F=>RIOE IS OENTS 
 
 PS 3505 
 
 .R675 
 5 15 
 1918 
 Copy 1 
 
 Innocent Desperado 
 
 Vance C. Criss 
 
Successful Rural Plays 
 
 A Strong List From Which to Select Your 
 Next Play 
 
 FARM FOLKS. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur 
 Lewis Tubes. For five male and six female characters. Time 
 of playing, two hours and a half. One simple exterior, two 
 easy interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Flora Goodwin, a 
 farmer's daughter, is engaged to Philip Burleigh, a young New 
 Yorker. Philip's mother wants him to marry a society woman, 
 and by falsehoods makes Flora believe Philip does not love her. 
 Dave Weston, who wants Flora himself, helps the deception by 
 intercepting a letter from Philip to Flora. She agrees to marry 
 Dave, but on the eve of their marriage Dave confesses, Philip 
 learns the truth, and he and Flora are reunited. It is a simple 
 plot, but full of speeches and situations that sway an audience 
 alternately to tears and to laughter. Price, 25 cents. 
 
 HOME TIES. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur 
 Lewis Tubes. Characters, four male, five female. Plays two 
 hours and a half. Scene, a simple interior — same for all four 
 acts. Costumes, modern. One of the strongest plays Mr. Tubbs 
 has written. Martin Winn's wife left him when his daughter 
 Ruth was a baby. Harold Vincent, the nephew and adopted son 
 of the man who has wronged Martin, makes love to Ruth Winn, 
 She is also loved by Len Everett, a prosperous young farmer. 
 When Martin discovers who Harold is, he orders him to leave 
 Ruth. Harold, who does not love sincerely, yields. Ruth dis- 
 covers she loves Len, but thinks she has lost him also. Then 
 he comes back, and Ruth finds her happiness. Price 25 cents. 
 
 THE OLD NEW^ HAMPSHIRE HOME. A New 
 
 England Drama in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For seven 
 males and four females. Time, two hours and a half. Costumes, 
 modern. A play with a strong heart interest and pathos, yet rich 
 in humor. Easy to act and very effective. A rural drama of 
 the "Old Homstead" and "Way Down East" type. Two ex- 
 terior scenes, one interior, all easy to set. Full of strong sit- 
 uations and delightfully humorous passages. The kind of a play 
 everj'body understands and likes. Price, 25 cents. 
 
 THE OLD DAIRY HOMESTEAD. A Rural Comedy 
 in Three Acts, by Fr.\nk Dumont. For five males and four 
 fernales. Time, two hours. Rural costumes. Scenes rural ex- 
 terior and interior. An adventurer obtains a large sum of money 
 from a farm house through the intimidation of the farmer's 
 niece, whose husband he claims to be. Her escapes from the 
 wiles of the villain and his female accomplice are both starting 
 and novel. Price, 15 cents. 
 
 A WHITE MOUNTAIN BOY. A Strong Melodrama in 
 Five Acts, by Charles Townsend. For seven males and four 
 females, and three supers. Time, two hours and twenty minutes. 
 One exterior, three interiors. Costumes easy. The hero, a 
 country lad, twice saves the life of a banker's daughter, which 
 results in their betrothal. A scoundrelly clerk has the banker 
 in his power, but the White Mountain boy finds a way to check- 
 mate his schemes, saves the banker, and wins the girl. Price 
 15 cents. 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
An Innocent Desperado 
 
 A Comedy in Three Acts 
 
 By 
 VANCE C. CRISS 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 191 8 
 
/4' 
 
 Copyright 191 8 by The Penn Publishing Company 
 
 ^Pj? i 7 1918 
 ©aO 49356 
 
 An Innocent Desperado 
 
An Innocent Desperado 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 Hal Winston 
 Henky Simpkins 
 ''Lying Jim" Dobbs 
 Bub - 
 
 Pekcival Fudgetop 
 The Sheuiff 
 Jekusha Simpkins - 
 Mrs. Glover - 
 
 Tilda - 
 Helen Glover - 
 
 a7i artist 
 
 - who heeds his ivife 
 ci real prevaricator 
 
 - a country bu7}ipki7i 
 " - - a near hero 
 
 - an officer in doubt 
 ' Henry's ivife and boss 
 
 - Helen's juother^ who would be 
 
 PercivaTs mother-in-law 
 
 a country maid, 7vho longs for love 
 
 who seeks romance — and finds it 
 
 Time of Playing. — Two hours. 
 
