OUTSIDE LOOKING IN
THE CAST
ACT I
Scene: A Hobo camp near a railroad bridge in North Dakota. A glimpse of the trestle at right; a few low willows hiding the coulee at the rear. At the left a few small trees. The foreground is strewn with the usual debris of tramp housekeeping; a circle of blackened stones, a square five gallon oil can, smaller cans, a few papers.
At Rise: Skelly, a thin fellow about eighteen, is lying asleep near the ring of stones, Bill and Rubin come in from the right.
Time: Autumn evening.
BILL. This is a hell of a jungle.
RUBIN. What’s the matter with it?
BILL. Well, just look at it; that’s all; just look at it.
RUBIN. Damn good jungle. I slep’ here three years ago. See that hill over there? That breaks the wind.
BILL. Hill? You call that a hill?
RUBIN. Damn near a mountain, that is.
BILL. Why there ain’t a hill in North Dakota tall enough to make a grade. There ain’t a mountain high enough to set down on.
RUBIN. D’you have to have a mountain to set down on? Well, when you hit Dakota you can stand up, see? [Sits right on fire stone.]
BILL. What d’you get?
RUBIN. I got a lump and I just bummed a towel and some soap.
BILL. Jeez! You must have slung a good line!
RUBIN. Yah! I gets desperate and tells a new one. I says, Lady, will ya gimme a drink o’ water? I’m so hungry I don’t know where I’m gonna sleep tonight. She was dumb and fell for it. She’s a widowwoman; said her brother’s a bum.
BILL. D’she ask you to marry her?
RUBIN. We didn’t get to that—I left about then.
BILL. Said her brother’s a bum, huh? Bet you I got a lump off the same one. Little skinny woman, gabbier’n a parrot?
RUBIN. Naw, this jane’s bigger’n a sprinklin’ wagon.
BILL. That’s two bums out of this town. Hustlin’ little burg it is, too. Full of bright young men tryin’ to get somewhere.
RUBIN [to Skelly]. Where from, ‘Bo?’
SKELLY [not moving]. East.
RUBIN. What’s the matter?
SKELLY. I certainly do feel rotten.
RUBIN. Yeah?
SKELLY. You know that Fairview jail? That’s where I was.
RUBIN. Bad grub?
SKELLY. Bad? Oh my God!
BILL. I heard of that jail. They got a rock-pile higher’n a church.
RUBIN. What’d they get you for?
SKELLY. They wrote it down “trespassin’ on railroad property” but what they really meant was “being able-bodied and not doing any work.” They certainly fixed me so I ain’t so able-bodied any more.
BILL. Must be hostile down around Fairview?
RUBIN. Any time you notice yourself comin’ into Fargo you better back track out of there. They’re so hostile they say it with pitchforks. I wouldn’t prospect within ten blocks of the agricultural college if you gave me one of them dormitories full of brass beds. I’d rather go pan-handlin’ in the Bad Lands.
BILL. Well, it ain’t so bad around here. [He sits.]
RUBIN. Do you know why?
BILL. No, why?
RUBIN. They don’t dare turn anybody away around here for fear it might be a relative!
BILL. I suppose you come from round here.
RUBIN. Naw—I was born in New York.
BILL. That so? You don’t look it.
RUBIN. It’s no place to live but it’s a good place to come from. Ever been in Long Island City?
BILL. Once.
RUBIN. You count seven houses from the end of the bridge. That’s where I was born.
BILL. Livery stable?
RUBIN. Hospital.
BILL. Oh, hell.... When do we eat?
RUBIN. Come on down to the coulee and scrub up. I’ll split the towel with you.
BILL. Don’t waste that river washin’ in it. There ain’t enough water now to make coffee.
RUBIN. Come on; we’ll wash up, and I’ll get some wood for a fire.
BILL [rising]. You wash up, and I’ll get the wood. I got my winter underwear on, and I don’t change ’till Spring.
