RUTH. (dully) I s’pose so. (They are interrupted by the sound of a loud knock at the kitchen door) There’s someone at the kitchen door. (She hurries out. A moment later she reappears) It’s Ben.
ROBERT. (frowning) What’s the trouble now, I wonder? (In a loud voice) Come on in here, Ben. (BEN slouches in from the kitchen. He is a hulking, awkward young fellow with a heavy, stupid face and shifty, cunning eyes. He is dressed in overalls, boots, etc., and wears a broad-brimmed hat of coarse straw pushed back on his head) Well, Ben, what’s the matter?
BEN. (drawlingly) The mowin’ machine’s bust.
ROBERT. Why, that can’t be. The man fixed it only last week.
BEN. It’s bust just the same.
BEN. No. Don’t know what’s the matter with the goll-darned thing. ’Twon’t work, anyhow.
ROBERT. (getting up and going for his hat) Wait a minute and I’ll go look it over. There can’t be much the matter with it.
BEN. (impudently) Don’t make no diff’rence t’ me whether there be or not. I’m quittin’.
ROBERT. (anxiously) You don’t mean you’re throwing up your job here?