JIM. Wait, Kate—we ain't got time to try him now. He ain't got time; the boys are waiting up at the Court House. Mr. Travers, this young lady likes you—very much. [He slowly rises.
TRAVERS. [Still covering him.] I know the cause of your hatred, Mr.
Radburn—I know you are here because I love her.
JIM. No, I'm here because she likes you—if she didn't like you 'twouldn't make any difference to me how quick we came to terms; but she likes you—your Pinkerton friend—[Pause. Indicating neck.] dead—the boys are up at the Court House. Clark is pretty hot about them Jumbo bottles, and they wouldn't be reasonable—my hoss is standing at the door—with anything like a fair start he can hold his own—Louisiana town is eleven miles away, and jist across from that is Illinois—and then you'll have to look out for yourself—now go!
KATE. [With emotional appreciation.] Jim!
JIM. [With a restraining gesture.] Never mind, Kate.
TRAVERS. You tell me to go?
JIM. [Pause.] Yes.
TRAVERS. Why, there's ten thousand dollars' reward—
JIM. For the man that—went—in—that—car—but you ain't that man.
TRAVERS. On your horse?