Chapter 4

SCENE. _Same as_ ACT I, _but tidy. Doors closed and lamp lighted. Song in blacksmith shop before rise of curtain._

DISCOVERED. DAVE _and_ LIZBETH _playing checkers on home-made board._ EM'LY _and_ SAM _looking on._ JOE _reading._ KATE _in walking dress looking out window._ MRS. VERNON _with glasses mending some garments._

JOE. [_Annoyed by song--frets. Goes to the door._] Here, you boys--don't hang around that shop; go up in the square an' sing.

MRS. VERNON. What you sen' 'em away fur?

JOE. Oh, it's one o' them blamed "mother" songs. Nobody ever sings anything about father--except the "Old man's drunk again," or somethin' like that.

DAVE. Your move, Lizbeth.

LIZBETH. [_Petulantly._] Don't I know it?

SAM. Move there.

DAVE. Hold on, I can't beat both of you.

LIZBETH. Don't tell me, Sam. I'd a moved there anyway. Come on, Dave.

KATE. [_Solus._] A whole hour longer; I cannot wait.

MRS. VERNON. What's fretting you, Kate?

KATE. Everything.

MRS. VERNON. [_Indicates the melodeon._] Play something.

KATE. I can't play on that melodeon, mother.

MRS. VERNON. Poor old melodeon! for all the music we git out of it--might as well be a folding bed.

ESROM. [_Appearing at window._] I knowed they oughtn't be any clinker in that coke.

JOE. [_From his paper._] That's all right, Esrom.

ESROM. Don't want no mo' coke, Mistah?

JOE. No, no, no!

ESROM _hands_ KATE _a letter._

ESROM. [_Whispering._] He--he wants an answer.

DAVE. Hold on!

LIZBETH. Well, it's a king!

DAVE. Yes--but I move first.

_A knock at street door._

JOE. Come in.

_Enter_ JIM.

MRS. VERNON. Good-evenin'.

JOE. [_Not turning._] Who is it?

JIM. You're all here, are you?

JOE. [_Rising._] Hello, Jim.

JIM. [_To_ JOE.] Hello. [EM'LY _goes to him; he puts his arm about her._] How long you been here?

EM'LY. All day.

JIM. What?

JOE _goes to the shelf at back and fills his pipe._

EM'LY. So's Sam.

SAM. Mrs. Vernon made us stay to dinner. Then _supper_.

JOE. Sam didn't feel like seeing the town folks.

JIM. Why?

SAM. Well, I didn't know how they'd feel about it.

JIM. What, think you did do it?

SAM. I didn't know.

JIM. That's just the reason; why, if you hang back, what can they do?

MRS. VERNON. [_Explaining._] Well, Em'ly was here.

JIM. I know, but Sam ought to have spunk to face 'em. It's got to come and you might as well know where your friends are.

JOE. That's so.

SAM. [_Starting to door._] Well, I reckon most of 'em's up at the drug-store.

JIM. [_Emphatically._] Walk right in amongst 'em.

SAM. Dog gone it! I ain't ashamed, but if they hint anything I'd feel like smashing 'em--huh!

JIM. You got to.

SAM. All right. [_Exit._

JIM. Don't let me stop the game.

LIZBETH. Dave thinks all night.

EM'LY. [_To_ JIM, _putting him around._] Where have you been?

JIM. St. Louis. Been to see the railroad people. Say, Joe!

JOE. Yes?

JIM. Sam's got the express people scared.

JOE. How's that?

JIM. Hearin' I was his friend, they hinted to me that they'd like to square it.

JOE. Compromise.

JIM. [_Nodding his head._] I worked it up for him. Said Bollinger was a regular terror.

EM'LY. Will the express company have to pay Sam?

JIM. Well, rather. And after they do, Sam ought to go down to their president's office and kick 'em all around the back-yard.

_Exit_ KATE.

JOE. What's ailing Kate?

