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.