KELLY. [Coming down with TRAVERS.] You’d risk your neck for that girl?

TRAVERS.  I’m all right, Kelly.  I’ll get out to-night, but I’ve got to see her first.

They go up and exeunt.

BOLLINGER.  Joe.

JOE.  Yes.

BOLLINGER. [Looking off carefully.] I see Jim last night after we left here.  He says he’s out of the race for Legislature.

JOE.  That’s what he says.

BOLLINGER.  Why?

JOE.  Well, what did he say?

BOLLINGER. Personal reasons.

JOE.  Well, that goes—­all right, Cal,—­put her on now, an’ let ’em get out.

Wheel is done. CAL takes it up to coach.

BOLLINGER.  Well, you’re jes’ as good as elected then, Joe.

JOE.  Think so?

BOLLINGER.  Sure.  See here. [Aside.] Folks down in Louisiana thinks Jim will be the nominee.  I’m goin’ down to-day to bet fifteen or twenty dollars he won’t, ’fore they hear of it.

JOE.  No promises.

BOLLINGER.  No, sir-ee—­put up, or shut up—­I’ve got twenty-two and a half in my pocket—­some of it’s Clark’s, but blamed little.

Re-enter JIM with pan of milk—­kneels by dog and feeds it.

SARBER.  Now stand out of the way there.

BOLLINGER.  Goin’, Bill?

SARBER.  Soon as we hitch.

They take wagon out. BOLLINGER, KELLY, TRAVERS and SARBER go out with wagon.

JOE.  Come Cal—­[CAL turns.] Hash! [CAL exits.] Breakfast, Jim.

JIM.  Had it.

JOE.  Come, set with us. [Exit, followed by JIM.

Enter TRAVERS.

TRAVERS.  Kelly is right.  I should go on that coach—­but—­I must see
Kate—­they’re at breakfast—­if I only—­yes, just a minute. [Beckons
KATE.] I wish that fellow wasn’t here.

Enter KATE.

KATE.  Mr. Travers.

TRAVERS.  I should leave on that coach.

KATE.  Do I keep you?

TRAVERS.  Yes.

KATE.  Why?

TRAVERS.  Because when I leave Bowling Green now, I shall never come back.

KATE.  You—­you are jesting.

TRAVERS.  In dead earnest. [Slight clatter of dishes—­KATE looks off.] Do you care for that man?

KATE. [Coming down.] I admire him.  I think he is a good and a noble character.

TRAVERS.  Better than I am.

KATE.  He may be,—­but—­I don’t love him—­

TRAVERS.  Do you love me?

SARBER. [Off.] All ready; get in.

KATE.  The stage is going. [She turns.

TRAVERS.  Do you love me?

SARBER.  Get in.

TRAVERS.  Do you?

KATE. [Pause.] Yes.

TRAVERS.  Then let them leave—­[SARBER calling “git ap”—­and a whip cracks.  We hear stage—­voices go.] Will you go with me—­to-night?