THE CALIFORNIAN (appearing). I ain’t any Tom Goodall. My name’s Abram Sawyer.
CAMPBELL (falling back). Well, sir, you’re right. I’m awfully sorry to disturb you; but, from my sister’s description here, I felt certain you must be my old friend Tom Goodall.
THE CALIFORNIAN. I ain’t surprised at it. I’m only surprised I ain’t Tom Goodall. I’ve been a baby twice, and I’ve been a man’s wife once, and once I’ve been a long-lost brother.
CAMPBELL (laughing). Oh, they’ve found him. I’m the long-lost brother.
THE CALIFORNIAN (sleepily). Has she found the other one?
CAMPBELL. Yes; all right, I believe.
THE CALIFORNIAN. Has he found what he wanted?
CAMPBELL. Yes; we’re all together here. [THE CALIFORNIAN makes a movement to get into bed again.] Oh, don’t! You’d better make a night of it now. It’s almost morning anyway. We want you to go home with us, and Mrs. Roberts will give you a bed at her house, and let you sleep a week.
THE CALIFORNIAN. Well, I reckon you’re right, stranger. I seem to be in the hands of Providence tonight anyhow. [He pulls on his boots and coat, and takes his seat beside CAMPBELL.] I reckon there ain’t any use in fighting against Providence.
MRS. ROBERTS (briskly, as if she had often tried it and failed). Oh, not the least in the world. I’m sure it was all intended; and if you had turned out to be Willis at last, I should be certain of it. What surprises me is that you shouldn’t turn out to be anybody, after all.