have always been so good, but—(pause.)

Law. (Gazing at her.) But what, Flossie? Don’t mind me. I forgot that you are scarcely more than a child.

Flo. (With slight opposition.) I’m not a child. I am eighteen. I want to be treated as a woman.

Law. (Laughs.) Very well, Miss Florence Lawton, what does my young lady want?

Flo. I want—(nervously) I want a great deal.

Law. All young ladies do nowadays. A new gown, or diamonds possibly?

Flo. Can’t a woman think of anything besides dress?

Law. Some women can’t.

Flo. If mother were living and asked you something seriously, you wouldn’t treat her that way.

Law. (Rises takes her hands tenderly.) Child, there is something on your mind, speak freely. As I see you before me, I see the image of your dear mother. Flossie, when you ask, you ask for two.

Flo. Then, dearest papa, may I ask a very—very great favor? So great that—I’m afraid to ask it.

Law. (Seriously.) Why, my child, what is the matter?

Flo. (Looks at him intently.) Nothing much. (With feeling.) Dear papa—

Law. Speak out. Am I such an ogre as to frighten my own child. Why make so much ado about it? (Pause.) Florence, why don’t you speak? Has Mr. Vance been disagreeable?

Flo. (With down-cast eyes.) It isn’t Harvey—how absurd—(nervously) Oh papa, do you think that—brother Herbert—

Law. (Hardening, short pause, then with effort.) Daughter, why do you wring my heart like this? That name is forbidden in this house.

Flo. But Herbert is your son and my brother.

Law. No, I have no son and you have no brother. He disgraced us and then robbed us. He sent your mother to her grave. (With feeling.) He is dead.

Flo. But if he were not dead?

Law. I know what you mean. But he is dead to us. I had some months ago a letter from him which I burned unopened. I’ve heard enough of his pretended repentance.

Flo. Oh papa—

Law. Has he written to you?

Flo. He only begs forgiveness. He does not ask for money.

Law. Florence, I forbid you to communicate with him or speak his name. If he comes back here the prison is ready for him. Flossie, no disobedience, remember.

Flo. Where are you going, papa?

Law. To the lodge. Good-bye. (Exit Law, R.)

Flo. What can I do? My duty is to a poor, needy, erring brother as well as to my father. And papa is so hard on that point.

Enter Rachel, L.

Flo. (Breathlessly.) Did you find him, Rachel?

Rach. Yes, the poor boy was that glad to see me, he fairly hugged me.

Flo. Where is he?

Rach. He came with me.

Flo. That is dangerous, he may be seen here.

Rach. He would come. He must see you.

Flo. I wonder if I’d know him?

Rach. I’m afraid not, Miss Flossie.

Flo. Is he so changed?

Rach. He looks thin an’ tired like.

Flo. Poor Herbert! Did he ask about me or papa?

Rach. You first! The poor child was wanderin’ round like a stray sheep. He didn’t know that the old place was sold for lots. It seemed to make him sad.

Flo. Rachel, what shall we do?

Rach. Did you speak to Mr. Lawton?

Flo. Yes, and papa frightened me. He seemed so bitter—and so hurt.

Rach. I’ll tell him I think he is too harsh.

Flo. No, Rachel, leave that to me.

Rach. Then Herbie will have to wait. If you don’t mind my sayin’ it, he did act pretty bad.

Flo. But we must forgive, always, Rachel.

Rach. Land, haven’t I cried for him many’s the time. Your mother and I often spoke of him between ourselves.

Flo. Where is he now?

Rach. In the kitchen.

Flo. I’ll see him here. He shall never say that his only sister received him in the kitchen.

Rach. But the risk, Miss Florence.

Flo. Papa is at the lodge, and I expect no one this evening. How does he look, Rachel? Do you think I’ll know him?

Rach. I guess not. In fact, he’s desprit shabby.

Flo. Then we must give him some clothes. Papa has plenty, and I think they are about of a size.

Rach. Yes, I think they be. Shall I fix him up a little?

Flo. Yes, get papa’s last year’s gray suit. I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll see what money I have. (Takes out purse. Exit Rach. L.) Dear me! I’ve only a pitiful two dollars and some silver. I’ve been too extravagant.

Enter Harvey Vance, R.

Vance. Good evening, Flossie.

Flo. (Drops purse.) Oh, Mr. Vance, you startled me.

Vance. (Gallantly picks up pocket-book.) Mister Vance! You are very formal. I used to be Harvey.

Flo. (Embarrassed.) But I didn’t expect you.

Vance. Of course not. I thought I’d surprise you. (Notices her.) Why, Flossie, are you ill? You are trembling like a leaf. (Be seated, offers to help her to a seat; she gently repulses him.)

Flo. (Hesitates.) I didn’t expect you.

Vance. I don’t see why my sudden appearance should affect you that way, since we are to be married in a month.

Flo. Pardon me, Harvey. I—I think I—

Vance. (Anxiously.) My dear, you are ill! Do sit down. (She refuses as before.)

Flo. I am not ill—only—(with effort) I am cross to-night.

Vance. (Laughs lightly.) If that is all I’ll talk you into a good humor. I have the plan of our new house here. It will be the finest on the hill. I’ve had that staircase changed. I wish to see if it meets your approval. It must go to the contractors by to-night’s mail; that’s why I came.

Enter Rachel, door L., then about to withdraw suddenly.

Flo. Rachel!

Rach. Miss Florence? (Putting in head again.)

Flo. I’ll give the orders later.

Rach. Yes, Miss! (Exit.)

Vance. (Sits at table.) Sit down, Flossie. This plan has been altered since—

Flo. Harvey, please—I cannot look at the plan to-night!

Vance. Why not?

Flo. I am not in the mood. Excuse me please.

Vance. But it must go immediately!

Flo. Send it! I don’t care about the changes!

Vance. But you did care.

Flo. I don’t care now.

Vance (Anxiously.) Don’t care now? Our own house? Why, Florence!

Flo. I mean I can’t look at it now.

Vance. (Rises.) Florence, don’t you think you are just a little bit capricious sometimes?

Flo. (Nervously.) Perhaps! Why not? Must a woman smile always?

Vance. Flossie, you don’t want to see me to-night, that is plain.

Flo. Harvey, you men are so exacting. There are times when one wants to—to be let alone.

Vance. There now! We’ll not quarrel. We have never quarreled yet. I thought you’d like to see me—I mean the plan. But you don’t.

Flo. Why don’t you show it to papa? He’s at the lodge. Go and meet him.

Vance. I don’t think he is interested in it very much. But I guess I’ll try it.

Flo. (Pleased.) Oh, do Harvey.

Vance. Florence, excuse my thoughtlessness. I have intruded. I beg pardon. I see there are times when even a man’s sweetheart isn’t interested in his plans.

Flo. (Coaxingly.) Harvey, don’t be absurd.

Vance. I am not absurd. I’ve only been thoughtless, that’s all. (Going R.) Good night.

Flo. Good night. (Goes to door with him.) I’m so sorry. (Exit Vance, R.) There’s a narrow escape and what will Harvey think of me. I have actually been rude. Why, he left his plan after all! (Goes L., calls Rachel.)

Enter Rachel, L.

Flo. The coast is clear, Rachel, I actually feel guilty. If papa should return—

Rach. Shall I bring him in?

Flo. Yes, be quick. (Exit Rachel, L.) I must get him away. To think that he must be driven like a tramp from his own home.

Enter Herbert, L. He advances and then stands with down-cast look.

Flo. Oh Herbert, dear brother! (Advances toward him.) Why, Herbie, can’t you speak to me?

Herb. (Advances.) Little Flossie!

Flo. Not so little now! (Grasping both his hands, hesitates.) I thought you might kiss your sister.

Herb. Flossie, can you forgive me? (Kisses her.)

Flo. Am I not your sister?

Herb. (Admiring her.) How you have grown! and how pretty you are! Just the image of mother. (Starts, wipes away tear.) Dare I ask her forgiveness, too? I cannot look her in the face.

Flo. Oh Herbert!

