Mary. He holds a check, which he declares was forged, his name used, and the money drawn from the bank by Will. This he has threatened to use against my brother.
Jarius. Jes’ so. A forged check? That’s an old trick. You don’t happen to know what bank it was drawn on—do you?
Mary. He told me. Let me think a moment. The Phœnix Bank.
Jarius. The Phœnix? Sho! I’ve got him! (Goes, to table, takes a tablet from his pocket, and writes with a pencil.) Neow, then, young feller, I want to use yer. If yeou want Mary, jest put on your hat, and leg it to the telegraph office. Here’s a message; put it through, and wait for an answer. (Tears out leaf, and gives it to Ned.)
Ned. But what does this mean?
Jarius. Business. Don’t ask any questions; but go. If yeou git the answer I expect, I’ll eucre Douglas in spite of thunder.
Ned. Will you? Then I’m off.—Will you go, Mary?
Jarius. No; Mary will stay here. Where’s your politeness? Ain’t I company?
Ned. All right, Mr. Jordan. I’m off. (Exit, C.)
Jarius. Well, Mary, heow’s yer marm?