 STORY OF THE PLAY 
 
 Helen Glover is a young lady who *' just loves ad- 
 venture," and hopes she will run across a "moon- 
 shiner" and a real mountain feud. Jim Dobbs per- 
 suades Percival Fudgetop and Helen that Hal Winston, 
 an artist, is a desperate criminal. Percival, to impress 
 Keen, captures the "criminal." Then romantic 
 Helen wishes to assist Winston to escape the sheriff 
 but he declines. The sheriff says he has no reason to 
 capture Winston. But Hal has already captured 
 Helen s heart, and Helen's love of romance is satisfied 
 
COSTUMES 
 
 Winston. About twenty-eight. May wear khaki 
 suit with puttees, or white trousers and blue coat. 
 
 SiMPKiNS. About fifty. A " hickory " or flannel 
 shirt, and with overalls tucked into boot tops. 
 
 DoBBS. About fifty. Broad-brimmed slouch hat, 
 flannel shirt open at the throat, frayed trousers and old 
 shoes or boots. 
 
 Bub. About eighteen. Checkered jumper and 
 large size overalls. 
 
 FuDGETOP. About twenty-five. Act I, fashionable 
 summer suit with hat to match. Acts II and III, cap, 
 light silk shirt and light trousers. 
 
 Sheriff. About forty-five. Slouch hat. Prince 
 Albert coat, trousers tucked in his boot tops, and with 
 revolver in holster at his belt. 
 
 Jerusiia. About fifty. House dress, neat but 
 plain, and gingham apron. 
 
 TiLDY. About seventeen. Gingham apron dress. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. About forty-five. Act I, traveling 
 dress. Act II, lounging dress. Act III, morning 
 dress. 
 
 Helen. About nineteen. Act I, traveling dress. 
 Act II, light summer dress. Act HI, similar to dress 
 in Act 11. 
 
 PROPERTIES 
 
 Act I. Telephone and bell. Several grips, um- 
 brella and other things carried by travelers. Monocle 
 (eye-glass). 
 
 Act II. A barrel and tw^o boxes. Box of domi- 
 noes. Small book. Bucket of water and glass. Re- 
 volver and shotgun. 
 
 Act III. Blankets. Chair. Water bucket and 
 dipper. Pipe, tobacco, matches. Auto horn, to be 
 heard off stage. Portfolio, containing letters and large 
 sheets supposed to be an artist's sketches. 
 
 4 
 
SCENE PLOTS 
 Act I 
 
 • Scene. — Parlor of the Simpkins boarding house. 
 It is a very plainly furnished country room, with doors 
 R. and L. A settee down l., and a rocker down R. ; 
 another chair down l. Table with a chair each side 
 of it, up c. Another small table, up r., holds a tele- 
 phone. Other furnishings to suit, such as old-fash- 
 ioned pictures, mottoes and calendars on walls, book- 
 case, etc. 
 
SCENE PLOTS 
 
 Acts II and III 
 
 Scene. — Henry Simpkins' store. Counter, with 
 shelves, show-cases, etc., l. All the arrangements very 
 crude and simple. Door r. Windows at back if de- 
 sired, but these are not necessary. Up l. bench with 
 bucket of water and dipper. Down l. c. a barrel with 
 closed head, used as a table. A box on either side of 
 it, used as seat. Chair down R. Barrels, boxes, 
 goods, etc., at r. and up c. 
 
An Innocent Desperado 
 
 ACT I 
 
 SCENE. — Parlor in the Simpkins house. Settee down 
 L. ; rocking-chair down r. ; table with chairs on either 
 side of it, up c. Another small table with telephone, 
 up R. Pictures, old-fashioned wall mottoes and 
 flowers may be used to give color to the room. 
 
