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. ACT IV. SCENE. _Exterior of_ JIM RADBURN'S _cabin-front, stoop and steps showing. Rail-fence partly broken down is across the stage at right and continues in painting on the panorama back-drop of rough country with stacks of cord wood. Many stumps showing. A mud road winds into the distance, a stile crosses fence._ DISCOVERED. JIM _on step with pencil and queer note-paper, writing on a piece of broken board._ JIM. Hello! Dropped my pencil. [_Picks it up._] Of course fell on the "buttered side," an' I've got to whittle it agin. [_Takes enormous knife from his pocket and opens it._ _Enter_ EM'LY, _with milk-pails filled._ EM'LY. Say, Jim-- JIM. [_Whets knife on boot._] Well? EM'LY. You let the pony out? JIM. [_Sharpens pencil._] No. EM'LY. Ain't in his stall. JIM. I know. [EM'LY _looks at_ JIM _a moment and exits back of house. Looking at paper._] I reckon that's right--Mayor and City Council--[_Writes--first wetting pencil in his mouth._] Huh--I s'pose I ought to write it in ink--dog gone it--[_Writing through his speech._] If it wasn't for Em'ly I wouldn't care--not a damn--[_Looks up._] I wonder whether it's U.G. or E.G. [_Writes._] I'll jus' kinder round off the top an' play it both ways. "Resignation," and after that, why they kin see me personally. _Re-enter_ EM'LY, _with pails empty._ EM'LY _sings._ EM'LY. [_Pause._] Who did let him out? JIM. Who? EM'LY. Pony. JIM. Me. EM'LY. Why, I thought you said you didn't. JIM. Well, not to pasture; I give him to a feller. EM'LY. [_Surprised._] Give him? JIM. Yes. EM'LY. Why? JIM. [_With meaning._] He needed him awful bad. [_Writes._ EM'LY _stands looking at him a moment; then turns to go._ EM'LY. Say! [_Puts pails down._ JIM. What? EM'LY. Here comes Sam. JIM. [_Writing and not looking up._] Bully! EM'LY. You want him? JIM. No, but I reckon you will.