RUTH. (a flush of anger coming over her face) And didn’t he try to stop you from going?
ANDREW. (in surprise) No, of course not. Why?
RUTH. (slowly and vindictively) That’s just like him—not to.
ANDREW. (resentfully) Rob’s too good a chum to try and stop me when he knows I’m set on a thing. And he could see just as soon’s I told him what a good chance it was.
RUTH. (dazedly) And you’re bound on going?
ANDREW. Sure thing. Oh, I don’t mean right off. I’ll have to wait for a ship sailing there for quite a while, likely. Anyway, I want to stay to home and visit with you folks a spell before I go.
RUTH. (dumbly) I s’pose. (With sudden anguish) Oh, Andy, you can’t go! You can’t. Why we’ve all thought—we’ve all been hoping and praying you was coming home to stay, to settle down on the farm and see to things. You mustn’t go! Think of how your Ma’ll take on if you go—and how the farm’ll be ruined if you leave it to Rob to look after. You can see that.
ANDREW. (frowning) Rob hasn’t done so bad. When I get a man to direct things the farm’ll be safe enough.
RUTH. (insistently) But your Ma—think of her.
ANDREW. She’s used to me being away. She won’t object when she knows it’s best for her and all of us for me to go. You ask Rob. In a couple of years down there I’ll make my pile, see if I don’t; and then I’ll come back and settle down and turn this farm into the crackiest place in the whole state. In the meantime, I can help you both from down there. (Earnestly) I tell you, Ruth, I’m going to make good right from the minute I land, if working hard and a determination to get on can do it; and I know they can! (Excitedly—in a rather boastful tone) I tell you, I feel ripe for bigger things than settling down here. The trip did that for me, anyway. It showed me the world is a larger proposition than ever I thought it was in the old days. I couldn’t be content any more stuck here like a fly in molasses. It all seems trifling, somehow. You ought to be able to understand what I feel.