Herb. What is it, Flossie? How strange you look! Where is mother?

Flo. (Takes him gently by the hand and leads him to portrait.) There!

Herb. (Looks at picture then at Flo., staggers to chair.) Dead! God forgive me, I killed her. (Buries his face in his hands.)

Flo. (With handkerchief to eyes, in broken voice.) Herbert, we must all die. She is happy now.

Herb. And I, miserable wretch, repaid her love with disobedience. I broke her heart.

Flo. (Gently takes his hand.) Brother, have you asked God to forgive you?

Herb. Yes, but my prayers are in vain.

Flo. No, God forgives, and she has forgiven. She died with your name on her lips.

Herb. (Moved.) I must go now. For months I have dwelt upon the time when I could fall on my knees at her side and ask her forgiveness. Now there is only the hard world for me. And father—

Flo. You must not see him yet.

Herb. He is still relentless? I do not blame him, but he might have written me that she was dead—

Flo. We thought—

Herb. (Looks at her.) You thought I was dead, too? I wish I had died.

Flo. Herbert, you are still young, there is time yet.

Herb. Too late. I know father too well. He never will forgive me. When I took mother’s jewels—that turned his heart to stone.

Flo. Dear brother, I will win him over if you give me time. But he must know that you have truly repented. What are you doing now?

Herb. God knows, I am trying. I have had hard luck. I came to the door like a tramp. And here I am in his clothes. I’d sooner beg than take them, but Rachel made me put them on.

Flo. But you have been earning something.

Herb. (Bitterly.) Something! Yes, fifteen dollars per month in a livery stable and sleep in the stable.

Flo. Oh Herbert!

Herb. And I lost that job three months ago. Times were so hard they couldn’t keep me.

Flo. Have you no money?

Herb. (Bitterly.) Money! and out of work so long! Florence, you don’t know the world.

Flo. I’ll give you some. But I have so little, only two dollars. Take that. (Gives money.)

Herb. (Smiling.) I suppose you’ll think I want to work the family for money. That is about all I ever did.

Flo. Nonsense, Herbie. I only wish I had more. Isn’t there some friend?

Herb. Friend! (Laughs bitterly.) Friends! Mine all quit me when my money was done.

Flo. (Suddenly.) Oh, I know of one, he’ll help you.

Herb. I haven’t a friend in the world. Who is he, Flossie?

Flo. (Hesitating.) A friend of—of the family. A good friend.

Herb. (Pause, he regards her.) A very good friend?

Flo. Yes, the noblest friend in the world.

Herb. (Smiling.) I begin to see, little sister. Going to marry him?

Flo. Yes, next month.

Herb. Lucky fellow!

Flo. And then papa will be lonely and he may—I’ll try my best.

Herb. He never will, not for years any way, if ever. Who is your friend?

Flo. Harvey Vance. You don’t know him. He is a new man who started a carriage factory here. He doesn’t even know that I have a brother.

Herb. You had better tell him, Flossie. Don’t keep anything back. He mightn’t like it if he heard afterwards from some one else.

Flo. I don’t like to speak against you.

Herb. Then just say there is a black sheep in the family. If he wants to know more, he’ll ask.

Flo. Oh, he is so honorable, he’d never ask; and he’ll help you.

Herb. I’d rather work my own way. I look pretty well in these clothes, though they are not exactly a fit. The governor is stouter than he used to be.

Flo. Papa is very well and strong.

Herb. (Laughs.) Yes, and I imagine it wouldn’t be healthy for me if he caught me here.

Flo. Oh no, and—I can’t tell you—but you must go. And you must leave town, too.

Herb. I can’t leave town on two dollars unless I tramp it. And that puts me back beyond hope. If I could only get to Chicago. Times are improving and I might get work.

Flo. How much do you need?

Herb. I couldn’t do with less than twenty dollars.

Flo. And I’ve been such an extravagant little goose. I’ve spent all my money. My jewels—

Herb. (Starting.) Jewels! My God, don’t mention jewels!

Flo. Pardon me Herbie, I forgot.

Herb. Rachel always has money.

Flo. But it is all in the savings bank. She deposited to day.

Herb. I’ll wait till to-morrow.

Flo. No, no, you must not wait till to-morrow. You must go to-night.

Herb. (Bitter feeling returning.) But why are you all so anxious to get rid of me. I’ll go soon enough.

Flo. I can’t tell you! Papa—

Herb. (Starting.) I remember now. (Bitterly.) Prison! He threatened me. No, there is no place here for me.

Flo. There is no way but the jewels. Papa gave me a necklace.

Herb. Never! I’ll never touch his money after that threat. I’ll tramp first. Perhaps he’d like to have his son a tramp. Perhaps the people of this town would like to see me further disgraced, curse them.

Flo. Herbert! Herbert, how can you speak so? But you must go.

Herb. Yes, I must go. Ha! ha! I’ll go. The governor will soon be back from the lodge and he—no I can’t say anything against him for I have wronged him too deeply. (Pause, looks at her ring.) Florence, that ring is worth one hundred dollars. I could easy get twenty on it.

Flo. But that is his ring, my engagement ring. I couldn’t part with that.

Herb. No, of course not, Flossie. Forgive me for suggesting such a thing. I’ll try to get along somehow.

Flo. Go to the next town, keep quiet, and I’ll send the money.

Herb. Everybody knows me there.

Enter Vance, R., unobserved, stops surprised.

Flo. Of course! I could meet you somewhere. (Vance surprised stops.)

Herb. That might be arranged, but where?

Flo. I’m afraid I couldn’t get away to-morrow. (Vance puzzled, moves as if to go out.)

Herb. Dear Flossie, I’ll leave it all to you. You are my only hope. (Vance struck with suspicion stops, then stands like a statue.)

Flo. Herbert, I shall never give you up, no matter what happens. I think of you night and day. (Vance hand to head with gesture of anguish.) Pshaw! this is no time for hesitation. (Takes off ring.) Take this! If he misses it I’ll make some excuse. It’s easy enough to put him off. (They go L.)

Vance. (With anguish, low tone.) Oh God! my ring!

Flo. (Turns, sees V., screams.) Oh! Mr. Vance, how you startle me! Why did you come in that way?

Vance. (In husky voice.) I startle you! Heaven help me! What have you done to me? Stabbed me to the heart.

Flo. Oh, Mr. Vance, please—

Vance. Save your words, false woman, traitress, shameless creature, you drove me away to meet him here. (Flo. totters back grasping chair. Vance advances in a furious passion.) Oh the shame! Woman! woman! (She shrinks back speechless.) I could strangle such a viper. (Drops his hands, head falls on breast.) No, I can’t strike her for I loved her. Traitress, farewell! (Flo. drops senseless.)

Herb. Help! Rachel! (Dropping on knees beside Flo., raises her head.) Coward! Wretch! You shall answer for this.

Vance. (With passionate scorn and deliberation.) Yes, I’ll answer, and I’ll kill you at sight like a dog.

Quick Curtain.

ACT. II.

Scene—Mining camp in Rocky Mountains. Cabin set to show interior. Door R. in 1. Rude cot near R. corner, and another in L.; stove with skillet against rear wall, L. C.; plank cupboard against side wall R.; window flat between stove and cot; rough pine table down C., with seats at either side, of sawed log; rough chair, rocks on table, gun on hooks, L.; overalls, etc., on floor and on nails; coffee pot, very dirty towel, etc., etc. Pay Streak discovered as curtain rises, sewing buttons on overalls, business of threading needle and tangling thread.