[Rubin disappears left, Bill after him. Skelly has fallen asleep again. Mose, a gentle-looking negro, middle-aged, enters back, looks round and finally sits down near Skelly. After a moment Skelly starts in his sleep and opens his eyes.]
MOSE. I been watchin’ you sleep, white boy, and you suah sleep soun’.
SKELLY. How long you been here?
MOSE. ’Bout a minute.
SKELLY. Where’s the others?
MOSE. Ain’t no others, white boy.
SKELLY. God, I’m all in. You could ‘a’ rolled me for my change, couldn’t you?
MOSE. Not me, brodah. I don’t roll no one. Dough’s hard enough to git when you’s all in, down and out. Ah knows.
SKELLY. Which way, ’Bo?
MOSE. Ah’s going no’th, jus’ as fah no’th as ah can git. Ah’ve on’y been outa jail seb’n months down south. Ah do fifteen year, ever since I was twenty-three year old. Ah pick ‘nough cotton and build ’nough road and haul ’nough cane to plug up the Red Ribber of the South.
SKELLY. What’d they stick you in jail for?
MOSE. Ah didn’t do nuffin. Another nigger cuts me wit’ a razor an’ Ah cuts him back and they soaks me five yeah. Th’ other nigger don’ even die.
SKELLY. If he’d died it’d been worse.
MOSE. Couldn’t have been worse. Ah might just as well died mahsel’. Might just as well died. Ah serbes my time and about the last six months they hires me out to some big rich guy down theah. He kep’ me owning him so much I work ten years for nuffen. Every time Ah git a paih overalls he charges me some moah and when Ah ask him when Ah git free he say he lynch me Ah talk ‘bout that. Ah floats down the ribber on a log and Ah walks off to Kaintucky, and Ah been goin’ no’th ever since.
SKELLY. Well, you’re safe now, nigger.
MOSE. Ah knows better, white boy. Ah ain’t safe till Ah gits to Canada. Ah knows my ol’ boss. He kills a nigger laike he would a skunk. Ah knows. Ah seen him do it. Nigger done bother him one time, and he shoot him, and he say, “Take dat nigger away dere,” and Ah does.
SKELLY. What’d you do with him?
MOSE. Ah buried him. He was good ’nough nigger, too.
SKELLY. You sure had a devil of a time.
MOSE. Ah suah has.
SKELLY. Say, listen; there’s a bad guy in town. You look out for him.
MOSE. Who is he?
SKELLY. It’s the Snake—that’s who it is. Arkansas Snake.
MOSE. You say he’s a bad guy, white boy?
SKELLY. By God, he’s the original bad guy.
MOSE. Ah ain’t scared of no trash like dat, not me. Ah’m scared of my old boss, but Ah ain’t scared of no bad guys becaise Ah’s a good fast runner. White man chase me once an Ah run so fast he burn his feet in mah tracks.
SKELLY. Yeah, well you better keep your mouth shut, see, if he mosies in. I saw him on the street, and it was the Snake all right, and he’s a bad guy.
MOSE. Ah ain’t scared of no bad guys.
SKELLY. God, there’s something the matter with me. I got a thirst.
MOSE. Wha’ kin’ of a thirst, white boy?
SKELLY. Just a water thirst.
MOSE. That’s easy.
SKELLY. I been wanting a drink all afternoon and I’m too tired to go get one.
MOSE. Suah; you lie still. Ah’ll fetch you a drink o’ water.
SKELLY [starting up]. No, I want more water’n a drink. I’m going to ship a cargo of water. Nigger, when I get through with that river, they’re going to have to change the map.
MOSE. You better not drink too much out o’ dat pore little river, white boy, or you’re goin’ to drink it dry.
[Mose and Skelly go out left. Little Red comes in from the right, looks round a moment casually, then lifts a hand and Edna enters after him, dressed as a man. She is well disguised and would not be readily detected unless by her voice.]
RED. We’re all right, kid. I’ll start making a fire and you just lie around and don’t say anything. If anybody comes along start smoking cigarettes so you won’t have to talk. Let me do the talking. [Red collects kindling and Edna stretches out to watch him light the fire.] There’s only one freight out of here tonight and that’s a string of empties going west. Doesn’t stop this side of Wolf Point.