MRS. VERNON. Seems out o' sorts--mebbe she'll tell me alone. [_Exit._

DAVE. [_Protesting._] You can't move backwards.

LIZBETH. Well?

DAVE. That's cornered.

JOE. He's got you, Lizbeth.

JIM. Dave!

DAVE. Yes?

JIM. I saw the Wabash folks.

DAVE. Have a talk with them?

JIM. [_Hands_ DAVE _a paper._] Yes--there's a memorandum agreement--they'll take all I can give 'em at thirty dollars a car-load.

JOE. What's that?

JIM _takes a piece of gumbo from pocket and hands it to_ JOE.

JIM. [_To_ DAVE.] Now I've got a proposition for you.

DAVE. What?

JIM. You superintend the burnin' of the stuff, and I'll take you in.

DAVE. Why, Jim--[_Rises in delight._

JOE. What's this fur?

JIM. Ballast.

JOE. Ballast?

JIM. Yes, that road-bed that washes out. [_Pause._] Thirty dollars a car.

JOE. What!

JIM. Me an' Dave.

DAVE. Why, Jim, I ain't got no claim on you.

JIM. You pumped the bellows this morning while I burned it.

DAVE. Well--

JIM. And you want a steady job, don't you?

DAVE. Well--[_"I should say so," understood; turns to him._

JOE. But see here--[JIM _looks at him--waits._]--You goin' into this?

JIM. Wouldn't you, if you got the contract?

JOE. But Dave--Dave's helpin' me!

JIM. You told him to git a job, didn't you?

JOE. Yes--but--

LIZBETH. [_Ready for a fight._] An' that's what you told me.

JIM. [_Abetting_ LIZBETH.] Yes.

JOE. But my business needs somebody.

JIM. Then why don't you let them git married?

JOE. An' me support them?

JIM. [_In disgust._] Hell!--

JOE. What's the matter?

JIM. Ain't he worth his wages?

JOE. I never said he wasn't.

JIM. [_In superlative display._] And he's made nearly a whole set of furniture.

JOE. But if I went to Jefferson, I was goin' to leave this shop with Dave.

LIZBETH. [_With pride._] Dave!

JIM. Well, that's different. See here! You let 'em get married. I only want Dave to superintend this burnin'--it won't take two half-days a week to kind a-look it over--we kin get niggers to do the work, and Dave kin stay here.

LIZBETH. Dave!--

DAVE. [_Hushing her._] Sh--

JOE. Well, I'll think it over and--

JIM. [_Positively._] No!

JOE. No?

JIM. _I_ can't fool with you, Joe; he gits the girl or we quit.

LIZBETH. An' the girl goes too.

JOE. What?

JIM. Yes, the girl goes too. [_Pause and smile._] It's your say, Joe. [_Foot on chair._] Well, Joe, it's up to you.

JOE. [_Giving up._] Well, I can't help it.

JIM. [_Passing the approval to_ DAVE _and_ LIZBETH.] There's your girl. And you've got a stiddy job! [DAVE _and_ LIZBETH _half embrace._] What do you think of that? [_To_ JOE, _who is mechanically looking at gumbo._] Thirty dollars per car.

JOE. [_Glad to change the subject._] Thirty, eh?

JIM. Every per car--and see here--Joe--

JOE. What?

JIM. [_Draws second paper from pocket._] I've fixed up a kind of a resignation here.

JOE. Resignation?

JIM. Yes. I can't tend to this new business and do much work as sheriff, so I'm goin' to resign the sheriff part of it.

JOE. You mustn' do it, Jim--why, you've been keepin' the district like a prayer-meeting!

JIM. Well, somebody else kin sing the Doxology--you turn that into the council fur me.

_Enter_ KATE _and_ MRS. VERNON.

MRS. VERNON. I've put my foot down, Kate,--you can't go.

KATE. I am going.

MRS. VERNON. Joe Vernon, it's time you took a hand a-managin' this family.