 {Curtain rising discloses Tildy seated in a rocker 
 down R., rocking and humming. Door r. opens and 
 Bub enters. He slips behind Tildy and covers her 
 eyes with his hands.) 
 
 Bub. Guess who. 
 
 Tildy {still rocking). Laws-a-me, Mr. Winston, I 
 knowed who y'u was th' minute them soft hands o* 
 yourn come across my cheeks. 
 
 Bub {removing his hands and stepping to her side, 
 R.). I ain't that Winston feller, an' my hands ain't 
 soft. Y'u knowed I wasn't that artist feller, an' y're 
 jus' tryin' to make fun o' me. That's th' way with a 
 woman. {Goes l.) It don't make no difference how 
 nice y'u are to 'em, they're always bein' cruel to y'u. 
 Y'u know that feller don't care nothin' fer y'u. It 
 ain't right fer y'u to be a-carin' fer him, an' him not 
 a-carin' fer y'u, when I'm a-carin' fer y'u like I am. 
 
 Tildy {haughtily) . Why don't y'u quit a-pesterin' 
 me with yer silly talk. Go talk to Winnie Jimpson. 
 I ain't never said I cared fer Mr. Winston, have I? 
 
 Bub. No, y'u ain't never said it, but 
 
 Tildy. Mebbe I don't want him. You don't know. 
 But y'u can be plumb shore o' one thing — I don't care 
 
8 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 th' snap o' my finger fer you. Winnie Jimpson can 
 have you. 
 
 Bub (crossing l. and dropping on his knees to her). 
 You know I don't want her. Tildy, I jus' can't stand 
 you a-trampin' on my heart hke y're a-doin'. If y'u 
 don't quit fooUn' 
 
 (Telephone bell gives three short rings.) 
 
 Tildy. There. Them three rings is fer old man 
 Jimpson's place. I bet Bill Wilson is a-callin' your 
 stuck-up Winnie Jimpson. 
 
 Bub (rising). She ain't mine, an' you know it. 
 I'm a-goin' to see if it is Bill. I'd like to hear what a 
 feller says when he's in love, 'cause I'm plumb anxious 
 to say somethin' to y'u that'll make y'u care fer me. 
 
 Tildy. Well, don't be a-standin' there then. If 
 y're a-wantin' to listen, y'u can't hear where y're 
 a-standin' now. 
 
 (Bub goes to telephone, takes receiver from hook and 
 stands listening, looking at Tildy.) 
 
 Bub. Haw, haw, haw ! He called her his little 
 sugar bowl, an' she purty near got mad 'cause she 
 didn't understand. Then he told her he jus' called her 
 that 'cause she was s' sweet. Golly, I wisht I c'd talk 
 like that. 
 
 Tildy. They ain't no use in y'u a-wishin'. Y'u 
 couldn't call nobody nothin' they'd like. You never 
 said a nice thing to me yet. 
 
 Bub. Now he's a-tellin' her (Turns ex- 
 citedly to telephone.) What's that? I ain't neither 
 listenin' in. I come here to talk, but it ain't no use 
 fer anybody else to try to use this here tellyfone, as 
 long's y're too lazy to go over to old man Jimpson's 
 place to do yer courtin'. (Hangs up receiver.) 
 
 Tildy. That's what y'u git fer pokin' yer nose int' 
 other folkses' business. I told y'u y'u couldn't be no 
 gentleman. Mr. Winston wouldn't do nothin' like 
 th^t, an' I wouldn't neither, 'cause I'm a-goin t' be a 
 lady. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 9 
 
 (Bub, crestfallen, exit, r. Tildy zvatches until he is 
 gone, slips over to door l. to see if any one is com- 
 ing, then goes to 'phone and places receiver at her 
 ear. She has stood there a fezv seconds, with sup- 
 pressed giggling, when Bub enters r., behind her.) 
 
 Bub. Boo. 
 
 Tildy. Oh ! (Hangs up receiver, and, embar- 
 rassed, turns. Sees Bub and is angry at once.) 
 That's a purty way to do when I'm a-tryin' to telly- 
 fone to somebody. I knowed y'u warn't no gentle- 
 man. 
 
