Chapter IX: Act III

_Scene: A deserted claim shack on the edge of Montana. There are two windows in the rear, a door at the left. No furniture has been left in the place save a stove which stands in the corner at the right and a kitchen table between the windows. A flour barrel stands on one side of the table, a fish keg under it._

_Time: It is just daylight the next morning._

_At Rise: Edna is still asleep on the floor at the extreme right, her face to the wall. Little Red sits bolt upright, the revolver on his knee, evidently guarding her. At the left, near the door, the hoboes are stretched out in heavy slumber. They are all here except the four who remained in the box car. Baldy stirs, yawns loudly, lifts his head, and looks at Red._

BALDY. Beautiful morning, Mickey.

RED. Yeah, ain’t it, though?

BILL. Shut up, will you?

BALDY. There, there; did we wake him up?

BILL. What the hell’s wrong with you? It ain’t mor’n four o’clock. I
got to get my beauty sleep, ain’t I?

BALDY. Well, you need it, all right.

BILL. All right, shut up and let me rest my hands and face.

OKLAHOMA [_sitting up_]. Well, my God, will you take a look at Red
here! He’s been standing guard all night, and expecting trouble any
minute. Red, you do beat hell. Didn’t you get any sleep at all, kid?

RED. I don’t need any sleep. I used to be a six-day bicycle rider.
Anyway, why in hell didn’t you hoboes look up a claim shack of your
own? We found this joint first.

OKLAHOMA. We didn’t know you was in here. And for the matter of that
there ain’t another shack within two miles and it was raining and
darker than a bushel of black cats. If you hadn’t lit the candle we
wouldn’t have found you in a thousand years.... It certainly is hell
to keep you awake like that. Why didn’t you go to sleep, you poor
fish? We was all asleep.

RUBIN. Who was awake?

OKLAHOMA. Aw, Red’s been awake all night, with the blue-iron all ready
for business. Afraid somebody’d steal his guinea.

RUBIN. Now ain’t that terrible? He won’t be hardly any good today
keeping them late hours and all. You’re going to lose your job with
the chippie, kid, if you go and get out of condition.

BALDY. That’s all right, Mickey; don’t let ’em kid you. Any time you
need it, I seen a sign back in Minot, Lost Manhood Restored. They do
it cheap back there.

RED. If they could do that maybe they could grow hair on that solid
ivory of yours. Why don’t you try ’em?

BALDY. I don’t need hair on my head. I got it on my chest.

HOPPER [_getting up to look out window_]. Jeez, it’s morning!

BILL. Aw, go to sleep.

BALDY. If you want to sleep, go on outside. There’s a million acres of
prairie out there with nobody using it. Pick yourself out a soft
acre and go to sleep in the middle of it.

BILL. Hell, I don’t want to wake up, because if I wake up I’ve gotta
have breakfast and where am I going to get it?

BALDY. Ah, the country’s lousy with jack-rabbits. Catch yourself one.
The way you beat it away from the rattler last night a jack-rabbit
wouldn’t have a chance.

HOPPER [_sounding on the flour barrel with his knuckles_]. There’s
somethin’ in this.

BALDY. God, he’s hopeful. I suppose you think it’s full of hot
muffins.

HOPPER [_reaching into the barrel_]. It’s flour. Can anybody cook?

BILL. I don’t want any of that. I’ll bet it’s full of boll weevil.

HOPPER. No, it’s all right. There ain’t even been mice in it.

BILL. Well, then, there must be something wrong with it.

RUBIN [_investigating the fish keg_]. Boys, we’ve got some rare old
pickled herring here.

OKLAHOMA. See if you can catch ’em. I’ll bet they’re playing tag in
there.

RUBIN. Come here, Bill. Is these fish any good?

BILL. Is fish ever any good?

RUBIN. Come over here and smell ’em.

BILL. I don’t have to go over there to smell ’em. I can smell ’em
here.

OKLAHOMA. Put that lid back on before they escape.

BALDY [_looking into the flour barrel_]. Let me see that flour. That’s
all right. That’s No. 1 hard, F.O.B. Minneapolis. I can make
something out of that.

BILL. Where you going to get your soda?

BALDY. What do you know about soda? If you want to be intelligent ask
me where I’m going to get the firewood.

BILL. I’ll bite, where you going to get it?