EDNA. Sure of that?
RED. I know this country like a book. Every time I get stranded in Williston I catch the eight o’clock on the grade.
EDNA. Listen, Red, my cigarettes aren’t the right kind.
RED. What’ve you got?
EDNA. Fatimas.
RED. My God, you can’t do anything like that here. Take my Bull and papers and give me the tailors. Can you roll ’em?
EDNA. Kind of.
[They exchange cigarettes.]
RED. Hope to God there’s nobody in town. If we get inside one of them empties we’re set for life.
EDNA. You know, Red, I’m scared, scared as hell. I’m trembling so I can’t—look at that hand. Ain’t it funny? [She holds up a hand with a cigarette paper in it.]
RED. Don’t get that way now, Kid, or you’ll queer yourself.
EDNA. All right.
[Silence.]
RED. You did it right?
EDNA. Yep.
RED. He’s dead?
EDNA. I’ll say he’s dead.
RED. Well, by God, I’m glad of it.
EDNA. I don’t know. [She shivers; Looks off left.] What’s that?
RED. [looking out left]. Somebody in the brush. ’Boes, I guess.
EDNA. Yeah?
RED. Don’t move. Not yet. Wait till I tell you.... You better roll that cig.
EDNA. All right.
RED. You just wave a hand—so—see? Let me talk. I’ll talk the arms off ’em.
[Red pulls a package of food from his pocket, and begins sharpening a stick to roast weenies. Bill and Rubin come in from the left, carrying wood for the fire.]
RUBIN. Hullo.
RED. How’s yourself?
BILL. Hot dog.
RED. You said it.
RUBIN. Looks like Coney Island to me.
RED. What you got?
BILL. Coffee and— [He brings a can of water to the fire and pours coffee into it.]
RED. Everybody flush? How about mulligan?
RUBIN. Ain’t enough time. Train pulls out at eight.
[Skelly and Mose come in from left.]
RED. You guys figure on dressing for dinner?
SKELLY. Now ain’t that hell? I might ‘a’ known it was formal. Say, you can tell winter’s comin’ on, the way that water feels. [Wiping hands and face from drinking.]
RUBIN. She’s going to be a tough night, mate. I’m going to beat it south as soon as I can make connections.
BILL. I met Frisco in Cincy the other day and he tells me they’re hostile down south. Pinchin’ every tramp that blows in.
RUBIN. It ain’t bad in N’Orleans. A guy can always get by there.
SKELLY. Well, this God-forsaken jungle is only good for Eskimos. [He takes a package from his pocket.]
RED. You must have a chill, brother. What do you mean, cold in September? It goes down to fifty below here.
RUBIN. About that time Florida’s a good place. Me and the rest of the government officials, we always spends them fifty-below nights in Florida. Hell, we don’t hardly come north to run for office any more.
SKELLY. The only winter home I got is the hoosegow, and it’ll be a cold day before I tries that again. I’d rather be outside lookin’ in. You ever do time?
BILL [making coffee]. Time? Time is what I ain’t never done nothin’ but. I can do any amount of time. Once there was a judge gimme a life sentence. And I says to him, “Judge,” I says, “give me a chance. Make it a hundred years.”
SKELLY [laying out lunches]. Yeah, and then what?
BILL. Hey, you, that’s the end of the story.
[Mose, who has been lingering on the outskirts, takes a package from his pocket and tosses it to Skelly.]
MOSE. Put that in with the rest, boy.
RED. Hey, go on, keep it. Keep it and eat it, old man. I guess maybe we can find a dog for you here.
[Skelly tosses the package back to Mose.]
MOSE. Mighty kind of you, boss. I suah am hungry for one of them.
SKELLY. You better save a couple for the Snake, just in case he didn’t have any luck.
RED. Who?
SKELLY. Arkansas Snake.
RUBIN [pausing in the act of taking a bite]. Snake in town?