 Bub. Haw, haw, haw! Y'u can't fool me. Y're 
 a lady, all right, ain't y'u? Y'u was listenin' to what 
 Bill was a-sayin' to Winnie. 
 
 Tildy {going c). I wasn't, neither. I was a-try- 
 in' to talk to 
 
 Bub. No, y'u wasn't. I seen y'u sneak to th' telly- 
 fone. I seen y'u. I'm a-goin' to tell 
 
 {Enter Jerusha Simpkins, l. Advances c. to Tildy 
 and Bub. Jerusha l., Tildy c. and Bub r.) 
 
 Jerusha. Looky here, you two. I'm a-goin' to 
 say somethin' an' I want y'u to listen. Them city 
 boarders is a-comin' to-day, an' I'm a-goin' to tell y'u 
 what to do fer 'em. Bub, I want y'u to meet 'em out 
 there at th' gate an' fetch in their grips. Remember 
 y'u ain't to ask a lot o' fool questions, an' y'u ain't to 
 set yerself up to be a-doin' all th' talkin'. Jus' do 
 whatever they tell y'u an' keep yer mouth shut. That 
 there last's th' most important thing o' all. An', Tildy, 
 I'm a-goln' to spare y'u out o' th' kitchen a little now 
 an' then to help with th' dressin'. An' y'u want to 
 keep yer mouth shut, jus' like I w^as a-tellin' Bub. Do 
 what they tell y'u, an' don't ask no fool questions. 
 Them wimmen ain't used to bein' talked to by servants, 
 an' I ain't a-goin' to have th' repitation o' my place 
 spiled. Now remember, both o' y'u, do whatever is 
 told y'u, an' keep yer mouths shut. {Comes down l. ) 
 
 Bub. How many is a-comiu'? {Conies down r.) 
 
10 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Jerusiia. They's three; Mis' Glover, an' her 
 daughter an' a friend. 
 
 Bub. Is this here friend a male er a female friend? 
 
 Jerusha. I don't know, an' it ain't none o' yer 
 business noways. 
 
 Bub. I don't care which it is, s' long's he leaves 
 Tildy alone. 
 
 TiLDY (coming down c). I'd like to know who 
 asked y'u to be a-lookin' after me. It ain't none o' 
 yer business if they's one man er if they's two dozen. 
 
 Jerusha. What's th' matter with you two, a-fussin' 
 like this ? What's ailin' y'u both ? 
 
 Bub. I ain't a-goin' to have Tildy 
 
 Jerusha. What right have y'u got, a-pesterin' 
 Tildy like this? 
 
 Bub. I ain't a-goin' to have any more fellers 
 a-runnin' after Tildy. That there artist feller's 'nough. 
 
 Tildy. You shut up, Bub. 
 
 Jerusha. What d' y'u mean 'bout that artist feller 
 an' Tildy ? Speak right up now, an' tell th' truth. 
 
 Tildy. Shut up, I tell y'u. 
 
 Bub. That there artist feller's a-runnin' after 
 Tildy, an' I ain't a-goin' to have it. I seen him kiss 
 her in th' pasture t'other day. 
 
 Tildy. Y'u ain't never saw him kiss me in th' 
 pasture, ner no place else. 
 
 Jerusha. I reckon if he's kissed y'u at all he's 
 kissed y'u on th' mouth. That's where most kissin's 
 done. But I want to know, Tildy Hostetter, if what 
 this here boy says is true. Ansvv^er me right up, with- 
 out a bit o' foolin'. 
 
 Tildy. I don't see as it's 
 
 Jerusha. Don't give me none o' yer lip. Yer 
 mother put y'u in my charge, to bring y'u up a respect- 
 able gal, an' a member in th' church, an' I'm a-goin' to 
 do it. I ain't a-goin' to bury my talent. I'm a-goin' 
 to be faithful to my trust. 
 
 Tildy. I don't care. I don't see as it's anybody's 
 business if he did kiss me. 
 
 Jerusha. No, I reckon y'u don't care ; I reckon it 
 don't make no difference if y'u turn out to be respect- 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO II 
 
 able like, or a child o' th' devil. If y'u ain't got sense 
 'nough to leave them artist fellers alone, somebody's 
 got to do it fer y'u. 
 