Pay S. That pesky thread is enough to rile ole Job, I reckon. It takes my pard to sew on buttons. He goes at it ’sif he’d been a tailor in his time. He’s the coolest cuss in camp anyway. Wy, when we struck it rich in the “Little Lucy” lode what did he do? Jump round an’ holler an’ say, “Boys, we’ve got it bigger’n an elephant?” Nary time; jest said, “I ’low if it holds out we’re pretty well heeled.” Didn’t seem to care whether it held out or not. Bet yer boots I care. I’ve been poor as a church mouse too long not to care. What did I do when I seen the assay went $500 to the ton? Wy, I jist slipped over to ole man Baker’s place an’ asked the Grouse if she’d like to hitch. I was afraid o’ that cuss from Tenderfoot Gulch, that Lonesome Mose. He’s struck it, too. What d’ye s’pose she said? “Pay Streak, what does she go to the ton?” “Five hundred, Mollie,” sez I, awful anxious, fur I didn’t know what Mose’s assay showed. An says the Grouse, “I’ll think about it, Jim.” Called me Jim instead o’ Pay Streak. I couldn’t stand that, an’ cust if I didn’t give her a smack ’at sounded like a giant cap bustin’. She didn’t git very mad, an’ then I knowed it was good as settled. (Pulls at thread and breaks it.) Cuss that thread! I reckon that’ll hold till Mollie takes charge o’ my traps. (Lawton raps at door, with cane, R.)

Pay S. Come in, stranger!

Law. Is this Vance & Rogers’ place?

Pay S. It is; step right in; there ain’t no call to rap at any miner’s door in the Rocky Mountains, but of course you don’t know that, bein’ a tenderfoot.

Law. Oh, yes, I know that a miner’s door is always open. Are you Rogers?

Pay S. Correct y’are! Squat. (Wipes off chair with towel.)

Law. This is just as good. (Seats himself on one of logs, Pay S. on the other.) Are you the man they call Pay Streak?

Pay S. That’s my sobriquet (sobrikwet), as the editor calls it. The boys called me Pay Streak because I’ve a way o’ askin’ how wide the pay streak is when they git to talkin’ about their claims. I al’ays look at the pay streak first. A man’s the same as a mine; when ye’ve seen the width of his pay streak, ye’ve got his measure.

Law. It’s not a bad name, either.

Pay S. Becherlife it aint. Some sense in it. Now if they’d called me Lonesome Mose as they do that inexorable cuss over in Tenderfoot Gulch I’d a killed a few of them jist to change my luck.

Law. I hear you boys have struck it rich.

Pay S. Bigger’n a four-hoss team an’ band wagon, stranger.

Law. Let me see, what is your partner’s full name?

Pay S. Vance! Harvey Vance! The boys call him “Old Silence” ’cause he says mighty little an’ don’t talk no minin’ guff about his claims.

Law. Where does he hail from?

Pay S. Illinois.

Law. Where is he to-day? I believe I know him.

Pay S. (Jumping up.) What! you know my pard, stranger! Now why did ye go beatin’ round the bush? That aint a square deal! Why didn’t ye jist walk in an’ hang up yer hat? Take that there chair! No, but ye must. (Law takes chair.) We haint much hyur, but all we got belongs to any friends o’ Old Silence. Scuse me, I mean your friend Vance.

Law. Oh, that’s all right, no apologies.

Pay S. Stranger, I’m cussed glad to see you. Shake! Wy, we’ve been hyur two year and never a soul come along that was an old friend. I’ve a whole raft o’ kin in Missouri, but none of ’em drifts to this camp. You kin bet yer liver, pard’ll be glad to see ye.

Law. I hope so, it’s a good while since I saw him.

Pay S. I’ll bet my share in the Little Lucy—an’ we was offered $100,000 last week fur it—that my pardner haint any friends he’s ashamed of.

Law. No, he isn’t that kind.

Pay S. That’s straight! ye can’t tell me nothin’ about him an’ his outfit. Anything he says goes, on this hill. That’s ’cause he doesn’t say much.

Law. Where is Mr. Vance to-day?

Pay S. I was jist wonderin’ myself, when you dropped in. The gun aint gone so I ’low he isn’t far away.

Law. Could I have a short talk with him privately?

Pay S. Could you talk with him privately? Stranger, hain’t I jist said this place was your’n. When he comes I’ll vamoose quick, savvy? I ’low he’s out at the Lucy lookin’ at the truck. Pard, it’s good fur sore eyes to look at that truck, $500 to the ton.

Law. I might walk out and meet him, if you don’t object.

Pay S. Object! Stranger, really ye’re not talkin’ on the square. How could I object. Wy, the mountain’s your’n! Everything in sight is your’n!

Law. Thank you, Pay Streak! By the way, what is your full name?

Pay S. Rogers, Jim Rogers. I’ll take ye to the Lucy. No, I recken you want to see him private. (Goes to door.) Well, foller the path straight ahead about two hundred yards.

Law. Thank you, Mr. Rogers. I’ll see you again.

Pay S. Krect. (Exit Law R.) I’ll bet he’s a financer an’ wants to buy the Little Lucy. Well, he can’t. She has a pay streak wuth talkin’ about, two feet wide an’ five hundred to the ton. (Looks out.) Great guns, if they aint ladies a comin’! Wonder if they’ll stop here fur a drink o’ water or anything? I haint been in society sence I left Missouri. I’ll be shot if it aint the Grouse an’—an’ a strange lady. The Grouse is comin’ to take us by s’prise. This place is in a nice ruction fur company. Haint made my bed yet. (Runs to bed R., turns up the blankets and tries to smooth out the pillow.) That pillar’s harder’n one o’ Lonesome Mose’s flapjacks. (Hammers at pillow.) Ought ter been filled at the sawmill long ago. An’ that towel aint been washed fur a month. (Flips towel under the bed.) I’ll git one o’ Vance’s towels. (Takes clean towel out of cupboard and hangs it across chair back.) Pard’s a purty good cook but he aint in it washin’ dishes. Them plates looks tough. (Picks up plates from table, drops knife, picks that up and drops plate, which breaks.) Damn it! (Picks up pieces, throws the whole into cupboard with a bang, closes door.) Look at that skillet, an’ fried onions, too, scentin’ the whole mountain. Wher’n thunder kin I put them? I guess that’s about the place fur them. (Tosses skillet out of window.) There, I s’pose that’s the best I kin do on short notice. (Sits on log and pretends to be reading old soiled paper, rap at door.) Come in!

Enter Grouse and Flo.

Grouse. Hello, Mr. Rogers!

Pay S. Well, I’ll be—(catches himself) this is a s’prise, Grouse.

Grouse. Miss Baker if you please, Mr. Rogers.

Pay S. (Surprised.) Oh—of course! Excuse me. No offense I hope, Miss Baker.

Grouse. Mr. Rogers, let me interduce Miss Lawton. She’s travelin’ to see the mountains.

Pay S. (Bows awkwardly.) I’m awful glad to see you, Miss Lawton. You take the chair. Grouse, I reckon you’ll have to squat on a log.

Grouse. (Sitting on table.) Jim Rogers, where’s yer manners? Nicknames don’t go afore company.

Pay S. No, of course not. (To Flo.) I beg pardon, Miss Lawton, but ye see all the miners called her the Rocky Mountain Grouse, long ago when she was a little tot.

Grouse. (Making face.) Long ago! I like that. I s’pose I’m old Methusalem now.

Pay S. (Embarrassed.) Now looky hyur, Grouse—I mean Miss Mollie Baker, what ails ye? I didn’t mean nothin’. Ye’re techy as powder to-day. (To Flo.) Excuse me, Miss, but I’m a little off on talkin’ to ladies. Haint been in society sence I left Joplin, Missouri, five years ago.

Flo. Oh, don’t be formal, Mr. Rogers, I like the mountain ways.

Pay S. Wy, to be sure, the mountains is best, lots of room, lots of rocks, lots of—of everything. I say, Miss Lawton, kin I show you Little Lucy? She’s a daisy.

Flo. (Surprised.) Little Lucy! I don’t understand.

Grouse. Pay Streak, you are a greeny. What d’ye s’pose the lady knows about your lingo. (To Flo.) The Little Lucy’s a mine.

Flo. (Laughing.) I should be delighted to see Lucy but I can not to-day, thank you.

Pay S. Oh well, any day’ll do. Besides my pardner, I reckon he could talk to ye. He’s a lady’s man.

Flo. (Nervously.) Oh no! I saw the mines at Leadville. I just wanted to say that there’s a man looking for Mr.—for your partner and—

Pay S. Yes, Miss, I told him where to find him.