SKELLY. I saw him this afternoon.
BILL. Is he turning a trick here?
SKELLY. I guess he’s just bummin’.
RUBIN. He’s all right if he’s sober.
SKELLY. Well, I never saw him sober then. First time I ever met him was in Pittsy. We got drunk together and that dynamite we was drinkin’ could make a humming bird fly slow. Next morning I was pretty wobbly, and when we went down to the yards to hit the stem he decided he didn’t want me round, so he lays me out and rifles my change drawers. Left me lying right between the tracks and all the time she was raining cats with blue feathers and green tails and when I come to I was wetter’n the Monongahela River. Well, sir, I lays still and the trains rolls all around me. If I’d a stretched out my hands they’d a been on the rails—then I’d a been a bum without grub-hooks. Naw! He didn’t make a very good impression on me!
RUBIN. Certainly is a dirty guy.
SKELLY. I’ll tell the cock-eyed world he’s dirty.
BILL. What y’ going to say to him if he shows up here?
SKELLY. You talk to him, will you? I’m gonta be in conference.
MOSE. Boys, they’s a whole army comin’ down the creek.
[A pause. Baldy, who has a livid scar across his face and Hopper, who walks with a crutch, come in from the right, followed at a little distance by the Snake, an evil-looking yegg, better dressed than the others. He sits down at the right without speaking.]
BALDY. By Judas Priest, everybody in the world is here. What is this, the Democratic National Convention?
BILL. Naw—this is the United Clam-bakers’ Union of Alberquerque, New Mexico.
RUBIN. This is the Amalgamated Chamber of Commerce of Beautiful Ossining on the Hudson.
BALDY. Say, cookie, is there any hot dogs for me, or is there gonta be a hot-dog scandal in this administration?
RED. There’s gonta be a hot-dog scandal if I don’t get any, because I bought ’em.
BALDY. Bought ’em like hell.
RED. Yes, sir, bought ’em with money. And what’s more I wasn’t expecting any young mass meeting of the international intelligentsia of the world when I laid in supplies. Didn’t you guys have any luck at all?
BALDY. Hell, no. Every back door I batters the woman says she’s fed seven already. The last one says, “My God, it’s another bum! I’ll put you on the bum!” and she sets two dogs on me.
RED. All right, you, come and get it.
[The newcomers, all save the Snake, share in the food.]
BALDY. Wait a minute, Hopper, give the Snake a chance. [He pours coffee for the Snake.]
BILL. By God, it’s the Snake; how are you, Arkansas?
[The Snake looks at Bill, looks away, spits deliberately. A gloom falls over the session.]
RUBIN [to Bill]. You must know him well. Next time you better set that to a tune and sing it. Maybe he’ll hear it.
BILL. I don’t give a damn.
[Baldy carries a cup and a sandwich to the Snake, who accepts them without thanks.]
RUBIN [to Baldy, as he returns]. Which way, ’Bo?
BALDY. Judith Basin. Goin’ to try the apples this year.
RUBIN [to Hopper]. Apples for you, huh?
HOPPER. I don’t know where th’ hell I’m going. Great Falls, Havre, any place.
RED. So? Try Belfast.
HOPPER. Yeah, I tried Belfast.
RUBIN. Everybody going out on the eight o’clock?
BALDY. Sure.
BILL. She’ll have to carry extra sleepers if this bunch climbs on.
RUBIN. Cold Jesus! Here’s another one.
[A pause. Oklahoma enters from the right.]
OKLAHOMA. Evening, travellers; how’s the eating?
BILL. Good, what there is of it—
RUBIN. And plenty of it, such as it is.
RED. Not much left, pardner.
OKLAHOMA. Fine—I don’t need any. I don’t need anything but a lift out of this little half-acre of hell. Anything running out of this place tonight, or do you die here waiting for a train?
RUBIN. There’s about a hundred west-bound empties going by in about fifteen minutes.
OKLAHOMA. Well, then, that’s one soul saved, because if I’d had to stay here all night, I was going to hunt up a half-a-bucket of water along the coulee somewheres to drown myself in. This ain’t a town. It’s a man-trap.