 Bub. I bet he ain't no artist, noway. He's jus' 
 one o' them city doods out here a-havin' a good time 
 an' a-makin' fun o' me. He don't look like no artist 
 to me. 
 
 Jerusiia. I reckon you know a lot 'bout how them 
 artist fellers look! 
 
 TiLDY. He is too a artist, an' he thinks I'm pretty. 
 He's a-paintin' my picter. 
 
 Jerusha. Paintin' yer picter! That's worse still. 
 If y'u wasn't s' ignorant, y'd have more sense. Don't 
 y'u know them artists paints wimmen without much 
 clothes on, an' carries on scandalous like ? First thing 
 y'u know, y'll be goin' 'round here with a lace curtain 
 on, a-thinkin' y're one o' them heathen queens an' 
 a-bringin' disgrace on th' whole pack an' passel o' us. 
 
 TiLDY. I don't care what folks says. Mr. Winston 
 ain't been anything but a gentleman with me. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, all I got to say is that I ain't got 
 time fer no more foolin' now. Y'u two git int' th* 
 kitchen an' git cleaned up. Them city folks'll be 
 a-comin' most any minute now, an' I ain't a-goin' to 
 have you two a-lookin' like y'd never even saw a wash 
 pan. Now git, both o' y'u. (Bub and Tildy, the 
 latter disdainful, exeunt, l., as Henry Simpkins en- 
 ters r.) Looky here, Henry Simpkins, what d' y'u 
 mean, a-draggin' in this way when y'u know them city 
 boarders is a-comin' to-day ? Ain't I told y'u ever' 
 year since we been a-takin' in boarders that th' thing 
 fer y'u is to fix up an' look like y'u was a respectable 
 farm owner and storekeeper, 'stead o' a hog feedin' 
 hired hand? 
 
 Henry {coming down r.). Now, Jerushy, y'u 
 know I been busy all mornin', an' I ain't had no time 
 to fix up. I'm a-goin' right now to put on 
 
 Jerusha. Yes, I know y're a-goin' right now to 
 put on th' worst old duds y'u can find. Th* thing fer 
 y'u to do is to git in there an* put on that alpacky suit, 
 th' one y'u bought five years ago circus day in th* 
 
12 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 city. It's plumb hard 'nougli to make anything out o* 
 yerself anyways, but y'u got to look as near respect- 
 able as y'u can. 
 
 Henry. I can't see no sense in my tryin' to fix up, 
 like some young dood. I ain't a-courtin' no more, an' 
 anyways, them folks that's a-comin' is a-payin' their 
 board. I ain't supposed to be no entertainment feller 
 nohow. I 'low if I put on a collar an' wear shoes 
 'stead o' boots I'm a-doin' 'bout all that ort to be ex- 
 pected o' me. (Sits in rocker down r.) 
 
 Jerusha. Git up out o' that chair. (Henry rises 
 suddenly.) Well, it ain't all that ort to be expected o' 
 y'u, an' I'm th' one that's a-doin' th' expectin'. It 
 ain't enough fer y'u to put on a collar an' keep from 
 a-tuckin' yer pants in them boot tops. Y'u got to 
 watch yer manners a little bit. Them city folks don't 
 like a feller a-settin' at th' table an' a-shovelin' peas in 
 his mouth with a knife, an' they don't care perticler 
 'bout havin' a feller tryin' to whistle a toon when he's 
 eatin' soup. Y'u want to watch yer manners. I ain't 
 a-wantin' no more boarders run off in th' middle o' th' 
 summer, jus' 'cause y'u can't act decent like at th' 
 table. 
 
 Henry. All right, Jerushy, all right. I'll do th' 
 best I can. I been a-tryin' fer a good many years to 
 do like y'u wanted me to, but I ain't seemed to have 
 much luck. I 'low I'm a-gittin' too old to do much in 
 th' way o' fine manners. An' my manners was good 
 'nough fer y'u when we didn't have nothin' but one 
 old broken down span o' mules an' ten acres in corn 
 that my old man give us. 
 
