KATE. Good-evening, Mr. Travers. TRAVERS _appears at door._ TRAVERS. Good-evening, Miss Vernon--good-evening, Colonel. BOLLINGER. Evening. TRAVERS. The rain seems to be over at last. [_He fans himself with his hat._ BOLLINGER. I reckon we'll have some more of it with that ring around the moon. TRAVERS. [_Coming into doorway._] Anything new about the express robber?--Good-evening, Mr. Vernon. JOE. [_Up to stove; tries bottle._] How are you? BOLLINGER. I ain't heard anything 'cept what's in the morning papers. TRAVERS. What was that? I didn't see them. BOLLINGER. Why, the blamed cuss has mailed one of the empty money-wrappers to the _Globe-Democrat_ to show he's the real robber, and sent a letter sayin' Sam Fowler was innocent. TRAVERS. Yes? Well, did that do any good? BOLLINGER. On the contrary, sir, the express company says he wouldn't be so anxious about Sam--if Sam weren't a friend of his'n. _Re-enter_ MRS. VERNON _and_ LIZBETH. LIZBETH _to rocker._ MRS. VERNON. [_Pleasantly._] Good-evening, Mr. Travers. TRAVERS. Good-evening, Mrs. Vernon--Miss Elizabeth. LIZBETH. Good-evening. MRS. VERNON. Hasn't Kate had the politeness to ask you in? TRAVERS. Well, it's a little cooler out here. KATE. Won't you come in? MRS. VERNON. Do come--the skeeters'll kill you out there. TRAVERS _enters._ JOE. Don't sit there. I just splashed some water there, an' it'ud spot them pants scandalous. [_Down to melodeon._ MRS. VERNON. Lizbeth, give Mr. Travers the rocker. LIZBETH _to bench._ TRAVERS. Oh, no, I beg of you. MRS. VERNON. Yes, it's the most comfortable. [_Places the rocker for him._] Vernon there had to put his feet through it yesterday, fixin' the stove pipe, and they ain't been no furniture man along to mend it, though he ginerally comes Fridays. TRAVERS. Thank you. [_Sits;_ KATE _to chair at table;_ MRS. VERNON _to cupboard, busy._ JIM. [_Off._] Hello, Bollinger, can't I shake you? BOLLINGER. Well, looks like you was doin' the followin'--ha, ha! JOE. Is that Jim? BOLLINGER. Yes--comin' here--[_Calls._] You ain't got that cripple with you yit? JIM. Yes--where do you think I'd leave him? _Enter_ JIM RADBURN _from right to door, with small yellow dog in his arms. One front paw is tied up._ JOE. Hello, Jim, what's that you got there? JIM. Er--a--his leg's broke. JOE. [_Laughing._] Didn't pull a gun on you, did he? JIM. The blamed fool dropped a fence-rail on him. Good-eve'n'g, Kate. KATE. Good-evening, Jim. MRS. VERNON. 'Tain't one o' Beauty's pups, is it? JIM. No, 'tain't no dog o' mine. Jes' follered me--run after the stage--then, when she was stuck in the mud, Bill Sarber dropped a rail he was prying with, and--broke his poor little leg. BOLLINGER. Sarber's the awkwardest cuss anyhow. MRS. VERNON. Always was. BOLLINGER. Then he laffed, and Jim made him 'pologize to everybody in the stage. JIM. [_Looking about._] What you been doin' to the room? JOE. [_Proudly._] Took out the partition.