RED. You better have a bite, friend. It’s a long way to Wolf Point.
OKLAHOMA [taking a proffered sandwich]. Thanks. Yes, sir, I’ve rode on every railroad from the Florida Belt Line to Salt Ste. Marie, and I’ll be god-damned if I ever saw a country where the towns was so far between and few in a hill. And as for turning a trick, my God, they couldn’t scrape up enough change between Minneapolis and Idaho to start a chain grocery store. No wonder there ain’t any yeggs in North Dakota. You’d have to walk a thousand miles to find a safe big enough so you’d have the heart to blow it. What y’all doing here anyway?
RUBIN. Hell, we came out for the harvest and there ain’t any harvest.
BALDY. Apples is good in the Judith Basin.
OKLAHOMA. Oh they are, are they? Well, roses is good in May, too, but work ain’t my middle name. Let the married men do the work. That’s my motto. I’m through.
MOSE. Me too.
OKLAHOMA [gently]. Hullo, who said anything to you, nigger? Did you hear me speaking to you?
MOSE. Tha’s all right, boss. You go ahead and talk. Ah’m with you!
OKLAHOMA. Yeah, well did anybody ask you to come along?
MOSE. Nemind me, boss. Ah’m a good nigger.
OKLAHOMA [suddenly menacing]. Then keep your face shut, will you? [Mose starts to speak. Oklahoma raises a hand. Mose cringes good-naturedly and is silent.] Now after this you listen, see?
MOSE. Ah heahs you.
OKLAHOMA [conversationally]. God, this certainly is a collection of funny faces. I ain’t seen nothing like this since I left the home for decayed newspaper men back in City Hall Park. If this is what they call the floating population, it’s a God’s wonder the country ain’t drowned. All desperate men, too, ain’t you? All looking for work. Yes, sir; well, judging by what’s left of your shoes I guess maybe you are. A man’s got to have some ambition, and if he can’t think of anything he’d like better’n work, why he might as well work. Harvestin’, apple-picking, milking cows, that’s the stuff! Keep the country going! Put your backs into it! Now, boys, all together, swing them picks, lift them shovels, tote them hods! Yes, sir, here’s a little earnest band of working Gideons hitting the long road from heaven to hell and asking nothing better’n three meals a day and a job at something they won’t get nothing out of; here’s the goddam scions of the first families of West Hoboken and South San Francisco, descended from seven generations of bastards on the mother’s side and tracing their male ancestry in a straight line to more drunken sailors and ministers’ sons than you could count on an adding machine. Here’s a little goose-stepping gang of scared pirates that’s been kicked all over the United States without ever kicking back. Here’s a little Kiwanis Club of patriotic outcasts, voting a resolution to uphold the social order. Sic ’em, Tige, they like it. Oh, sweet Christ! Come to Jesus and join the working class. Workers of the World, unite! You have nothing to lose but your annual trip to Florida.
BALDY. You a wobbly, friend?
OKLAHOMA. Me a wobbly? Is that all you got out of it? Ask me something easy. Ask me if I’m a Y. M. C. A. extension lecturer or a Pavlowa finale hopper or the deputy inspector of the American Society for the care and prevention o’ children.
BILL [low]. Who’s the guy, anyway?
OKLAHOMA. And I don’t want anybody askin’ who’s th’ guy behind my back, you get that? When I want you to know who I am I’ll tell you.
SNAKE. Listen, ‘Bo, what th’ hell do you think you are? You better go get you a Sunday School class.
OKLAHOMA. Listen to me, ’Bo. You speak to me like that once more and I’m going to deposit a swift kick right where you part your pants. The last guy that talked up to me was carried into the corner drug store for first aid and his face won’t ever be the same.
[Snake rises.]
BALDY [to Oklahoma]. You better draw it mild, friend. You’re talking to the Arkansas Snake.