BALDY. Them as wants breakfast will step out and forage for it.

BILL. I knew there was a catch in it. Is _that_ all the better of a
cookie you are?

BALDY. I got to have some water, too. Get the hell out of here, you
bunch of bindle-stiffs, and let me work.

RUBIN. Say, if you’re going to work, I’d like to stay and watch you.

BALDY. All right, I’ll get it myself. [_He takes a pail from the table
and hands it to Hopper._] Here, Hopper. [_Kicks Bill out of door and
exits._]

BILL. You think he’s sore?

RUBIN. No—just the old woman’s way. [_He looks out the window, then
steps out._]

HOPPER. I’ll bet you have to walk a mile for water in this country.

[_He goes out, followed by Rubin. The Snake turns over, stretches
himself, takes in the situation and goes out._]

OKLAHOMA [_to Red_]. You don’t have to sit there all day with the gun
in your lap.

RED. How about last night?

OKLAHOMA. Well, what about it? You’re off the train, ain’t you? The
sentence was carried out by what the life insurance agents calls an
act of God. Everything’s been working out fine for them that loves
the Lord, including you two babes in the wood. Put your gun away. I
won’t bite you.

RED. What are you waiting round for?

OKLAHOMA. Because I want to talk to you.

RED. What about?

OKLAHOMA. Do you know why I was going to kick you off the train?

RED. Do I seem to be going blind?

OKLAHOMA. I’ll tell you, I didn’t want you to make a damn fool of
yourself.

RED. I’m certain obliged.

OKLAHOMA. You think I’m kidding you. Well, I’ll admit I liked the
little girl, but hell, I’ve seen a mort of fan-tails in my time. You
know what they’re good for. You don’t want to tie yourself up with
one of ’em, especially one with a record. Catch ’em young, kid,
treat ’em rough, tell ’em nothing.

RED. Did you hear me asking for any advice?

OKLAHOMA. Well, you’re just a God damn fool, that’s all.

RED. Is that all you had to say?

OKLAHOMA. That’s all.

RED. Then I guess you can go now.

OKLAHOMA. All right.

[_He rises. Edna stirs and sits up, brushing back her hair._]

EDNA. Lend me your comb, will you, Red?

RED. Sure. [_He hands it to her._]

EDNA. Where’s all the procession?

RED. Out for tinder.

[_A pause._]

EDNA. What were you two talking about?

RED. Oklahoma was just backing out the door.

OKLAHOMA. You know, for kids that’s supposed to know your way around,
I don’t know as I ever come across a pair of idiots as simple. First
you croak an old guy and then you set off across country for a
honeymoon with half a dozen detectives tied on behind you instead of
old shoes. I don’t get you at all.

EDNA. It does sound funny when you put it that way, don’t it?

RED. Well, life’s funny, anyhow, Oklahoma. You’ve got a lot to learn.

OKLAHOMA. Yeah, life is certainly funny; and the whole world is
certainly behind you two, getting ready to kick you good. You break
all the rules of the game and you don’t even play to win.

EDNA. No?

OKLAHOMA. The first rule in making a getaway is Scatter. The dicks
know Angel-face is travelling with a red-headed go-bragh. They know
Red is travelling with a lady friend. If they find you together you
incriminate each other. If you want to get away, why don’t you cut
loose?

EDNA. If they get their nickel-plate on me it’s good night, no matter
who’s with me.

OKLAHOMA. All right; but if they see you with Red they spot you as
easy as chalk on a door, and if you’re with somebody else they’re
off the scent. And Red here, he’s walking right into the sheriff’s
lassoo. Along with you he’d an accessory. Going it alone he’s just
any red-headed kid, and Christ, there’s plenty of them.

RED. Aw, we’re onto your little game. You can get the hell out.

OKLAHOMA. Well, as I said before, you’re just a God damn fool. You
think you’re noble or something. You probably saw a movie somewhere
and went completely nuts. You’re nuts over little Edna and she’s
nuts over you and she’ll have the satisfaction of ringing you in on
a short session of blind man’s buff out behind the Minot jail-yard.
You’re cuckoo. You two are going to have a grand time being buried
together and all.

RED. Have you ever been hung very much?

OKLAHOMA. No.

RED. Well, if you haven’t been hung, you must have got away. That’s
what we’re figuring on, getting away.