Flo. (Trying to appear calm.) You told him! Miss Baker, they musn’t meet.

Grouse. Now you have done it, Jim. They were lookin’ fur each other.

Pay S. Holy Moses! How did I know they was lookin’ fur each other?

Grouse. Pay Streak, have you been in the mountains five years an’ don’t know what a man means when he says he’s lookin’ fur somebody? You don’t know enough to pound sand in a rat hole.

Pay S. (Scratching his head.) Well, I don’t, ladies, an’ that’s a fact. Why cuss it! (To Flo.) Excuse me, Miss, I may haf to actooally swear afore this job’s over. But how could I know that that slick chap was lookin’ fur pard? He only said he wanted to see him.

Grouse. Well, he mustn’t.

Flo. Oh no, Mr. Rogers—I—I can’t tell you why, but they must not meet.

Pay S. (Bowing awkwardly.) Bet yer life you don’t need to tell why. When a lady says she wants a thing that’s enough fur me. I aint askin’ why. (Admiring glance at Grouse.)

Grouse. Then don’t stand like a dummy. Git a gait on an’ stop ’em afore—

Pay S. Wont I, great guns! (Gets revolver and belt from under pillow.) I’ll stop ’em if I have to take a hand in the game myself.

Flo. (Alarmed.) Oh no, Mr. Rogers! Please don’t do that!

Pay S. (Surprised.) No? Then I wont. I’ll jist argy pardner out of it; I aint much on talk, but I’m used to him.

Flo. An’ I’ll be so grateful!

Pay S. Don’t mention it, Miss. (Struck with idea.) I’ll convince pardner an’ then we’ll both convince tother chap if we have to pump him full o’ lead to do it.

Flo. Oh, not that, either. You must not do anything.

Pay S. (Puzzled.) Well, I’ll be—this is a puzzler. I give it up.

Grouse. Why don’t you go, Jim? Don’t stand there like a mud hen on a log.

Pay S. I’ll vamoose instanter, savvy? (Exits hastily R.)

Flo. Miss Baker, you’ll think this very strange.

Grouse. Not a bit, Miss. I’ve been there.

Flo. (Surprised.) But I mean—

Grouse. Never mind. Jim’ll straighten it all out. And if you don’t want to meet Mr. Vance, you’d better skip right off, fur he’s liable to turn up any minnit. There haint been no shootin’ yet or we’d heard it.

Flo. Oh, I’m so glad. I’ll go now and you wait to bring me word.

Grouse. But you may meet tother one on the mountain.

Flo. I want to meet him. One word would fix it all right. (Exit.)

Grouse. Well, I never! These fine ladies play a big game. Keeps both on the hooks till they git fightin’ mad an’ then goes tearin’ round tryin’ to make peace. Humph! Wants to meet tother one. Well, I s’pose he’s the one an’ Vance gits left. I’m awful sorry for Vance fur he’s white an’ Jim likes him awful well. (Sits on table and swings feet.) That comes o’ havin’ too many fellers at onct. I’ve been there, but I reckon I shipped Lonesome Mose jist in time. Good Lord, only think o’ Pay Streak an’ Lonesome Mose cavortin’ round the mountains lookin’ for each other. Why, it makes Jim hot fur me even to mention Mose. There’s a good deal worse than Mose, but I wouldn’t look at him beside Jim. I’ve been dreamin’ o’ Jim ever since we led the ball at Cottonwood Pass two years ago last winter. If anything ’ud happen Jim—well, the Rocky Mountain Grouse wouldn’t fly so high, that’s all. But it wouldn’t do for me to tell him all that. A little at a time kind o’ keeps a man lookin’ for more an’ then Jim’s sort o’ gone on himself an’ it would make him sassy. (Looks out.) Why, there he comes runnin’.

Enter Pay S., R.

Pay S. (Breathlessly.) Run all the way an’ back. Can’t find ’em nowhere. Where’s she?

Grouse. Gone. She’s a sly one.

Pay S. There yer off yer lead. She’ll run away up on assay.

Grouse. I didn’t mean that. She’s playin’ two suckers at onct, I guess.

Pay S. I don’t b’lieve it. That woman’s no coquette (cokwet).

Grouse. Why, she said so herself.

Pay S. No!

Grouse. Fact! But she’s had a lesson. She’s run to the end of the tether an’ she knows which ’un she’ll take.

Pay S. Then it’s my pard, sure.

Grouse. Taint nether.

Pay S. Why, tother one is old enough to be her pap.

Grouse. Don’t care if he is. Them city gals don’t care fur age. They jist look at the rocks.

Pay S. Well, pardner’ll have plenty of stuff when we git the Lucy goin’ two shifts a day. Say, Grouse, why didn’t ye mention that to her an’ say a good word fur pardner?

Grouse. Mention that! To her! Land o’ twilight! It’s a heap you know about women.

Pay S. (Puts arm round her waist.) I know they are sweeter than all creation.

Grouse. (Withdrawing.) Oh, you do, do you?

Pay S. (Shoving closer to her on table.) I mean there’s one that is ole peaches an’ honey. (Tries to kiss her.)

Grouse. (Slaps him, but not very defiantly.) Pay Streak, I al’ays thought you’d some sense.

Pay S. Bet yer boots I know a good thing. Say, I’m awful sorry for pard. I cotton to that gal.

Grouse. Indeed! Then I’d better clear the way.

Pay S. (Hastily.) I mean fur him. I believe she’s actooally good enough fur him.

Grouse. It’s no use. He is off the lead. Tother chap’s campin’ on the claim. All ye kin do now is keep him away from tother one.

Pay S. How’ll I do it? Where the deuce is pardner, anyway? He went out after breakfast an’ never said anything about goin’ away.

Grouse. We’ll fix up a scheme. I’m sort o’ sorry for her. She’s awful anxious.

Pay S. (Enthusiastically.) Yes, I’d do anything fur her.

Grouse. (Looks meaningly.) Oh, indeed!

Pay S. I mean fur your sake, Mollie. Say, it’s awful nice to call you Mollie, savvy?

Grouse. Jim, ye’re silly. Why don’t you try to think.

Pay S. I jist can’t when you are hyur. You think.

Grouse. Well, where do you guess Vance is?

Pay S. You didn’t meet him goin’ to town, so he must ’a gone over the mountain to look at the Jumbo.

Grouse. Then I’ll tell ye what to do. You take the gun an’ meet him an’ say that the jumpers are after pap’s claim again over in the basin.

Pay S. He’ll want me to go ’long then.

Grouse. Tell him you are goin’ back to camp fur more men.

Pay S. I’ll be cust! The very thing. (Gets gun.)

Grouse. An’ do hurry. I’ll wait till you come back. I’m gittin’ skeered.

Pay S. Don’t you worry. Jist let any body sass you an’ I’ll—

Grouse. Do go on, quick! (Pushes him out.) It’s downright silly the way men act about women, wantin’ to shoot and sayin’ they’ll die. Humph! An’ a woman, she can’t do nothin’ but git scart an’ cry an’ carry on. I do hope he’ll git Vance away. It serves her right, though, to git a good scare; she’ll know how it is herself. (Knocking at door, Grouse starts.) Come in!

Herbert at door.

Herb. Whose cabin is this?

Grouse. It’s Rogers & Vance’s, owners of the Little Lucy.

Herb. Is Mr. Vance around?

Grouse. He ain’t fur away, I guess. Will Rogers do? He’s jist gone. I kin call him back, but he’s in a powerful hurry.

Herb. Don’t call him, I’ll drop in again. Could you give me a drink of water?

Grouse. Certingly, come in! (Herb. steps inside, she gets dipperful of water from pail, he drinks.)

Herb. Thank you, very much.

Grouse. Don’t mention it. (Looks at him.) You’re a tenderfoot, I guess!

Herb. (Smiles.) Yes, that is, I have been in Colorado only six months. They told me of this Vance over at Dead Man’s Gulch. (Rests foot on log.)