OKLAHOMA. So, it’s the Arkansas Snake, is it? Sorry I left my card case home, I’m sure. This is an unexpected pleasure. As for me, I’m Oklahoma Red, and when I speak somebody jumps.
[Snake hesitates; there is a pause.]
BALDY. Aw, that’s different, that’s different. Say, you two wild men ought to know each other. Boys, this is some little flush excursion from now on. I guess nobody can say this gang ain’t good company with a couple of steppers like the Arkansas Snake and Oklahoma Red.
OKLAHOMA. Stow it, stow it.
BALDY. Come on, now. [He raises his cup.] Drink to friendship! Here’s friendship, one and all. [Several cups and cans are raised, but the Snake and Oklahoma do not move.] Come on, set down and be sociable. You two yeggers don’t have to fight just because you’re both he-cats. The train’ll be along in five minutes anyway. There ain’t enough time for a good fight. Come on.
OKLAHOMA [to Baldy]. Turn off your gab. You talk like a Singer Sewing Machine agent. [Baldy sits.] I ain’t specially needing to kill anybody. If the Snake here wants to set down, I will.
BALDY. Take it easy, Snake. Remember we’re going somewhere.
SNAKE [seating himself]. That suits me.
OKLAHOMA. And what th’ ’ell was all the row about anyway? [He sits.]
BILL [rising]. Well, gents, all, I guess I’ll hit the grit.
RUBIN [rising]. Guess I’ll beat it with you.
HOPPER. You making the train?
BILL. Sure.
HOPPER. Well, here’s the place to get it.
BILL. We’ll get it, don’t you worry.
OKLAHOMA. Don’t vamoose on my account, children. I ain’t poured any juice since last Christmas. I slipped the dicks clean in Atlanta and they don’t know my mug north of Iowa Falls.
RUBIN. Oh, that ain’t it. We’re—
OKLAHOMA. Sure it is. I know. That’s straight, though. You can say your prayers and go to sleep easy. I ain’t no bait for bulls around here.
BALDY. No, nor us either.
BILL. All right. [He and Rubin sit.]
OKLAHOMA. Anybody got a watch?
RUBIN. She’ll whistle in plenty of time.
OKLAHOMA. Somebody give us a little tune, then. This jungle’s as dead as Sunday afternoon in a reformatory. Hey, you, Angel-face, can you sing?
[Edna shakes her head.]
BALDY. Who you travellin’ with, kid? [Edna waves hand.] Huh?
EDNA. Little Red here.
RED. He’s all right. Let him alone.
BALDY. Sure he’s all right.
RED. We’re heading for Frisco for the winter. Met up in Duluth.
BALDY. You two ain’t been on the road long, kid. It takes a lot of guts for green kids to beat through this country.
RED. Shucks. You got to start sometime.
OKLAHOMA. How old are you, kid?
RED. Me? Twenty.
OKLAHOMA. Naw, Angel-face.
EDNA. Fifteen.
SKELLY. That’s all right, young fellow, you’ll get whiskers yet.
RUBIN. Some guys don’t shave till they’re damn near of age.
[Snake rises and comes round the fire to a point where he can see Edna.]
BILL. Hell, I was all blossomed out at fourteen.
BALDY. Yeah, I’ll bet you was a beauty. And how old is the little one now?
BILL. Any time you want to know, you try looking at my teeth.
SNAKE [to Edna]. Hullo, baby!
RED. What’s eatin’ you?
SNAKE. Hullo, baby! Has it lost its daddy? How’s the little hoochi-hoochie, huh?
RED. Say, what’s eatin’ you, huh?
SNAKE. Go on! I guess I know a girl when I see one, whether she’s got clothes on or not. Hullo, puss-in-boots!
RED. Girl hell!
SNAKE. Go on! Nice little travelling companion you got, Red. This is sure one grand camp. All the conveniences—including lady friends. Come on, kid, warm up.
[At a sign from Red, Edna leaps to her feet. Red and Edna attempt to escape, but both are quickly pinioned from behind.]
BALDY [holding Red]. Keep your shirt on, boy.