OKLAHOMA. Where to?

RED. Ask another.

OKLAHOMA. Oh, where are you going? You’ve got to get out and get out
fast.

EDNA. How about Medicine Hat?

OKLAHOMA. Yeah, that’s all right. How’re you going to get there?

EDNA. Cut north to the Soo and cross the border in the day coach.

OKLAHOMA. The Soo’s a hellish slow railroad. Still, you can’t ride on
this one any more. Yeah, you’d probably make it. And then what?

EDNA. Medicine Hat.

OKLAHOMA. And then what? Then Red goes to work for the gas company,
huh, or selling bath tubs to the Norwegians. You’d settle down in
one of them three-for-a-dime cottages and keep house. They’re a fine
church-going crowd up there and they’d take to you like hell. You’d
have a wonderful time. How long do you think you could stand it?

EDNA. There’s land up there....

OKLAHOMA. Or else you move into a claim shack and spend the winter
dancing to keep warm.

EDNA. Have to go somewhere, you know. Can’t be nowhere, like this.

OKLAHOMA. And then you’d start raising kids. Oh God! Do you call that
a future? How long d’you think Red’s going to last at that? He
hasn’t spent more’n three days in any one town since he was old
enough to find the railroad track.

RED. Say, are you going to talk all day? Sign off, will you?

OKLAHOMA. I’ll tell you what we’ll do, kid. I’ve got a small roll
left. We’ll let Red try the Soo on his own and you and I’ll pick up
a bus somewhere and never stop till we get to Colorado Springs. I
know a hang-out down there and I’ll show you the time of your life.
If you’re caught with Little Red you ruin him. You don’t want to do
that.

RED. Wake me up when he quits. Aw, bull!

EDNA. And what if I’m caught with you?

OKLAHOMA. Well, you won’t be, for one thing. And if you are—I ain’t a
walking identification tag like that guy.

EDNA. I guess maybe—I ought to do it.

RED. Do what?

EDNA. I ought to give you a chance.

RED. Do you mean you’ve been listening to that kangaroo?

EDNA. I guess maybe he’s right, Red.

RED. Do you want to go with him?

EDNA. Yes, I—I guess so. [_She rises._]

RED. No, you don’t. [_He rises._] And if you did, do you think I’d let
you? I’ll fill him as full of holes as a barrel of doughnuts first!
Go on out and take a running jump in the Missouri, you
hog-shouldered rag-picker, before I feed you a plate of ammunition!

OKLAHOMA [_looking at them in a puzzled way_]. Would you do that, Red,
would you actually do that?

RED. You try any monkey-business and you’ll find out! Hell, you talk
about slick Micks, if you ain’t the heavyweight soft-soaper of the
world I’d like to meet the guy that is! My God, you almost sold that
face of yours to a girl when she had another one to pick from! And
say, that face of yours would be a lovely thing to live with! Think
of looking at that across the breakfast table!

OKLAHOMA. Damned if I don’t believe the boy means it. You know I can’t
make you out, Mickey. I thought you’d probably be damn glad to get
rid of her. As a matter of fact I thought I was doing you a favor.
If you was looking for dangerous baggage you couldn’t pick up
dynamite any more likely to send you to your Happy Hunting Ground
than her. And here’s your best chance to shake loose, and you don’t
want to do it.

RED. No, damn you, no. D’you get that?

OKLAHOMA [_lighting a cigarette_]. I don’t know as I ever knew a case
like it. [_He sits down._] Do you know what I think’s the matter
with you two? [_There is no answer. Oklahoma speaks quite seriously
and speculatively._] You must be in love.

RED. I don’t care what you call it.

OKLAHOMA [_still pondering_]. Yes, sir; I’ve often heard about it, but
I never saw it before. I knew all the time there was something wrong
with you two. Yes, sir. That’s what it is.... Well, that being the
case we’ll have to make the best of it. Medicine Hat, huh? Medicine
Hat ... I can understand your liking her ... I liked her the first
time I got a flash at her pan—but this life-term stuff—oh, hell.

RED. I told you you had a lot to learn.

OKLAHOMA [_to Edna_]. You don’t want to come with me?

EDNA. I’d do it—for Red. You see, I’d do anything for Red. But if he
wants me to stick around—why, you know where you can go. Where the
Pope told the Cardinal.