JOE. What's the matter?

MRS. VERNON. I've told Kate she can't go out.

JOE. Well, ma,--Kate ain't a child.

MRS. VERNON. Your carelessness'll make her disgrace the whole family.

JOE. Hol' on, ma.

MRS. VERNON. I know what I'm talking about. I see that nigger give Kate a letter.

JOE. Why, he don't know how to write.

MRS. VERNON. You don't suppose I think the nigger wrote it! It's from someone else.

JOE. Who is it from, Kate?

KATE. I don't care to tell. I'm going out. [_Starts_.

MRS. VERNON. [_Interposes_.] No, Kate, you ain't.

JOE. Why, ma--if Kate wants to go walkin'--

MRS. VERNON. All right, she kin walk. But getting letters sneaked to her, and going out to meet a man's another thing. [_Persuasively going to her_.] Why don't you tell, Kate?

KATE. [_Down to end of table_.] No one has a right to my letters.

JOE. Of course not. No _right_, Kate, but your ma's naturally anxious, and she's only tryin' for your good.

KATE. [_Ready to weep_.] I'm awfully tired of it.

JOE. But you kin tell me--you ain't ashamed of it, air you?

KATE. No, I'm not!

MRS. VERNON. It's Travers, ain't it?

JOE. [_Coaxing_.] Is it, Kate?

KATE. Yes, it is.

JOE. Well, there, ma--see. [_Walks away as though matter were closed. Crossing left_.

MRS. VERNON. Air you losin' your senses, Joe Vernon?

JOE. [_Irritated_.] The girl's tole you, ain't she?

MRS. VERNON. And jes' what I thought, too. She's goin' to meet him.

KATE. Well, what of it? You're polite enough to his face.

MRS. VERNON. Of course, if he'll come here like a man. But when I was a gurl--it'd a been an insult fur a man to send a note askin' her to meet him after dark.

JOE. [_Loudly chaffing_.] Oh, ma--now don't forget--

MRS. VERNON. You upholdin' her? Jim, that's the way I have to fight to keep this family straight. What's _your_ opinion?

JIM. Well, 'tain't no business o' mine, Mrs. Vernon, and--

MRS. VERNON. Do you like his looks?

JIM. [_Pause_.] He ain't jes' my kind--but may be he don't like mine.

MRS. VERNON. Do you uphold his sending letters to Kate?

JIM. Why, Mrs. Vernon, I can't blame other men fur likin' Kate.

MRS. VERNON. Meetin' them after dark?

JIM. Kate knows how I feel about her--[_Pause_.] And if she wanted my opinion I'd give it to her--but on the other hand--I've got an awful lot o' confidence in Kate.

MRS. VERNON. Why don't you answer his letter, Kate, an' say you'll be happy to receive him at your home? He won't think none the less of you.

KATE. I've promised to meet him, and I'm going to keep the appointment.

MRS. VERNON. Is she, Joe?

JOE. Well, ma, I can't tie her.

MRS. VERNON. Take Lizbeth with you.

KATE. I don't want Lizbeth with me.

LIZBETH. I won't play proprietary for her!

KATE. [_Starting up_.] I'm going alone. [_Crosses right_.

MRS. VERNON. [_With her back to street door_.] Not this door, you ain't.

KATE. Then the other. [_Exits, followed by_ MRS. VERNON.

MRS. VERNON. [_As she disappears by door_.] We'll see!

_Enter_ BOLLINGER _from street_.

BOLLINGER. [_In great excitement_.] Say, boys--man killed up at Clark's--

JOE. [_Catching the thrill_.] Man killed?

BOLLINGER. Yes.

LIZBETH _and_ EM'LY. Oh!

JOE. Run over?

BOLLINGER. Shot.

ALL. Shot!

BOLLINGER. [_Revelling in the gossip_.] Travers shot him. Sam Fowler came in the drug-store, and the minute he saw him he said, "That's the man robbed my car--"

JIM. [_Quietly_.] What's he look like?