SNAKE. Well, what do you say, what do you say?
EDNA. Well, what of it?
SNAKE. You certainly are one little lotus-flower, kiddie. I’ll bet you can love like hell.
[All the men have half-risen, watching Edna.]
EDNA. Maybe I can.
SNAKE. We’ll show ’em, hey, kiddie? We’ll show ’em!
EDNA. No, we won’t show ’em.
SNAKE. Oh, won’t we though?
EDNA. No we won’t. When I get through talking to you, dearie, you’re going to depart like there was a can tied to you. You can let go of me. I won’t run out on you. [Her arms are freed.] I’ll tell you why I’m going out on the freight. I’m travelling in pants because Red here went down to the station to buy a couple of tickets for No. 4 and ran across three deputies in the woman’s waiting-room. And they was waiting for me.
BALDY. Hell, we better beat it, Snake.
EDNA. Yeah, I thought so. And anybody else that wants to go had better get out now.
[Baldy and Snake start to go out right, followed by Hopper].
OKLAHOMA. What’d you do, kid?
EDNA. All right, I’ll tell you what I did—and then see how many of you stick around. [Baldy, Snake and Hopper pause to listen.] Back of Williston, over there, there’s a farmhouse with a cottonwood windbreak in the front yard. Maybe you saw it. It’s near the railroad bridge. That’s where I was born. And if you want to take a run back there and look you’ll find a dead man sitting in the dining room in the dark because there’s nobody to light a lamp for him. Sure, I’ll tell you how it was. You see, my mother died, that’s the beginning of it, and then I didn’t know any better, so I went wrong. I went wrong with my own step-father. You don’t need to believe it if you don’t want to, but that’s straight.
OKLAHOMA. Hell.
EDNA. Yes, it was hell, but I didn’t know it at the time. Then I found out a few things and ran away from home and the first thing I knew I was in a sporting house in East Grand Forks. I hadn’t been there long when I had to go to a hospital, and when I told the matron who got me into trouble she says, “My God, why didn’t you shoot him?” And I said, I guess I will. So I met up with Red and we got here this morning and I went out to the cemetery all alone and knelt down beside my mother’s grave and told her what I was going to do. I said, “Mother; I hope you can see me. I’m going to kill your man.” Well, he’s dead, and we’re getting out of here together, and we’re going so far it’ll take a dollar to send us a postcard. And then we’re going straight, both of us. Now, is anybody anxious to follow my trail?
OKLAHOMA. Don’t you worry, girlie. You’re all right. If anybody starts putting bracelets on you, there’s going to be trouble ahead of ’em enough to wreck the express. I’m for you.
SNAKE [returning]. Not so fast, old bleeding-heart. You ain’t the only passenger on the Great Northern. Now I’ve got reasons for going out on the train tonight, and it just happens I don’t want to be travelling with candidates for the death-house. Damn sorry to inconvenience you, I’m sure, but Red and his Angel-face’ll have to wait over for the next train.
OKLAHOMA. You wait over and see how you like it. The girl’s coming along.
SNAKE. I say Angel-face takes the next train.
OKLAHOMA. Oh, that’s orders, is it? [He leaps up suddenly. Snake puts a hand in his coat pocket.] Take your hand off that gat, Snake. Boys, you see that? [Bill and Rubin edge up behind the Snake who withdraws his hand.] Now we know where you got it, see? And listen; you ain’t safe with a gat. I don’t feel comfortable travelling with you while you nurse that little blue-iron. If you want to ride with us, you trun it away, see?
SNAKE. Like hell I will.
OKLAHOMA. I’ll give you one-half a split second to cough it up.
SNAKE. Come on, take it away, why don’t you?
[Bill and Rubin leap at Snake at the same instant, twisting his arms behind him. Oklahoma lifts the Snake’s gun and searches him for other weapons but finds none.]
OKLAHOMA. Remember, this is redeemable at the end of the line. If you ever need it, ask for it at the lost article window when you get to Spokane. Maybe they’ll tell your fortune for you.