OKLAHOMA. Aw, use a little diplomacy, Angel-face. Even a judge has
feelings. The old judge, damn his whiskers, is inclined to be
lenient. There’s something in the way you kids look at each other
that gives him a jolt. A couple of wild-eyed idiots that wants
anything the way you do—probably you ought to get it. I don’t know
whether you’ll like it after you get it—but that don’t make any
difference. If you want to go to Medicine Hat why it’s a deal;
you’re going. You’re going if the gang has to stage a massacre in
Wolf Point to pull the bulls off the track. Stow the side-arm, Red.
And shake. [_He holds out his hand._]

RED [_hesitating_]. No, I don’t like you, and I won’t shake with you.

OKLAHOMA. That’s all right. I don’t hold it against you. If I was to
count the number of guys that don’t like me on my fingers I’d have
to be a thousand-legged worm. You’re probably right, Red. I’m a
low-lifer and not to be trusted. But, damn it all, you’re an amusin’
little cuss, Red, and I kind of take to you.

EDNA. Grab the mitt, Red. He’s a good bet.

RED. Well, if you say so. Always the gentleman.

[_He puts the gun in his pocket and takes Oklahoma’s hand. Instantly
Oklahoma twists his wrist in an iron grip, whirls him round and
catches the other arm, holding Red like a vice._]

OKLAHOMA. You see, I got you easy. You see, Angel-face, Little Red was
right. I’m a low-lifer and not to be trusted. I talked you right
into a trap and you’re busted. I’ve got you. On the other hand,
speaking contrarywise, I don’t want you. I ain’t even taking your
gun away from you. I wouldn’t spoil your picnic for country sausage
and wheats, and God knows I’m hungry for breakfast. You two are
emigrating to Canada if I have to carry you across the dyke in a
basket. [_He releases Red._] Now, will you shake hands without being
told?

RED. Why, you double-breasted son-of-a-buck,—no.

OKLAHOMA. All right, kid.

[_Bill and Rubin enter, Rubin carrying kindling, Bill carrying lumps
of coal._]

BILL. You know what I found? I found a coal mine!

OKLAHOMA. A coal mine?

BILL. Right! A coal mine! Growing right out of the ground!

OKLAHOMA. Why, Bill, that’s grand. That’s simply grand! I didn’t think
you had it in you!

RUBIN [_laying the fire in the stove_]. I tell you that’s lignite.

BILL. Well, it’s coal, ain’t it?

RUBIN. They call it coal.

BILL. It’ll burn, won’t it?

RUBIN. Some people has been able to set it on fire.

BILL. Then what’s the difference?

RUBIN. What’s the difference between a duck and a mud-hen? That’s the
difference.

[_Oklahoma lies down and smokes a cigarette._]

BILL. Hell, if it’ll burn I’m going to make a fire with it.

RUBIN. You are not! I’m making this fire. If you want to try lignite,
try smoking it. It goes out as easy as a Richmond Straight.

BILL [_putting down his coal and looking at it_]. Aw, come on, give it
half a chance.

RUBIN. I damn near froze meself to death giving it a chance, one
winter. It don’t give off any more heat than a lightning bug.

[_He lights the fire. Baldy and Hopper come in with wood._]

BALDY [_to Rubin_]. Do you know how to do that?

RUBIN. Do I know how to do it? My specialty is setting fires.

BALDY. Ah, let me at that.

RUBIN. What the hell do you know about it?

BALDY [_he elbows Rubin away_]. Me, I’m the cow that kicked over the
lantern in Chicago. That ain’t no way. When it comes to starting
fires I’m the San Francisco earthquake. See that? [_He sets about
mixing water and flour in a basin._]

BILL. What’s that going to be?

BALDY. How do I know till I get it made?

BILL. Well, you might have some idea.

BALDY. Look at the menu. Maybe it’s waffles. [_He beats the mixture
vigorously with an iron spoon._]

BILL [_eyeing the operation_]. You know, I don’t think that’s going to
be much good.

BALDY. Well, for God’s sake! Who do you think I’m making it for—you?
You’re going to be lucky if you get any of this.

BILL. Yeah?

BALDY. What did you ever do to earn your breakfast anyway?

BILL. I got a half ton of coal here to sell, if anybody wants it. I
lugged it all the way from the river bottom, too.

