JIM. [Off.] No.
JOE. [Leaving door.] See here—[Enter DAVE.] Kin you run one o' these machines?
DAVE. I allow I kin.
JOE. [Hands clock to DAVE.] Then set her an hour earlier, and have things fired up in the mornin'. We've got to weld that Louisiana tire, I reckon, afore breakfast.
DAVE. All right.
Enter MRS. VERNON and LIZBETH.
MRS. VERNON. Here, Joe—[Hands cup.] Git to feedin' it. I'll git attached to it, an' we've got too many dogs now.
JOE. [Caressing her with rough push on the face.] I know you, ma—you're the motherin'est old hen in Pike—[Going.] If he don't drink this I'll drowned him.
MRS. VERNON. [To street door.] Now, Lizbeth, I don't see nothin' of Kate. She's out there with Travers—you an' Dave kind o' hang round like you was with 'em.
LIZBETH. Come, Dave. [To MRS. VERNON.] Jes' not let on?