Grouse. Did you want to see him pertickler?

Herb. Rather particular, yes.

Grouse. If it’s business, Rogers knows.

Herb. It’s a private matter. Perhaps he is at the Lucy?

Grouse. He’s most likely at the Jumbo. Take the trail straight up an’ it’s jist over the ridge.

Herb. Thank you, I’ll meet him perhaps. Good day. (Exit H., R.)

Grouse. Pr’aps ye wont. I wonder who’ll be wantin’ Vance next? He’s peaceable, I guess. Wants to buy the mine mebbe. If he had been an old man—(Pause.) Great Jerusalem! I’ll bet we’re clean off the lead, digging away in country rock. S’pose that is the feller ’at’s lookin fur Vance. That gal wouldn’t leave no young feller like Vance fur an old man. An’ I’ve told! Well, I’m a bigger fool than I said Jim was. (Runs around.) I’m excited now! This is a case, sure! Minds me of the time Slim Jim shot Club Foot Pete fur cheatin’ at kyards, when pap kep’ the tavern at Cottonwood Pass. Pap was jist reachin’ fur his gun when Pete kind o’ staggered an’ threw up his hands like that, and says he: “Baker, I’m done fur—I pass.” Them was his last words.

Enter Pay S., excitedly, R.

Pay S. I can’t find nobody nowhere!

Grouse. Pay Streak, you’re a fool!

Pay S. (Nettled.) S’pose I am, what’s the use o’ tellin’ me every five minutes.

Grouse. Cause you are, you can’t see an inch from yer nose. Wat did ye say he was an old man, fur?

Pay S. Cause he was!

Grouse. He aint ether, an’ we might a knowed it. He’s been hyur, an’ he’s a young feller.

Pay S. A young feller lookin’ fur my pardner?

Grouse. Yes, lookin’ fur him pertikler.

Pay S. When it comes to that, if there’s any fly young feller ’round this hill lookin’ fur somebody, he’ll find a man sure. Mebbe he’ll find me afore he quits. If he wants a scrap, he needn’t wear out shoe leather lookin’ fur it in Ruby Camp.

Grouse. (Seriously.) Pay Streak, don’t you take up nobody else’s rows till ye haf to. You’ll find enough o’ yer own in this world. I’ve seen more o’ these mountains than you have. Pap kep’ tavern fur years at the Pass, an’ I’ve seen shootin’ scrapes enough. I seen Club Foot Pete killed, an’ it’s an awful sight when it’s right afore yer eyes.

Pay S. I ain’t a lookin’ fur anybody.

Grouse. But what’ll we do?

Pay S. I don’t know.

Grouse. We’ve got to do somethin’.

Pay S. Well, Mollie, wat’s your idee?

Grouse. Go down to camp right away, an’ tell pap an’ git some o’ the miners out. Pretend it’s jumpers over in the Basin.

Pay S. Will you go ’long to camp?

Grouse. No, I’ll wait hyur for Vance. If he comes I’ll send him to the Basin.

Pay S. (Going.) I’ll round ’em up.

Grouse. An’ give that strange feller a tip that it ’ud be healthier fur him to take the next stage back to Dead Man’s Gulch.

Pay S. Stage! Humph! walkin’s good that direction. (Exit hurriedly R.)

Grouse. Men’s all fools, I guess. Fightin’ about claims an’ women as if there wasn’t plenty o’ both to go round. Women’s bigger fools to egg ’em on. I needn’t brag, ether. S’pose I’d drawed on Lonesome Mose a little furder, there’d been music in camp.

Enter Vance, R.

Vance. Hello, Grouse, you here!

Grouse. I guess so, ye see me, don’t ye?

Vance. I have that pleasure. (She courtsies.) You are waiting to see Jim of course. Where is that boy, anyway?

Grouse. (With toss of head.) Waitin’ fur Jim. I guess not. When I wait fur a man I wait at home.

Vance. Of course, Miss Baker, no offense.

Grouse. Where in creation have you been all mornin’?

Vance. I felt out of sorts and I went over to the mineral spring to take a good drink of that water.

Grouse. I’ll bet you are the first man in Ruby Camp that ever walked two miles fur a drink o’ water.

Vance. I like to watch the silver bubbles boiling up from the clear depths.

Grouse. Well, I don’t go much on them silver bubbles. The silver in em’s too thin. Did ye meet anybody?

Vance. (Laughs.) Yes, Lonesome Mose going to his claim. He looks lonesomer than ever, lately. (Meaning look at her.)

Grouse. Humph! Lonesome Mose! I mean, didn’t ye meet nobody at all?

Vance. Nobody else. (At stove.) Any one lookin’ for me? Where’s our skillet? I want to get dinner.

Grouse. (Impatiently.) I don’t know nothin’ about yer ole skillet. Say, Mr. Vance, did you know any young ladies in Illinois?

Vance. (Surprised.) Why, to be sure, plenty of them. (Looking.) What on earth has become of that skillet? I’m as hungry as a wolf.

Grouse. That’s like a man, he’d haf to eat if he died next minnit.

Vance. He’d die if he didn’t.

Grouse. Dyin’ with yer boots on aint so funny.

Vance. (Surprised.) Why, what do you mean, Miss Baker. You seem excited.

Grouse. (Laughs.) I aint the kind to git excited bad. (He looks inquiringly.) An’ ye don’t know any pertickler young lady?

Vance. (With serious tone.) Mollie, every man in his time has known some particular young lady. Sometimes she is too particular and sometimes not particular enough.

Grouse. I guess this un’s jist about right.

Vance. (Starting.) What do you mean, Mollie? Any lady in camp that knows me?

Grouse. (Laughing.) It ’pears so. She’s been hyur.

Vance. Here! Did she want to see me?

Grouse. No, she didn’t want to see you.

Vance. Then why the deuce did she come here! There’s some mistake. (Turns to look for skillet.) I wish Jim would let the cooking outfit alone.

Grouse. Never mind yer ole skillet. I thought mebbe you’d meet her on the road.

Vance. (At cupboard.) Jim is very careless. He has been chucking things round again.

Grouse. You’re a nice man to prefer a skillet to a young lady.

Vance. (Surprised.) Excuse me, Grouse, I thought we were good enough friends to be informal. I’ll not look for the skillet any more.

Grouse. I’m talkin’ about her. She was a bute.

Vance. Since she did not want to see me I hardly think I am interested in her beauty.

Grouse. It’s too funny that you didn’t meet anybody. They’re lookin’ fur you all over the mountain to go to the Basin. Jim said ye must go right off. The Leadville outfit is tryin’ to jump pap’s claim agin.

Vance. I don’t believe that. It must be a false report.

Grouse. But it aint! Git yer gun and take the trail. Ye kin git dinner at Jack’s cabin.

Vance. Why Mollie, Lonesome Mose was in the Basin yesterday and he says the Leadville gang have all gone.

Grouse. (With petulance.) Lonesome Mose, indeed! As if pap didn’t know better about his own claim. Would you put Mose Randall’s word up agin’ pap’s er a lady’s?

Vance. Well, Mollie, I didn’t mean to contradict you. I’ll enquire as soon as I get a bite to eat.

Grouse. An’ yer goin’ to wait to eat?

Vance. Yes, I’ll take a snack.

Grouse. Some men ’ud eat if an earthquake was comin’.

Vance. I can easily catch them before they get to Jack’s cabin.

Grouse. An’ ye wont go now? Oh do, please, Mr. Vance.

Vance. I don’t see the necessity of starving.

Grouse. I do.

Vance. Ever try it?

Grouse. Please don’t wait, Mr. Vance.

Vance. It won’t take fifteen minutes.

Grouse. Well, they’s no use tryin’ to do anything with a man—or a mule. I’ve got to do something. (Starts hastily.)

Vance. What’s the rush? Hold on, Miss Baker.

Grouse. I wont! (Exit R.)