BALDY. Well, you can take it right back again now. I don’t want this
here kitchen floor looking like a coal bin.

BILL. God, but you’re getting domestic.

[_Baldy pours batter on the griddle._]

RUBIN. Gee, that looks queer to me.

HOPPER. Looks kinda stringy, Baldy, and kinda lumpy. Maybe you better
beat it some more.

BALDY. Say, are you cooking this breakfast, or am I doing it?

HOPPER. I don’t know whether it’s breakfast or not, and I don’t know
whether it’s cooking, but whatever’s being done, you’re doing it. I
don’t want to be responsible.

OKLAHOMA. Come to think of it, in the best circles they ain’t really
eating breakfast since the war. Somehow, when I look at that there
that Baldy’s playing with, I ain’t got any appetite.

[_The Snake comes in, sits, and watches Baldy silently._]

RUBIN. Honest to God, now, Baldy, what is it you’re making, if any?

BILL. Ah, Baldy’s doing fine. If he had some ham now he could make
some damn good ham and eggs, if he had some eggs.

BALDY. That’s a new one, that is. You plucked that one fresh right out
of the Garden of Eden.

RUBIN. On the level, what d’you call it? Not that I give a damn.

BALDY. If you really want to know, it’s drop cakes.

BILL. I don’t like the name.

BALDY. No, you wouldn’t.

BILL. No, it reminds me of something.

OKLAHOMA. What’s the theory of ’em, Baldy?

BALDY. Well, the theory is, you beat ’em till you get air in ’em, see;
and then you don’t need anything to rise ’em.

OKLAHOMA. Oh yeah, well, maybe you didn’t beat ’em enough.

BILL. Maybe you beat ’em too much. You prob’ly knocked the wind out of
’em.

RUBIN [_tastes batter and spits it out_]. Did you ever make any of
them before, or is this a first attempt?

BALDY. Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t.... I used to be cookie in a
circus. Yah, I used to cook for the lions. I seen a guy make ’em
once.

BILL. Did he have any success, or did it look the way that does.

BALDY. Yeah, he had success, and it looked the way that does.

RUBIN. Did the lions eat any of it.

BALDY. Yeah, and it was damn good, too.

BILL. How many of ’em recovered? [_Baldy tries to turn a cake with a
spoon and has trouble._] Hey, that ain’t ready yet! That ain’t
ready!

HOPPER. I’ll bet you never greased the pan!

BALDY. Ah—what was I going to grease it with?

HOPPER. If you haven’t any grease you have to get the pan hot, and
then nothing’ll stick to it!

BALDY [_finally turning the cake with a flourish_]. Look at that! I
guess I got it hot enough. Who wants the first stack of wheats?

[_A grim silence._]

RUBIN. I got a weak stomach.

BILL. You got a weak stomach too? I’m on a diet.

RUBIN. My doctor says to me—“you can eat anything but drop cakes,” he
says. “Now you remember that,” he says. “One more drop cake is going
to kill you.” Imagine! And me passionately fond of drop cakes.

BALDY. I’m going to drop a cake of something on you that’ll kill you,
in just about a minute.

RUBIN. Don’t you hit me with any of them!

BALDY. You think I’d waste any on you, inside or out, you cheap
wise-cracker? These is for gentlemen. [_He places a cake on a
pie-pan and sets it in the middle of the floor._] This here’s for
Oklahoma. [_He sets out another cake on another plate._] And this is
for Arkansas. Come on, Snake. When you finish that there’s more
coming. Come on, yegger. The chow’s on the table.

OKLAHOMA. Women and children first. Give mine to Red and his angel.

BALDY. Naw, it’s for you.

EDNA. Oh, we can wait, Oklahoma.

BILL. In fact, they’d almost prefer to wait.

OKLAHOMA [_seating himself near his plate_]. All right, come on,
Snake. The chef’s a friend of yours. You got to stick by your
friends.

SNAKE. All right.

[_He sits near his cake. Each takes out a jackknife, opens it, cuts
off a bite and tastes deliberately._]

RUBIN. How is it?

OKLAHOMA. Say, you boys ought to get in on this. It’s an experience.

BILL. What’s it like?

OKLAHOMA [_with a wry face_]. God, there’s no describing it. You got
to eat it to believe it.—Snake, you and me has had hard words before
now. I don’t know as we ever agreed about anything before. But
something tells me that we got something in common from now on. Am I
right?

