JIM.  Gumbo.

MRS. VERNON.  Gumbo?

BOLLINGER.  That’s what they call that soft mud the river leaves down there when it rises—­gumbo.

JIM.  It’s only a cushion so the joltin’ wouldn’t hurt him.  I just been with him to Clark’s drug-store. [To front.] Clark said he wasn’t a dog doctor.

JOE.  Wouldn’t ’tend to him, eh?

JIM.  No—­but I’ll square it with him.  He’s up for coroner.

[Starts for shop—­stops.] I told him that a man what’d see a little dumb animal suffer ought to be drummed out of town.  Is Dave there?

JOE.  Yes.

JIM.  Well, we’ll splinter this leg ourselves. [Going.

TRAVERS.  Why don’t you kill him, and put him out of misery?

JIM. [Pause in door.] Kill this little dog that took a fancy to me, and followed the stage when I got in it!

TRAVERS.  Yes—­why not?

JIM. [After appealing look to the others; then back to TRAVERS.]
Why, I never killed a man. [Exit into shop; JOE, MRS. VERNON,
LIZBETH, follow laughing.

BOLLINGER exits

TRAVERS. [Going to table.] What did he say?

KATE.  That he never killed a man.

TRAVERS.  Well, neither have I. Is that an unusual reputation in Pike
County?

KATE.  It is for one who, like Mr. Radburn, carries seven bullets in his own’ body, fired there by men he was arresting.

TRAVERS.  I’ve heard he was very fond of you.

KATE. [Turning away.] Don’t talk of that.

TRAVERS.  May I talk of my love for you?

KATE. [Turning.] Yes.

TRAVERS.  You are not happy here.

KATE.  I feel it is unworthy in me to say that I am not.

TRAVERS.  Yet, you are not—­

KATE.  The narrowness of the life oppresses me.  I do not live in their world of work and humble wishes—­they made the mistake of sending me away to school.  I have seen a bigger world than theirs. [Turns, elbows on table; impulsively.] I like you, Mr. Travers, because you are a part of that bigger world.

TRAVERS.  You like me, Kate!  Only like?  No more?

KATE.  I don’t know.

TRAVERS.  Will you go with me—­away from here, into that bigger world?

KATE.  Not until I am sure it is you for whom I go, and not merely for the liberty.

TRAVERS.  How will you ever tell?

KATE.  Some accident will teach me.  It is a dreadful moment, isn’t it, when we learn that kinship, the truest kinship, is not a thing of blood, but of ideas—­my college mates, who thought as I did, were nearer to me than my family, who never can think as I do.

Enter MRS. VERNON.

MRS. VERNON.  I never see such a hero as that little dog—­he jis’ seemed to know they was helpin’ him when they pulled them poor bones together—­jes’ look how quiet he stands—­whinnered a little, but didn’t holler ’tall. [TRAVERS goes up to door.