 Jerusha. That's jus' th' trouble. Y'u know y'u 
 never had no chanct to learn when y'u was young, an' 
 y'u ain't been willin' to try gittin' any better, now that 
 y're able to take things a little easier. Y're jus' like 
 a chunk o' sandstone — y'u won't take no polish no 
 matter how hard y're rubbed. (Henry sits in chair 
 dozvn R.) Now don't go a-settin' down there, an' then 
 come^a-draggin' in with them old clothes on when th' 
 comp'ny conies. (Henry rises.) 
 
 Henry. All right, Jerushy, I reckon y'u know best. 
 
AN INNOCENT. DESPERADO 
 
 J3 
 
 {Exit Jerusha, l.) By Jiminy, I jus' can't see no 
 use in Jerushy insistin' on me a-lixin' up. It ain't in 
 me. {Sits R.) 
 
 {Enter Jim Dobbs, r. ; looks about; sees Henry.) 
 
 Jim. Howdy, Henry. {Comes down c.) I was 
 jus' a-passin' by, an' 'lowed I'd drop in t' pass th' time 
 o' day. How's ever'body? 
 
 Henry. Oh, all right, I guess, 'ceptin' me. {Points 
 to chair doivn l.) Set down over there. (Jim takes 
 seat.) I reckon I can talk a minute. Jerushy's got 
 some more o' them city boarders a-comin', an' she 
 won't hear to nothin' but fer me to put on my Sunday 
 duds an' wear 'em all th' time th' comp'ny's here. 
 
 Jim. By crickey, Henry, I wouldn't let no wife o' 
 mine tell me what to wear, an' boss me 'round like 
 that. 
 
 Jerusha {outside, l.). Hen-ree. 
 
 Henry {rising). Well, that's right — but I reckon 
 I better be a-goin', Jim. 
 
 Jim. Oh, set down, Henry. Take it easy. Jus' 
 let her see y'u ain't a-goin' to eat outen her hand or 
 dance ever' time she whistles, an' she'll come 'round 
 arter while. Jus' take it easy, Henry, take it easy. 
 
 Henry {resuming seat). I reckon they ain't no 
 need o' bein' in a big hurry. 
 
 Jerusha {thrusting head in door i..). Henry Simp- 
 kins, ain't I told y'u once to git a move on an' git 
 ready fer that city comp'ny? {Sees Jim, who rises 
 and goes up c.) Oh, I see. {Enters and advances 
 to c.) Jim Dobbs, I bet y're at th' bottom o' this, 
 a-puttin' my husband up to them stubborn tricks agin. 
 I'd jus' like to have y'u fer a husband 'bout one day. 
 If I wouldn't jus' take some o' them hifalutin notions 
 out o' yer head! You an' yer wife'd both be a sight 
 better off if y'u had sense 'nough to 'tend to yer own 
 business, so's y'u c'd make a livin', 'stead o' dependin' 
 on th' good will an' th' charity o' th' neighbors. I jus' 
 vvisht I was yer wife. 
 
 Jim {who has edged to door r. as Jerusha talks). 
 
14 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 I'm shore thankful y'u ain't. I'd a durn sight rather 
 spend all night in a graveyard with a ghost than to 
 spend five minutes with you. 
 
 {Exity R.) 
 
 Jerusha. Henry Simpkins, I ain't a-goin' t' wait 
 much longer on y'u. {Goes to door l.) Don't y'u 
 fergit. 
 
 {Exit, L.) 
 
 Henry. In a minute, Jerushy, in a minute. 
 
 {Sits R.) 
 
 {Enter Hal Winston, r.) 
 
 Winston. Hello, Mr. Simpkins. (Henry rises.) 
 Keep your seat. I just dropped in for a moment. 
 I'm just out for a little afternoon stroll. (Henry sits. ) 
 
 Henry {points to chair down l., and Winston 
 takes it). Set down over there, Mr. Winston. I 
 reckon y're a-findin' it hot 'nough these here 
 