SNAKE. I’ll bet I don’t like ’em as much as you do.

OKLAHOMA. By God, I don’t know. I don’t like ’em much.

BALDY. What’s the matter with ’em?

OKLAHOMA. They’re all right, Baldy; they’re damn good, you know; only
they’d be even better if they was cooked.

BALDY. Ain’t they cooked? Sure they’re cooked.

OKLAHOMA. They’re hot, all right, and of course cakes is good hot, but
I do like ’em to be cooked, too.

BALDY. Hell. I can cook ’em some more. [_He lifts the cakes from the
floor and puts them back on the pan._]

OKLAHOMA [_sighing as he rises_]. There! A man always feels better
after a good meal. [_He glimpses someone out the door._] Who’s that?

BILL [_looking out_]. It’s Mose.

RUBIN. Now how in hell did he get here?

HOPPER. Right at present he’s walking.

[_Oklahoma goes to the door and calls._]

OKLAHOMA. Heigh!

MOSE [_outside_]. Heigh! White man! [_He enters._] Yes, sir; I done
found you at last!

BILL. Where you been?

MOSE. Gettysburg and other burgs, white boy. Ah been huntin’ you all
since daylight.

OKLAHOMA. What’s the trouble?

MOSE. Where does you all think you is?

OKLAHOMA. We figured we’re in the middle of nowhere.

MOSE. Well, you ain’t. You’re just three miles from Gettysburg,
Montana, counting telephone poles, an’ it ain’t far ‘nough. When we
rolls into the yards last night, I sneaks up to the railway station
to find out what’s going on. And there was suah plenty goin’ on.
There was the sheriff with a telegram in his hand, swearin’ in
deputies by the wagon-load and holdin’ a session with the
train-crew. He says so’s ev’body could heah him they was goin’ to
staht down the railroad track as soon as it was bright enough to
see, and foller yo’ trail in the mud and get yo’ asleep. Ah has just
barely beat him heah, becaise there’s two posses closin’ in on you,
the fust one comin’ from town and the second one comin’ from the
riber. If you’all wants to get away you better make a break no’th up
the coulee, and you better do it fast. That’s all. Ah’s goin’.

[_He turns to the door. Oklahoma blocks his way._]

BILL [_jumping up_]. Jesus!

OKLAHOMA. Wait a minute. We got to do this right or nobody’ll get
away.

MOSE. Boss, Ah don’t want to get in on no trouble.

OKLAHOMA. Sorry, Mose, you’ll have to wait a sec.

BILL [_as the whole gang gets ready to go_]. Where’s my goddam hat?

BALDY. You won’t need any hat where _you’re_ going.

BILL. Hell, where is that hat? Has somebody got my hat?

RUBIN. Your hat? You got it on, you poor nut!

BALDY [_to Oklahoma_]. Gangway there!

OKLAHOMA. Not so fast.

SNAKE. Step out of the way, will you?

OKLAHOMA. Nope. You boys’ll have to wait a minute. I got something to
tell you.

HOPPER. Make it snappy, then. I got a lame leg and I can’t run fast.

OKLAHOMA. Well, you can listen fast. Now, look here; if we make a
break in a bunch we’re almost sure to get picked up. They’ll spot us
sure as hell—and then what happens? Why, little Red and Edna get the
hemp and the rest of us get thirty days for being in bad company.
There’s only one thing to do. We let little Red and Edna slip away
up the coulee and we stay here and parley the posse. If we do it
right we can hold ’em long enough to give the kids a handy start.
And we won’t get any more time’n we’ll get anyway if we stampede
across the prairie.

BALDY. Get out of the door!

SNAKE. Stand away from there!

OKLAHOMA. You heard what I said?

SNAKE. Stand away from there!

OKLAHOMA. You’re used to having your own way, ain’t you, Snake? Up to
the time you met me you was completely spoiled. And since you met me
you never do get your own way. It’s hard on you, and you’ve got my
sympathy. But don’t talk so loud. [_Snake rushes Oklahoma and is
knocked back into the room. Baldy follows, meets the same reception,
and falls athwart the Snake._] Mickey, beat it. Come on, Angel-face.

