JIM. [Entering, looking back.] Say, Joe, women are great, ain't they? [Stands admiringly in doorway.
JOE. [Slowly coming down, filling pipe.] Jim! [Pause. JIM doesn't answer, only looks at JOE.] You an' me—[Turns quickly and looks at JIM.] You an' me are goin' into the convention together? [JIM nods once, and chews slowly.] Agin each other. [JIM nods and chews. Pause.] Smoke? [Offers pipe.
JIM. [Takes cud from mouth; hesitates—returns it.] Chew.
JOE. Set down. [They sit. JIM left of table—JOE to the right in rocker.] There's somethin' I want to say to you jes' between ourselves.
Enter MRS. VERNON.
MRS. VERNON. [Comes back of table between the men.] I reckon he's comfortable.
JOE. Jim an' me's talkin' a minute, ma.
MRS. VERNON. [Reassuredly.] Well, I got my work. [Exit.
JOE. Jim—[JIM looks at him.] I been a figurin' an' I've calculated they's a difference of about $600 'tween you an' me.
JIM. [Placidly.] How?