Butts. Precisely. That won’t be long. I’ve got my eye on him.
Dilly. You suspect.
Butts. Do I! I tell you, Dilly, when Butts gets his eye on a culprit, there’s no escape.
Dilly. Mr. Butts, didn’t Mr. Hastings come here from California?
Butts. He did. By the by, he might give me information,—valuable information.
Dilly. Suppose he should be John Robinson?
Butts. Oh, pooh, pooh, Dilly. It isn’t possible. Suspect him? why you’re not so sharp as I gave you credit for. He’s here openly. Do you suppose John Robinson would travel about in his original hair and whiskers? No, John Robinson is disguised. I’ve got my eye on him. There’s been a very suspicious character prowling about the village for the last two days. It’s him, John Robinson. But he won’t prowl much longer. Oh, no! Butts has his eye on him, Butts has his eye on him. Good-by, Dilly! Don’t speak of this,—not a word, not a syllable. Five thousand dollars! He’s trapped, he’s trapped. (Exit C.)
Dilly. This is very strange. Why should this John Robinson come here? I wish this matter was in any other hands than those of Mr. Butts. Zealous as he appears, he was never known to ferret out any crime of more importance than that of robbing an orchard. He’ll be sure to make some mistake. (Enter Mrs. Loring, R.)
Mrs. L. I have persuaded the doctor to lie down, Dilly. Can I be of any assistance to you?
Dilly. No, thank you.