BOLLINGER. [_Impatiently_.] Why, _Travers_--Sam says that's the man--and Travers started for the window--stepped right into the perfumery case, then on the sody-water counter, and this fellow grabbed him. First we see Travers had his gun right against the fellow's neck and--bang--he turned around with both hands up, this way, and kneels down right at Bill Sarber's feet.

EM'LY. And Sam?

BOLLINGER. Oh, Sam's all right--say, kin one of you boys lend me a gun--we're huntin' fur him.

JOE. Hunting who?

BOLLINGER. [_Intolerant of_ JOE'S _stupidity_.] Why, Travers.

JIM. [_In quiet contrast_.] Where'd he go?

BOLLINGER. Right through the window--knocked over both them green lights--kicked a box o' lickerish all over the sidewalk--kin you spare one?

JOE. [_Bustling about_.] I ain't got but one, and I reckon I'll take a hand myself.

JIM. [_To_ EM'LY.] Come, little gal, we got to go home.

JOE. [_At door. Calls_.] Ma--ma!--Say, Jim, you can't resign to-night--I knowed they'd be trouble if you quit.

JIM. Better meet at the Court House. [_Exit with_ EM'LY _and passes window going left_.

_Enter_ MRS. VERNON.

JOE. Where's my gun?

MRS. VERNON. What you want it fur?

JOE. [_Who is running a circle_.] What do you s'pose--fry eggs? Where is it?

LIZBETH. Travers killed a man.

MRS. VERNON. [_Adding her part to the hubbub_.] Lor'! Travers!

JOE. Where is it, Lizbeth?

BOLLINGER. Ain't you got anything you kin lend me?

MRS. VERNON. Here it is. [_Hands gun_.

JOE. Loaded?

MRS. VERNON. Don't pint it.

JOE. That--the butt end--come on!

BOLLINGER. A butcher-knife's better than nothing.

LIZBETH. Here! [_Hands knife to_ BOLLINGER.

DAVE. [_As_ LIZBETH _holds him_.] You don't think I'm scared.

_Exeunt_ BOLLINGER _and_ JOE.

MRS. VERNON. I don't want you to shoot anybody, Joe; pint it in the air.

DAVE _exits; when off calls_ "Good-bye!"

MRS. VERNON. [_Impatient in doorway_.] I can't see what business it is of Dave's when they's three policemen in town; uniforms--where's Em'ly?

LIZBETH. Jim took her home.

MRS. VERNON. Did somebody say Travers?

LIZBETH. Yes.

_Enter_ Kate.

KATE. What is it?

LIZBETH. Travers shot a man.

KATE. What man--why?

MRS. VERNON. [_Accusingly._] Jus' natural deviltry--purty pass things is coming to!

KATE. Whom did he shoot?

LIZBETH. We don't know--shot him here, in the neck.

_Enter_ Sarber _from street, hurriedly._

SARBER. Hello,--where's the boys?

MRS. VERNON. Have they ketched him?

SARBER. Don't know--we're all huntin'--[_Starts off._

KATE. [_Quickly._] Mr. Sarber--

SARBER. Eh?

KATE. Who is hurt?

SARBER. [_Shouting._] Don't know his name--Clark stuffed the hole full of cotton. [_Indicating neck._] Says city'll have to pay for his green lights and lickorish.

KATE. Did Mr. Travers shoot the man?

SARBER. Yes'm--nearer than you an' me--which way'd they go?

LIZBETH. Court House.

SARBER. Been an awful hot day. [_Exit._

KATE. [_In haunted fear._] What have you heard about it?

MRS. VERNON. Why, it don't surprise me, Kate.

LIZBETH. They say Travers is the _train-robber_--

KATE. Lizbeth!

LIZBETH. Sam Fowler knew him the minute he saw him--, that's why Travers had to shoot--to git away!

