MRS. ABNER (_in a mysterious whisper_). Look at Mr. Murray, dearie.
Ain't he nervous to-day? I don't know as I blame him, either. I heard
the doctor said he'd let him go home if he gained to-day. Is it true,
d'you know?
EILEEN (_dully_). I don't know.
MRS. ABNER. Gosh, I wish it was me! My old man's missin' me like the
dickens, he writes. (_She starts to go._) You'll be over to the cottage
in a while, won't you? Me 'n' you'll have a game of casino, eh?
EILEEN (_happy at this deliverance_). Yes, I'll be glad to.
STANTON. Cordero!
(Mrs. Abner _goes out._ Eileen _again starts towards_ Murray,
_but this time_ Flynn, _a young fellow with a brick-coloured,
homely, good-natured face, and a shaven-necked haircut, slouches
back to_ Murray. Eileen _is brought to a halt in front of the
table where she stands, her face working with nervous strain,
clasping and unclasping her trembling hands._)
FLYNN (_curiously_). Say, Steve, what's this bull about the Doc lettin'
yuh beat it if yuh gain to-day? Is it straight goods?
MURRAY. He said he might, that's all. (_Impatiently._) How the devil
did that story get travelling around?
FLYNN (_with a grin_). Wha' d'yuh expect with this gang of skirts
chewin' the fat? Well, here's hopin' yuh come home a winner, Steve.
MURRAY (_gratefully_). Thanks. (_With confidence._) Oh, I'll gain all
right; but whether he'll let me go or not---- (_He shrugs his
shoulders._)
FLYNN. Make 'em believe. I wish Stanton'd ask waivers on me. (_With a
laugh._) I oughter gain a ton to-day. I ate enough spuds for breakfast
to plant a farm.
STANTON. Flynn!