JIM. I s'pose you'd know him agin?
SAM. Anywhere.
LIZBETH. [With nursery alarm.] He must a looked terrible.
SAM. [Commonplace.] Well, he didn't—nice a lookin' feller as you want to see. Black mustache—kind a curly hair—looked a little bit, you know, like a race-horse man.
EM'LY. The company said Sam wrote the superintendent's order himself.
SAM. Oh, yes—got an expert to swear it looked like my writing.
EM'LY. Tain't a bit—like it.
JIM. [To EMILY.] Did you see it?
SAM. No, but I showed her part of the letter he wrote to the newspaper, saying I was innocent. [Feels in pocket.] Ain't that strange? Seems to be a kind-hearted fellow.
MRS. VERNON. Jes' drove to it I s'pose by drink.