MRS. VERNON. Not Sam?

LIZBETH. No, didn't shoot Sam.

KATE. There has been some mistake--these people have never liked Mr. Travers.

MRS. VERNON. I knowed he'd bring disgrace on the whole house, Kate. [_Getting sun-bonnet._] I'll go in through Mrs. Clark's back way--_she'll_ know--come, Kate, I'm your mother, and a mother never deserts her child. [_In stage heroics._

KATE. [_Recoiling._] I don't care to go.

LIZBETH. Take me, ma.

MRS. VERNON. Come on, [_Exit with_ LIZBETH.

KATE. [_In wild-eyed panic._] Oh, how dreadful! This is what I have felt coming all the day. It is my fault, too. If I had said 'yes' last night, or only gone with him this morning--it couldn't have happened. How horrible!--killed a man! They didn't tell me whom. I--I wonder if my name was mentioned? They said--_Lizbeth_ said--_a train-robber_--[_She leans on table for support._] That letter! Jim thought the writing looked like his. Jim--Jim has told others his suspicion--Yes--Jim Radburn has done it! I see! I see! Jim hated him--they have persecuted him for _me_--Oh! oh! Why did I not go last night?

_Enter_ TRAVERS, _pale and breathless--revolver in hand. He closes the door behind him._

TRAVERS. Kate!

KATE. Oh!

TRAVERS. Who's there? [_Points toward shop._

KATE. No one. What is the matter? Tell me what you did--that pistol!

TRAVERS. In self-defence--they would have killed _me_ if they could.

KATE. You _shot_ him?

TRAVERS. Yes. [_As she hides her face._] Kate! Kate! I can't come in front of the window--where can I go?

KATE. They will find you here. [_He turns, facing door with pistol, left hand holding door shut, menacingly._] No,--not that--you wouldn't shoot again! My father may come here!

TRAVERS. Kate! Do you believe me?

KATE. Yes.

TRAVERS. [_Pleading._] In self-defence--they were ten--ten to one.

KATE. You are bleeding!

TRAVERS. [_Covers hand._] The window cut me--give me a drink--I'm parching. [_She gets water in a dipper from bucket on bench._ TRAVERS _drinks with the tin rattling on his teeth. Noise of a galloping horse passes. He drops the dipper._] I don't think they saw me come in here.

KATE. Why did you come?

TRAVERS. Where else? I ran--turned every corner till I lost them. If I can hide or get a horse!

KATE. [_Doubting him._] Why did they try to arrest you?

TRAVERS. I--I don't know, Kate--some mistake.

KATE. They said the express robbery.

TRAVERS. It isn't so--

KATE. [_Goes to table and leans on it with her back to_ TRAVERS.] Ah!

TRAVERS. Kate, [_Pause._] Kate, [_Pause._] you must believe me! Why should I be here [_Pause._] in this little town--

KATE. Why did you shoot?

TRAVERS. I had to--they would have killed me--it is all a mistake--Kate, _Kate_--

KATE. What shall we do?

TRAVERS. If I had a horse--

KATE. But why?

TRAVERS. Listen!

_There is again the sound of approaching hoofs._

KATE. Some one is coming--[_He turns at bay._] No--I couldn't stand it--go in here--[_Opens closet._] Quick!

TRAVERS. Yes! [_He enters the closet--she closes the door of the closet and throws open the street door; goes to table._

JIM _rides into view and drops from his horse._

JIM. [_In door._] Hello?

KATE. [_Behind table._] Well?

JIM. [_After looking slowly about._] Where is he?

KATE. I--I--where is who?

JIM. [_In a matter of course way_] Travers.

KATE. Why, how should I know?

JIM. Then why don't you jes' say you don't know?

KATE. [_Behind chair._] Well, then, I don't know.

JIM. [_Shaking his head._] Too late now.

KATE. Too late?

JIM. Yes--if it'd been all right, you wouldn't a-tried to dodge me.