SNAKE [to Bill]. I’ll put somebody on the blink for this.
BILL. Aw, don’t be so personal.
[A stranger strolls in casually from the left. In the growing darkness he looks much like a hobo.]
STRANGER. Well, boys, how’s everything.
OKLAHOMA. Fine, just fine. How’s yourself?
STRANGER. Never better, thanks.
OKLAHOMA. Glad to hear it.
STRANGER. You fellows staging Union services tonight?
BALDY. That’s good, Union services. Looks that way, don’t it?
STRANGER. Well, that’s all right. I don’t mind. Going to sleep here?
BALDY. Oh, no. We wouldn’t want to intrude, you know. We’re getting out.
STRANGER. Don’t like our town, huh?
BALDY. Sure we like it. Sure.
STRANGER. Well, it’s all right. Stick around. I don’t mind. You guys have got to sleep somewhere.
BALDY. That’s right, too. Yes, sir. We got to sleep somewhere.
STRANGER. Sure. Bunk down. Well, so long.
BALDY. So long.
[The stranger goes out left.]
HOPPER. Geez, he’s friendly.
BALDY. Ah, you think so. He’s looking for somebody. Like hell I’ll stick around here. He’s too affectionate.
BILL. Come on, ’Boes, throw your feet.
[There is a general wove to the right. A second Stranger enters from left, followed by a third.]
BALDY [low to Snake]. We better make a break for it.
SNAKE. Naw, see what he wants first.
SECOND STRANGER. Well, boys, how’s tricks?
[A pause.]
OKLAHOMA. Howdy, howdy.
SECOND STRANGER. Going anywhere?
OKLAHOMA. All depends, all depends.
SECOND STRANGER. Pretty cold sleeping outdoors, ain’t it?
OKLAHOMA. You mentioned it that time.
BALDY. Keeps down the mosquitoes, though.
SECOND STRANGER. Who all’s in your gang, anyway?
OKLAHOMA. This ain’t no gang. We just happened along.
SECOND STRANGER. I see. Just happened along, huh?
OKLAHOMA. You got it.
SECOND STRANGER. Well, that’s the way with me, see. I just happened along.
BALDY. You bumming to somewhere?
SECOND STRANGER. Well, all depends, see, all depends. I’ll try anything once.
[A pause.]
HOPPER. That’s what my old side-kick used to say. I’ll try anything once, he said, except the Soo. I don’t know why the Soo runs trains, he said, only mebbe they want to keep up the franchise. Got killed by a Soo train, too. Got run over at Bowbells crossing. He called me over to him where they had him layed on a stretcher. He said, this is going to be a lesson to me, me talking about the Soo. I won’t do that no more.
SECOND STRANGER. I’ll tell you, boys, we’re kinda looking round for a little red-headed guy that’s got a girl with him. Seen anybody like that round here this evening?
OKLAHOMA [running his fingers through his hair]. You don’t mean me, do you?
SECOND STRANGER. No, you don’t fit it. He’s a little guy; a little, fighting mick.
OKLAHOMA. No, guess we ain’t seen him.
SECOND STRANGER. Hasn’t been a girl along the track anywhere, has there?
OKLAHOMA. A skirt—not much. No sir, we ain’t seen no skirt here.
FIRST STRANGER [who has backed out to one side]. There she is, chief. We’ve got her. Up with your hands! You’re pinched! [He covers Edna with a revolver.] Up with your hands!
OKLAHOMA. Bunk down, eh? [Knocks out the chief.]
FIRST STRANGER [rushing toward Oklahoma]. Up with your hands!
OKLAHOMA. We’ll bunk you down, you double-crossers! [Knocks him out while Bill takes care of third Stranger.] So you like the nickel-plate, do you? Well you can wear it yourself!
[Quickly handcuffs them together. Gang laughs. Train whistles in distance.]
BILL. There’s the rattler! Beat it!
[They rush out to right, Oklahoma last with sandwich. First Stranger has come to, and is flashing light on Chief.]
CHIEF. Who the hell are you? [As Chief rises—