JOHN. [His voice very close now.] Hello, girlie! How's everything?
LAURA. Fine! Do hurry.
JOHN. Just make this horse for a minute. Hurry is not in his dictionary.
LAURA. I'm coming down to meet you.
JOHN. All—right.
LAURA. [Turns quickly to WILL.] You don't care. You'll wait, won't you?
WILL. Surely.
LAURA hurriedly exits. WILL goes down centre of the stage. After a short interval LAURA comes in, more like a sixteen-year-old girl than anything else, pulling JOHN after her. He is a tall, finely built type of Western manhood, a frank face, a quick, nervous energy, a mind that works like lightning, a prepossessing smile, and a personality that is wholly captivating. His clothes are a bit dusty from the ride, but are not in the least pretentious, and his leggins are of canvas and spurs of brass, such as are used in the Army. His hat is off, and he is pulled on to the stage, more like a great big boy than a man. His hair is a bit tumbled, and he shows every indication of having had a rather long and hard ride.
LAURA. Hello, John!
JOHN. Hello, girlie!