KATE. [_Near melodeon._] You may think as you choose.

JIM. [_Pause._] I'm awful sorry for you, Kate.

KATE. Oh, you needn't be.

JIM. [_On the "qui vive."_] But I want to see Mr. Travers.

KATE. [_In distress._] You--you annoy me very much. [_Sits left of table._

JIM. [_In real tenderness._] Why, Kate--Katie--see here--I'm your friend--they ain't anybody in the world feels as bad for you as I do--but be reasonable--it's only a question of time. I s'pose every man in Bowlin' Green that owns a gun or a bowie knife's collectin' up there at the Court House--your own pa and Dave--they'll be back here after a while--and what then?--don't you see?

KATE. It's horrible--don't tell me it is duty makes them hunt a fellow-man like that. [_Rises._

JIM. I don't pretend to know anything about that--[_Pause. Picks up dipper; looks at_ KATE.] Poor chap--thirsty--oh, well--that's your business, Kate. [_Puts dipper on the bench._

KATE. [_At bay herself._] You're not a man, Jim Radburn, you're a bloodhound--you _hunt_ men.

JIM. Yes! [_Pause._

KATE. Yes. [_End of rocker-chair._

JIM. See here, Kate--I want a word or two with Mr. Travers. I think the honestest thing he ever done was liking you--I--

KATE. [_Fiercely._] And that is why you _hate_ him! You think he likes _me_! You think if it hadn't been for _him_ I might have liked _you_! Well, I do like him--[_Pause._] that's why you hunt him! It isn't your duty prompts you--it's your jealousy!

JIM. [_A pause in which he decides the question._] He's in that closet.

KATE. [_Turning._] He is not.

JIM. [_Straddling a chair and facing closet. Speaks in ordinary tone._] Travers, _come out_. If you don't come out, I'll shoot through the door.

TRAVERS. [_Bursting from closet and levelling pistol._] Throw up your hands!

JIM. [_Pause. In fateful monotone._] You're a damn fool! The sound of a gun now would fill both them streets with pitchforks.

KATE. Don't--don't--shoot.

JIM. Oh, he won't!

TRAVERS. Do you think you can arrest me--alive?

JIM. It don't make no difference to me.

KATE. [_Anxiously pleading._] If you are innocent, Mr. Travers--if you have acted in self-defence--

JIM. Wait, Kate--we ain't got time to _try_ him now. He ain't got time; the boys are waiting up at the Court House. Mr. Travers, this young lady likes you--very much. [_He slowly rises._

TRAVERS. [_Still covering him._] I know the cause of your hatred, Mr. Radburn--I know you are here because I love her.

JIM. No, I'm here because _she_ likes _you_--if she didn't like you 'twouldn't make any difference to me how quick we came to terms; but she likes you--your Pinkerton friend--[_Pause. Indicating neck._] dead--the boys are up at the Court House. Clark is pretty hot about them Jumbo bottles, and they wouldn't be reasonable--my hoss is standing at the door--with anything like a fair start he can hold his own--Louisiana town is eleven miles away, and jist across from that is Illinois--and then you'll have to look out for yourself--now go!

KATE. [_With emotional appreciation._] Jim!

JIM. [_With a restraining gesture._] Never mind, Kate.

TRAVERS. You tell me to go?

JIM. [_Pause._] Yes.

TRAVERS. Why, there's ten thousand dollars' reward--

JIM. For the man that--went--in--that--car--but you ain't that man.

TRAVERS. On your horse?

JIM. Yes.

TRAVERS. Kate--[_Starts toward her._

KATE. [_Shrinking._] Oh--h!

TRAVERS. [_Holds out hand._] Jim Radburn!

JIM. No--I give you my horse, but I'm _damned_ if I shake hands with you--!!

_Exit_ TRAVERS. KATE _sinks in chair sobbing._ JIM _in doorway regards her tenderly._

CURTAIN.