Vance. What on earth ails the Grouse. She always was a kitten and I’m afraid she has a temper. Jim’ll have to hold a pretty steady rein. (Looking round for skillet.) I guess that skillet has taken wings. There’s Jim’s dirty towel under the bed and my clean one on the chair back. There has been some one here I guess. I wonder if any sneak thief has paid us a visit? (Looks at Jim’s pillow.) His revolver is gone. (Looks at his own cot.) Mine is all right. (Puts his pistol on table.)

Herbert knocks at door.

Vance. Hello stranger! Come in!

Herb. Is this Mr. Vance’s place?

Vance. My name is Vance.

Herb. (Advances. With meaning.) I’ve been looking for you.

Vance. (Surprised.) Indeed! You have found me, it seems. Your business, if I may enquire?

Herb. I guess you know my business. A lady’s honor.

Vance. (Starting.) A lady’s honor! (Recognizes him.) And you seek me? So much the better.

Herb. I come from her to demand an explanation for your language and conduct.

Vance. (Slowly as if with effort.) You come to me, and from her? Why, you infamous scoundrel—

Herb. Hold! Don’t waste words, Mr. Vance. What you say of me can be settled some other time. On her behalf—

Vance. And you insult me with the mention of that heartless, base woman.

Herb. (With deep, quiet indignation.) Stop or I’ll kill you on the spot. (Draws pistol.) Only blood can wipe out that insult.

Vance. You are right. I have waited long for this meeting.

Herb. Are you armed?

Vance. (Taking up pistol.) As good a 38 as ever came to the camp. We’ll go up into the pine woods.

Herb. Why not here in front of your cabin.

Vance. We may be interrupted.

Herb. Exactly! I am already suspected and warned to leave camp instantly.

Vance. Then we must use dispatch. (Looks out.) There are people coming now, down yonder. Here will do as well.

Herb. As you please, I am ready.

Vance. (Closes door, fastens it with latch.) Take your place at the door. (V. goes to opposite wall.) I’ll stand here. I’ll count one, two, three.

Herb. Is that fair?

Vance. Then you count.

Herb. I want no advantage. Toss for count.

Vance. All right! (Produces coin.) Head or tail?

Herb. Head!

Vance. (Tossing coin on table.) Head! (tosses) tail! (tosses) head! You win. (They take position.) I’ll pull exactly at three. (At word three, a scream is heard outside. Vance fires but Herbert is disconcerted and, staggering, fires wild shot. Pay S. bursts door open. Flo. and Grouse in door.)

Pay S. Stop that, instantly!

Vance. It is done! (Herb. grasping side staggers.)

Pay S. My God, he is dying. (Seizes Herb.’s arm and leads him to bed, R.)

Flo. (Clings to him at other side.) Herbert! my poor brother! Speak! Herbert! (Throws herself on cot, seizing his hands.)

Vance. (Who has stood like a statue, drops pistol mechanically, like a man stricken.) Her brother! Oh God, too late!

Tableau.

Herb. on cot; Flo. bending over him; Vance L. with right hand on table, head drooping; Rogers back of table regarding him; Grouse R. C. regarding Vance.

Curtain.

ACT III.

Scene—Reception room of tourist hotel, Florida; folding doors in flat C.; piano by wall, R.; settee by wall, L., table C. littered with old periodicals, and some oranges in basket; R. R., and steamship advts. on the walls; chairs ad lib; big ox horns, stuffed bird, alligator, or other familiar hotel trapping. If not convenient to have door in flat, entrance may be at either side, by re-arrangement of furniture. Doors always open. Florence and Rachel discovered as curtain rises.

Flo. Rachel, how do you like your first experience down South?

Rachel. It is all so odd.

Flo. Are you enjoying it?

Rach. Oh, so much. I always wanted to travel. I never hoped to get such a trip as this. The trees and everything are so different.

Flo. It is much stranger still in Mexico; if you could only have seen that.

Rach. I’ll never forget your kindness in giving me this trip.

Flo. Thank papa, Rachel, I was selfish and didn’t want any maid. It looks foolish for a girl like me to have a maid.

Rach. It’s no harm. Mr. Lawton wants you to get strong again.

Flo. (Rather sadly.) Rachel, don’t you think I am strong?

Rach. Oh, yes! You look much better lately.

Enter Mr. Law., D. F.

Law. I’ve been looking for you, daughter. What is your programme for to-day? A drive or a sail?

Flo. I don’t care which, papa, I enjoy everything that pleases you.

Law. But I want you to choose for yourself. I am such an old traveler I have seen about everything.

Flo. What do you say, Rachel?

Rach. Laws! Miss Flossie, it ain’t for me to choose.

Flo. But what do you like? Are you afraid of the water?

Rach. I don’t know. Do they get sea sick?

Law. Not on the river. Florence, they are catching chameleons now in the garden.

Flo. Oh, I want to see them! (Exit D. F.)

Rach. So do I! (Going D. F.)

Law. Rachel!

Rach. Sir!

Law. Come here, I want to speak to you. I have made an important discovery.

Rach. Land sakes! none of the trunks missing?

Law. (Laughs.) The trunks are all right. I’ve found somebody here that Florence knows!

Rach. Who?

Law. That Colorado partner of—of you know whom.

Rach. Dear me! how’d he get so far?

Law. He is here on his wedding trip. In this hotel. Do you think Flossie would like to meet them?

Rach. I don’t know. It might worry her and—

Law. Recall the old times! Just what I thought. But then, she might be glad to see them. They were very kind to her. Rough people, but good as gold. He is putting on style. Best rooms in the house!

Rach. Hadn’t we better keep clear of them for a day or two and sort of prepare her for it?

Law. But how can you in a hotel like this? Everybody sees everybody else. If we weren’t fatigued already, I’d go on to Lake Worth to-day.

Rach. Then the best way is to ask her right out, whether she cares to see them.

Law. I know her answer. She’ll think it a duty.

Rach. The sooner the better then, I think.

Law. Very well, I’ll go and talk to her. (Exit D. F.)

Rach. Well aint that odder’n Dick’s hatband! The idee of meeting people from the four quarters of the globe. These tourists seem to keep on forever running to and fro on the earth. How can they afford it? Money goes like water! I never dreamed o’ such expense! (Sees oranges on table.) And an orange here aint nothin’ more than a potato was where I was raised. I’m going to take one! (Takes orange.)

Enter Herb., suddenly, D. F.; Rachel, surprised, looks guilty and starts out quickly, D. F.

Herb. (Excitedly.) Rachel!

Rach. Mr. Herbert—what is it?

Herb. Where’s Flossie? (Lowering voice.)

Rach. In the garden.

Herb. I must find her at once! It is very important.

Rach. Yes, I know.

Herb. You know! Have you seen him?

Rach. Him? Who?

Herb. Why Vance, of course!

Rach. (Startled.) Mercy me! Mr. Herbert, is he here?

Herb. Yes, and may meet her any minute!

Rach. (Excitedly.) That might give her a relapse. She’s awfully nervous yet.

Herb. I know it. What can we do?

Rach. We must get her away at once!

Herb. I have a different idea.

Rach. What is that?

Herb. I’ll make him explain his conduct or—

Rach. Oh Herbie, please don’t think of that! Remember what happened before! Those miners are dreadful men! He’ll kill you, sure!

Herb. He’ll not get a chance! I’ll get the drop and he can apologize or do worse. I’ll find him at once.

Rach. Oh Herbert, don’t. (Grasps his arm.)

Herb. Let me go. I’ll not endure such an insult to my sister. As long as he took me for some one else he had an excuse, but now that he knows I am her brother, his conduct is infamous. (Going D. F.)

Rach. (Trying to restrain him.) But your father—speak to him first.

Herb. Father would call him to account if they met.

Rach. But he would not hurt your father. They never quarreled.

Herb. He shall answer for his conduct.

Rach. Oh, think of her—she loves him yet.

Herb. I am thinking of her. The traitor! (Goes hurriedly D. F. pushing Rachel aside.)

Rach. (Excitedly.) What shall I do? Oh, where is Mr. Lawton? Another such shock will kill her. I must find Mr. Lawton immediately. (Exit Rach. rapidly as

Enter Rogers and Wife, L., runs against R., and drops orange.)