[_Red and Edna go toward the door._]

RUBIN. Go straight north and you’ll hit Ardoch! Take the local!

RED. Fine!

OKLAHOMA. If you have to buy tickets, here. [_He hands his roll to
Red._]

RED [_taking it_]. You’re the God-damnedest old—

OKLAHOMA. Shut up and get out. [_He keeps his eye on the hoboes._]

EDNA [_kissing Oklahoma_]. Good-bye, old timer.

OKLAHOMA. Good-bye. [_Red and Edna go. Mose crawls behind the stove._]
What you doing in there?

MOSE [_Looking out_]. Ah’m just trying to get warm.

OKLAHOMA. Now, here’s the rest of the story. We’ve got to cook up
something to tell the bulls so we’ll all give it to ’em the same
way. This is how I figure it out. If they don’t know Angel-face was
with us we won’t tell ’em. And nobody knows who kicked the dick off
the train, see? That was just an unhappy accident, that’s all. The
poor guy lost his balance and fell. And no matter what they say
nobody here knows anything about the row at Williston, get that?
That must of been another gang. And if we can do it we’ll make ’em
think we never saw Red or Edna, either. Bill, look out the window
and see if Red’s out of sight.

BILL [_looking out_]. They just went behind the willows.

OKLAHOMA. Then they won’t see them, that’s sure. There’s only one
thing wrong with the dope. They know the kids was on that train and
they won’t quit hunting till they get ’em. Now if there was only
somebody here that looked like a frail he could play Angel-face and
that’d certainly gain time.

RUBIN. Maybe I could do it.

BILL. You need a shave too bad.

RUBIN. Baldy, he ought to be able to do it.

OKLAHOMA. Or if there was only another little red-headed guy.... [_He
looks out the door._] They’re coming, ’Boes; lie around and look
natural. There’s fifty of them.

[_Deputies appear at windows, crashing in glass, and then the sheriff
appears in the doorway._]

SHERIFF. Hullo.

OKLAHOMA. Yes, sir. Quite so.

SHERIFF [_to those behind him_]. We’ve got ’em trapped, boys. [_A
couple of men appear in the doorway with guns._] The gang’s covered.
Put up your hands. [_The hoboes lift their hands. The Sheriff
enters._] Get up and line up here. [_They all get up and stand in
line except Mose._] Search ’em. [_A deputy enters and slaps their
pockets, finding no weapons._]

DEPUTY. They’re harmless, chief.

SHERIFF. Lower your hands, but stand still. Where you from? [_There is
a silence._] Well, speak up.

OKLAHOMA. We’re from everywhere, chief.

SHERIFF. Who are you?

OKLAHOMA. Me? I’m a decayed mining engineer, out of work.

SHERIFF. A mining engineer? I’ll bet you mined gold out of little iron
boxes when you was working.

OKLAHOMA. Now, chief, is that fair? You’re pinning a rep on me without
no evidence.

SHERIFF. I don’t need evidence when I see a face like that.

OKLAHOMA. Yeah, I often used to say that myself.

SHERIFF. You did?

OKLAHOMA. Yeah, I used to be a judge.

SHERIFF. Yes, I daresay. Well, now, I’ll tell you who we’re looking
for, and if you can help us out you’d better do it. We’re looking
for a little red-head and a girl that beat it out of Williston last
night on the freight. If you can tell us where they are we don’t
want this bunch. You can get the hell out of here, the faster the
better for you. If you can’t help us out why you’re going to Wolf
Point and enjoy our hospitality till we find out all about that
little affair back in Williston.

OKLAHOMA. What happened at Williston?

SHERIFF. Just a nice little murder. They found a farmer sitting at the
lunch table with three bullets in him.

OKLAHOMA. Now who do you suppose would do a thing like that?

SHERIFF. The girl did the shooting—and she was on the freight last
night. Who saw her?

OKLAHOMA. Hell, we came in the other way, chief. We’re all going east.
We ain’t seen no girl.

1ST DEPUTY [_stepping in_]. Like hell they was going the other way!
Chief, our squad traced this gang in the mud all the way from the
river where they got kicked off.

SHERIFF. Yeah? What did you want to lie to me for?

OKLAHOMA. I don’t want to get mixed up in no murder.

SHERIFF. Hold your jaw for a while. I’ll get back to you later. [_To
Rubin._] Were you on that west-bound freight last night?

