Grouse. But you may meet tother one on the mountain.
Flo. I want to meet him. One word would fix it all right. (Exit.)
Grouse. Well, I never! These fine ladies play a big game. Keeps both on the hooks till they git fightin’ mad an’ then goes tearin’ round tryin’ to make peace. Humph! Wants to meet tother one. Well, I s’pose he’s the one an’ Vance gits left. I’m awful sorry for Vance fur he’s white an’ Jim likes him awful well. (Sits on table and swings feet.) That comes o’ havin’ too many fellers at onct. I’ve been there, but I reckon I shipped Lonesome Mose jist in time. Good Lord, only think o’ Pay Streak an’ Lonesome Mose cavortin’ round the mountains lookin’ for each other. Why, it makes Jim hot fur me even to mention Mose. There’s a good deal worse than Mose, but I wouldn’t look at him beside Jim. I’ve been dreamin’ o’ Jim ever since we led the ball at Cottonwood Pass two years ago last winter. If anything ’ud happen Jim—well, the Rocky Mountain Grouse wouldn’t fly so high, that’s all. But it wouldn’t do for me to tell him all that. A little at a time kind o’ keeps a man lookin’ for more an’ then Jim’s sort o’ gone on himself an’ it would make him sassy. (Looks out.) Why, there he comes runnin’.
Enter Pay S., R.
Pay S. (Breathlessly.) Run all the way an’ back. Can’t find ’em nowhere. Where’s she?
Grouse. Gone. She’s a sly one.
Pay S. There yer off yer lead. She’ll run away up on assay.
Grouse. I didn’t mean that. She’s playin’ two suckers at onct, I guess.
Pay S. I don’t b’lieve it. That woman’s no coquette (cokwet).
Grouse. Why, she said so herself.