Rog. Beg pardon, madam! (She never stops.) Cuss it, that gal’s crazy.

Mrs. R. Jim, you must quit swearin’.

Rog. I’m tryin’ my level best. Cuss it isn’t swearin’ at all. Say, Mollie, aint this great?

Mrs. R. What’s great?

Rog. Why, this country an’ everything. Oranges right on the trees till they’re yaller as gold, an’ strawberries in February. (Picks orange from floor.)

Mrs. R. I haint seen any strawberries, Jim. They’re not on the table.

Rog. Well no, of course not. They go north to sell. Ye couldn’t expect to see ’em on the table.

Mrs. R. Why not? What’s the use of havin’ money if it won’t buy things as soon as other people gets ’em an’ as good?

Rog. I reckon that’s right, but ye see these Floridy people figger both ways. The hotel makes ye pay fur the berries jist the same as if ye got ’em an’ then sells ’em fur market. Savvy?

Mrs. R. I’m sick an’ tired o’ bacon an’ canned stuff. Had ’em all my life in the Rocky Mountains.

Rog. But Mollie, jist think o’ the other curus things, the palmettos an’ the alligators—

Mrs. R. We can’t eat the alligators.

Rog. But we kin take one home in a cigyar box.

Mrs. R. Indeed we wont. It makes me tired to see people trottin’ round with a lot o’ hand bags and Florida canes.

Rog. Made in New York—

Mrs. R. An’ alligators in boxes, smellin’ like fury. Women doin’ it, too! An’ fussin over chameleons an’ carryin’ green cocoanuts home. As if sich things were of any account out o’ their right place.

Rog. There’s another thing, Mollie, ’at makes me still tireder.

Mrs. R. What’s that?

Rog. Eatin’ fish. We’ve had ’em three times a day ever sence we’ve been in Floridy. I reckon we’ll haf to eat all the fish in Injun river, an’ there’s a slew of ’em. Wy, a man told me this mornin’ ’at sometimes they was so thick in the river that ye couldn’t row a boat. Oars jist slipped over solid fish as if the river was greased.

Mrs. R. Jim, that man took you fur a tenderfoot.

Rog. Mebbe so. As I don’t know much about Floridy I couldn’t dispute him, but I up an’ told him about that time the mountain lions were so plenty in the Gunnison country ’at we had to kick ’em away from round the fire afore we could git breakfast, an’ we couldn’t tell when it thundered fur their infernal roarin’. I put that at him as a sort of a feeler.

Mrs. R. Jim, I’m sick o’ the whole business.

Rog. (With feeling.) Say now, Mollie, ye don’t mean it. On yer weddin’ trip an’ tired of it? (Caressing her.) Mollie, ye don’t mean me too, do you?

Mrs. R. (Smiling.) No, Jim, I don’t mean you, but I’m tired bein’ stared at an’ pointed out.

Rog. Wy Mollie, d’ye s’pose they’re onto our racket?

Mrs. R. Jim, your slang is dreadful. Can’t you drop a little of it. Of course everybody can see that we are bride and groom.

Rog. How on earth can they tell?

Mrs. R. Humph! An’ you that spoony—

Rog. Then it’s me that makes ye tired, an’ my ways. (Sadly.) Mollie, you don’t know what you have said. Ye’re ashamed o’ me.

Mrs. R. No, I am not, Jim. I am not ashamed of anything, but I am disgusted. People talk nice to our faces and laugh at us behind our backs.

Rog. Why, cuss ’em. I could buy the whole caboodle of ’em.

Mrs. R. No, ye couldn’t, Jim. These people have money, and what’s more, they are used to it, and get the worth of their money travelin’. We don’t.

Rog. Worth o’ their money! How does that old skate git the worth o’ his money who goes trottin’ round with what he calls a vally de shamber to put his clothes on? Mollie, I never want nobody puttin’ my clothes on me. Why, it aint decent. When I git as wuthless as that cuss, I want ’em to take me out an’ lynch me.

Mrs. R. But when that man orders anything, the waiters get it at once.

Rog. So they do fur us. I plunk down a dollar an’ they git a gait on.

Mrs. R. An’ they laugh at ye afterwards.

Rog. (Angry.) Laugh at me! How d’ye know?

Mrs. R. I’ve overheard them.

Rog. Well, there’ll be a dead nigger if they do it agin.

Mrs. R. Jim, you mustn’t talk that way. We can’t blame ’em. We don’t know how to act, I guess.

Rog. No, Mollie, I reckon we aint in it.

Mrs. R. Let’s go back home!

Rog. All right. Vance is tired of it, too.

Mrs. R. Vance tired? Why, he knows how to act. He’s been with the best.

Rog. He’s sick of it. Goin’ to Europe or some’ers.

Mrs. R. Poor Vance! I’m awful sorry. D’ye s’pose he’ll ever git over that shootin’ of her brother.

Rog. No! Say, Mollie (confidentially), I s’pose I oughtn’t to tell. He asked me not to, but that’s why he’s goin’ so sudden. He’s so restless, he can’t stay in one place.

Mrs. R. I’m awful sorry fur Vance.

Rog. You bet. If I was him I’d get onto that lead agin or burn some powder. I never seen whiter people than them Lawtons.

Mrs. R. But how could they make up after that?

Rog. Old man is A1.

Mrs. R. He doesn’t want to marry the old man!

Rog. No, but I’d have an assay anyway an’ see if there wasn’t a trace. If the button wasn’t bigger’n a pin-head I’d foller the lead. As fur the young lady, she’s all pay streak clean through, an’ a thousand dollars to the ton, an’ purty as a peach. If I wasn’t taken a’ready, Mollie—

Mrs. R. Now Jim, don’t be silly. You do say such things an’ people hear.

Rog. Let ’em hear! who cares?

Mrs. R. I s’pose he’s never seen her sence.

Rog. Seein’ her would be awful hard to do after shootin’ her brother before her eyes!

Mrs. R. But it was all a terrible mistake, nobody was to blame.

Rog. D’ye think they could ever forgit that?

Mrs. R. Mebbe not, but I b’lieve both of ’em would be better fur havin’ a talk. Vance is too good an’ true to go dodgin’ anybody.

Rog. That’s what!

Mrs. R. I wish they could meet. She loves him to death.

Rog. D’ye think so, Mollie?

Mrs. R. I know it. Why she nearly went out of her head after the shootin’.

Rog. Why couldn’t I tell him that?

Mrs. R. (Emphatically.) Don’t think of such a thing.

Rog. Hist, Mollie! (He hears Vance coming.)

Enter Vance, D. F.

Vance. Good morning, Mrs. Rogers!

Mrs. R. Good morning, Mr. Vance! I am so glad to see you. I am so weary of seein’ nobody but strangers an’ niggers day after day.

Vance. I’m very sorry then that I have come to announce my immediate departure.

Mrs. R. So ye’re goin’ to leave us?

Vance. (Sadly.) Yes, I’m sorry, but I—I have changed my plans.

Mrs. R. Purty sudden, aint it?

Vance. Rather! Well, you see, Mrs. Rogers, I’m a nervous, restless sort of chap. Always was, you know.

Rog. Pard, come back to the mountains with us.

Vance. (Surprised.) What! Are you going, too?

Rog. Yes, Mollie’s gittin’ tired of society.

Vance. I don’t blame her. Such a hurly-burly, come-and-go sort of life as this is intolerable.

Mrs. R. I can’t bear it.

Rog. The Grouse is all tore up about it. Says people make fun of us. I said let me ketch ’em at it.

Mrs. R. (Warningly.) Jim!

Rog. What do I care fur ’em? I pay as I go.

Vance. Yes, of course.

Mrs. R. Pay as you go! Just as if money did everything. They have money an’ edication, we have nothin’ but money.

Rog. (Vexed.) Don’t say that, Mrs. Rogers. Taint so. We have somethin’ else. We’ve horse sense. That’s more’n that old galoot with the vally de shamber kin say. An’ look at that arm. Aint that something? I’ve driv a drill three foot into solid granite in the Lucy, an’ I kin do it agin. An’ that old gilly an’ his vally de shamber couldn’t both do that in a week, to save their necks.