RUBIN. Yep.

SHERIFF. Was there a girl on the train? A girl travelling in pants.

OKLAHOMA. Sure there was.

RUBIN. Sure there was.

SHERIFF. Where is she now?

OKLAHOMA. She fell in the Missouri and got drowned.

RUBIN. Yeah, that’s right. She fell in the Missouri and got drowned.

SHERIFF. How’d it happen?

OKLAHOMA. We was just—

SHERIFF. Drop your trap! Go on, you.

RUBIN. We was just riding along over the river, and we had the door
open, and she was leaning against the side looking out, and the
train gave a swerve, like that—you know—and she went out—that’s all.

SHERIFF. That sounds kind of phoney to me. [_to Baldy_]. Who are you?

BALDY. Ex-soldier. Honorable discharge. See that? [_Pointing to his
scar._]

SHERIFF. How’d you get that?

BALDY. Fighting for my country.

SHERIFF [_to Bill_]. Did you see a guy called little Red on the train?

BILL. Me? Little Red?

OKLAHOMA. Sure he did.

BILL. Sure I did.

SHERIFF [_to Oklahoma_]. One more break like that, old yegger, and
you’re going to be breaking rock. [_To Bill._] Where’s little Red
now?

OKLAHOMA. He don’t need to answer that. I’ll answer that. I’m little
Red.

SHERIFF. You are?

OKLAHOMA. Yep.

SHERIFF. You carry too much weight to answer to that alias, my friend.

OKLAHOMA. Aw hell; that’s why they call me little Red. Because I ain’t
little.

SHERIFF. You own up to the shooting?

OKLAHOMA. No, sir. I had nothing to do with it. That was the girl’s
private affair.

SHERIFF. What’s the girl’s name?

OKLAHOMA. I don’t know what her last name was, but her first name was
Emily or Evalina, or something. Anyway she’s dead.

SHERIFF. So you’re little Red, huh?

OKLAHOMA. I said it.

SHERIFF. Boys, is that what you call him?

BILL. Yeah, he’s little Red. I wouldn’t have told you, only he told
you first.

SHERIFF. Fine. That makes you an accessory.

OKLAHOMA. The hell it does. I tell you—

SHERIFF. Tell that in the dock. Boys, we’ve got an accessory.

OKLAHOMA. Like hell.

SHERIFF. If you want to get out of here without having your face
wrecked, shut up till we ask you to talk.

OKLAHOMA. That’s jake with me.

SHERIFF [_to Snake_]. You. That story about the girl falling in the
river. Is that straight?

SNAKE [_after a pause_]. About the girl falling in the river? Sure,
that’s straight.

SHERIFF. I see. All right, ’Boes. The Wolf Point county jail is next
on the route. Left by file. Forward....

OKLAHOMA. Just one question, chief. Is the cooking good in your jail.

SHERIFF. Couldn’t be worse. It’s terrible.

OKLAHOMA. Oh God, and I lost all my money in the river, too.

SHERIFF. Forward! March! [_The gang files out the door. The sheriff
lingers a moment._] Is there something scorchin’ in here? Smells
like it.

2ND DEPUTY. Ah, it’s their damn pancakes.

SHERIFF. Ah, let ’em scorch!

[_They go out. After a moment, Mose comes out from behind the stove,
his face contorted with pain and rubbing his shoulder with his hand.
He looks out cautiously, then comes back, muttering to himself._]

MOSE. Scorchin’! My God, Ah’m burnt to a crust!

[_He goes to the stove, takes a pancake, blows it to cool it, and sits
down with it. He tries it, doesn’t like it, then takes a paper
package from his pocket and sprinkles the pancakes with salt. Trying
it again, he likes it no better. He rises, looking down at the
thing._] Looks like food. But it ain’t.

[_A deputy appears in the door. Mose goes to the stove and picks up
the frying pan, looking earnestly at the contents._]

DEPUTY. Hey, you! [_Mose leaps dropping the pan._] Come on, I saw you
jouking around in here.

MOSE. Listen, boss; what time is it?

DEPUTY. Five o’clock.

MOSE. What time does you have breakfast in jail?

DEPUTY. Six.

MOSE. All right. You don’t need no irons. Ah’s comin’ quiet.

[_They go out._]

CURTAIN

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.