Mrs. R. They don’t have to drill holes in rocks.

Rog. Well, I’ll drill a hole in the next feller ’at laughs at you, Mollie. An’ I’ll make it big enough fur him to put in a skylight. Cuss ’em, what do I care for Floridy, an’ dudes from down East, an’ gals dressed to kill. None of ’em as purty as you!

Mrs. R. Jim Rogers!

Rog. An’ if some o’ them dudes aint a holy show, I’ll eat a live alligater.

Vance. I think you are oversensitive, Mrs. Rogers. You’ll get used to this after a while and like it better.

Mrs. R. Harvey Vance, why don’t you like it then? It’s your own kind.

Vance. (Uneasy.) Well—in fact I never was much for show and style, and—in fact it occurred to me to see Europe while I have a chance. (Going.)

Rog. Goin’ to pack up?

Vance. Yes. I want to catch the next Savannah boat. (Exit.)

Rog. Say Mollie, le’s us pack our traps an’ the whole outfit’ll go to Europe.

Mrs. R. Good land! Jim Rogers, are you crazy? (Servant raps at door.)

Rog. Come in.

Enter servant with card on tray.

Rog. (Takes card.) Somebody callin’ on us, Mollie. Waltz ’em in. (Servant grins.) Say, looky hyur, are you grinnin’ at me, you cussed Ethiopian monkey?[1] I’ll break yer neck! (Grabs at waiter who drops tray and flies out as Rog. throws tray after him. Mrs. R. fit of laughter.) Cyards everywhere! Instead o’ comin’ right in. I can’t stand this foolery nether.

[1] If waiter is white, substitute: “You cussed dried-herrin’, Floridy cracker.”

Enter Mr. Law and Flo.

Law. Mr. Rogers, I believe.

Rog. That’s me! Why, how are you, Mr. Lawton. Awful glad to see you. (Introducing.) My wife! Used to be the Grouse, you know.

Law. Mrs. Rogers, I’m delighted. You remember my daughter.

Mrs. R. Yes, indeed!

Flo. Oh, very well. (They kiss.) My dear friends, married! Many congratulations.

Rog. Yes, Mollie an’ me thought we’d hitch.

Mrs. R. James!

Rog. Get married I mean, an’ now we’re on our weddin’ tower.

Law. Let me also extend my heartiest congratulations. (To Mrs. R.) Of course you are enjoying your trip. We should never ask a bride that question.

Mrs. R. Why yes—that is—

Rog. She’s kickin’ a little. Haint got used to tippin’ everybody every time she turns round. I ain’t carin’ fur expense.

Mrs. R. James, that’s not interestin’ to other folks. (Jim looks at her then at Mr. L.)

Flo. I’m so glad to see you, Mrs. Rogers, you look so well—

Rog. Lookin’ well! I should say. Mollie, I call that neat. (Women aside.)

Law. (Laughing.) Rogers, (in half aside) you’re in great luck.

Rog. You bet! I’m right on the pay streak. Han’some bird and stuff to buy the feathers.

Law. We owe you and your wife a great deal.

Rog. Not a red! Wy, cuss it, I owe you somethin’ I can’t never pay. To think I let them fight—it makes me sick to think of it. Am I doin’ right to mention it?

Law. What’s done is done.

Enter Rachel, D. F., running, out of breath.

Rach. (Excitedly.) Oh Mr. Lawton!

Law. What is the matter, Rachel?

Flo. Rachel, speak!

Rach. I’m so out of breath (gasps), he’s lookin’ for him.

Rog. (Excitedly.) Who’s lookin’ for who?

Flo. Rachel, you make me nervous.

Law. Speak Rachel! What ails you?

Rach. I’ve run everywhere lookin’ for you. Mr. Herbert is lookin’ for Vance.

Rog. Herbert! Wy, he’s dead!

Law.	}	Dead!
Flo.	}

Rog. Yes, the jewel (duel) they fit in the mountains. Is that gal crazy?

Law. My son is not dead, he got well.

Rog. Not dead! Got well! The cussed paper said he was dead.

Law. A reporter’s mistake.

Rog. We’ll, I’ll be—that beats me.

Flo. (Soliloquy.) That is why he never came. (With anguish.) Oh! oh! (Mrs. R. helps her to settee.)

Law. Rachel, where are they?

Rach. I don’t know, sir. But Mr. Herbert has a pistol. Oh, they’ll shoot.

Flo. That is terrible! Do stop them please! Quick!

Rog. Lookin’ fur ’im with a gun. Cuss me if that don’t mind me of old times. I’ll take a hand I ’low. (Changes.) Say, I haint no gun. (Excitedly.) Mollie, I told you we’d need a gun.

Law. Run, you are young. Explain. Command peace.

Rog. Now, how kin a man command peace with no gun. Why, he wouldn’t have no more say than a baby.

Mrs. R. Jim, do go. Speak to them.

Rog. Bet yer life I’ll try! (Runs out D. F.)

Law. (Anxiously.) Daughter, have courage. It’ll be all right. What a mistake.

Flo. But I can’t see him. Take me to my room, papa.

Law. Yes dear. (They start, she leaning on his arm.)

Enter Rog., hurriedly, D. F.

Rog. It’s all right. No shootin’. Here they are.

Enter Vance and Herb., D. F.

Herb. Yes, it is all right. Father, welcome Mr. Vance, my friend. (L. and V. shake hands cordially.)

Rog. Mollie, I’m so awful glad, I want to raise ole Nick!

Mrs. R. Jim, be still.

Rog. Well, it’s all right, pard. (Seizes V.’s hand.)

Vance. No, it is not all right yet. It is for the one most wronged to say that. (To Flo.) Miss Lawton—

Flo. Harvey!

Vance. Can you forgive me? (Looks at her. Pause.) Yes?

Flo. Yes. (She extends her hand greatly overcome. They meet aside L., others gather R.)

Rog. (To Mollie.) I told you. Say, Mr. Lawton, this is a great country after all. It’s good enough for me.

Herb. There’s luck in it, too.

Law. It is not bad I think.

Rog. (Turns toward V. and F.) Pard, goin’ to Europe now?

Mrs. R. (Pulls at his arm.) Let ’em alone!

Vance. Why yes; with Mr. Lawton’s permission.

Law. Vance, I leave all those things to the parties interested.

Vance. What do you say, Flossie?

Flo. Harvey—we—we’ll think it over.

Rog. That’s jist the way the Grouse talked when I asked her. It’s a go! Mollie, git to packin’ the trunks. We’ll be in the party. (Dress stage. Looks at watch, suddenly changes, looks at watch.) Holy Moses! Mollie, we’re to go a fishin’ to-day an’ the boat’s been waiting two hours at two dollars an hour.

Tableau.

R.	L.
Herb., Lawton, Mrs. R., Rog., Vance, Flo., Rach.

Slow Curtain.

THE COBBLER

A Monologue of Humor and Pathos

By T. S. DENISON

Author of
Odds with the Enemy, Initiating a Granger, Wanted, a Correspondent, A Family Strike, Seth Greenback, Louva, the Pauper, Hans Von Smash, Borrowing Trouble, Two Ghosts in White, The Pull-Back, Country Justice, The Assessor, The Sparkling Cup, Our Country, Irish Linen Peddler, The School Ma’am, Kansas Immigrants, An Only Daughter, Too Much of a Good Thing, Under the Laurels, Hard Cider, The Danger Signal, Wide Enough for Two, Pets of Society, Is the Editor In? The New Woman, Patsy O’Wang, Rejected, Only Cold Tea, Madam P’s Beauty Parlors, Topp’s Twins, A First-Class Hotel, It’s all in the Pay-Streak, The Cobbler, A Dude in a Cyclone, Friday Dialogues.

Also the Novels,
The Man Behind, An Iron Crown, etc.

CHICAGO:
T. S. DENISON, Publisher,
163 Randolph Street.