 Jerusha {thrusting head in door l.). Henry 
 Simpkins, what d' y'u mean (Henry rises) a-settin' in 
 here a-taikin' to a no-account scalawag, Vvhen I been 
 a-tellin' y'u fer an hour that it's time to git ready 
 fer them city boarders? I thought that there no- 
 account loafer left once. Tell him to git on an' quit 
 foolin' 'round here where he ain't wanted. (Henry 
 tries to signal her, and she sees Winston, who, 
 puzzled, has risen.) Laws-a-me, Mr. Winston, how- 
 ever can I apologize 'nough ! (Jerusha enters and 
 conies dozvn c.) I shore made a plumb fool out o' 
 myself. I been a-tryin' to git Henry in to dress fer 
 comp'ny, an' th' las' time I called him he was a-talkin' 
 to that worthless Lyin' Jim Dobbs. I never knowed 
 y'u was here, or I shore wouldn't 'a' said what I did. 
 If I'd 'a' knowed Henry was a-entertainin' y'u, I shore 
 would 'a' been as quiet's a mouse. 
 
 Winston. Oh, that's all right, Mrs. Simpkins. 
 You haven't hurt my feelings. And I assure you I 
 won't detain Mr. Simpkins. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO I5 
 
 Jerusha. Well, I'm mighty glad y'u take it that 
 way, but I shore do feel all put out 'bout it. Y'u see, 
 we got some city boarders a-comin' purty soon, an' I 
 always like to see Henry fix up a little more'n ordinary. 
 It's powerful hard to git him to do it, but I shore 
 wouldn't 'a' come talkin' th' way I did if I'd 'a' 
 knowed y'u was here. 
 
 Winston. May I ask who the boarders are ? 
 
 Jerusha. Shore. They's a Mis' Glover an' her 
 daughter an' a friend, but I don't know whether th' 
 friend is a male* or a female, an' they're from St. 
 Louis. All I know is they're a-takin' all three rooms, 
 an' a-payin' high so's I won't take no others while 
 they're here, so I reckon they're well fixed. 
 
 Winston. I have several friends in St. Louis, but 
 no one by the name you mention. And, by the way, I 
 have one request to make, Mrs. Simpkins, that I'm 
 going to ask all you folks to observe. I would greatly 
 prefer not to be introduced to the guests, should I 
 have that pleasure, as an artist. You may tell them 
 I am a banker or something in Chicago and am here 
 for my health. That may be stretching the truth just 
 a little, but I'm sure it won't do any harm. 
 
 Jerusha. Land sakes, Mr. Winston, Fli do it if 
 y'u want me to, an' I'll speak to Tildy an' Bub. But 
 I'd a lot rather tell 'em y'u was a artist. It adds a lot 
 to th' repitashun o' th' place jus' to have a artist 
 a-stickin' 'round. 
 
 Winston. But you'll do as I ask, won't you, Mrs. 
 Simpkins ? 
 
 Jerusha. Land sakes, yes. I never turned nobody 
 down on nothin' like that. 
 
 {Enter Tildy, l.) 
 
 Tildy. Mis' Simpkins, them potatoes is (5"^^^- 
 
 Winston.) Laws a mercy, Mr. Winston, I never 
 knowed y'u was here. {Goes down l. to Winston.) 
 But I got to go back. {Tunis as if to go.) 
 
 Winston. Well, now that I am here, and you are 
 here, you needn't rush right off, unless those potatoes 
 are burning. 
 
l6 AN INNOCl-NT DESPERADO 
 
 TiLDY. Oh, tney ain't a-burnin'. They ain't even 
 peeled yet. An' say, Mr. Winston, how's that picter 
 comin' on ? Ain't it 'bout finished ? 
 
 Winston. Not quite, Tildy, but I'm making some 
 progress. I hope to have it ready for inspection in a 
 few days. I'm quite sure Mr. and Mrs. Simpkins will 
 be glad to see it. I haven't told you before, but I'm 
 counting on entering it in the exhibit in Chicago this 
 fall. 
 
 Tildy. I jus* can't hardly wait., 
 
 Jerusha. Mr. Winston, is that there picter — is 
 
 Tildy fixed up — I mean, is Tildy '- Well, I've hearn 
 
 a lot 'bout what kind o' picters artists paint, an' what I 
 mean is, is Tildy a-wearin' 'nough clothes so's a re- 
 spectable like church member c'd look at th' picter 
 without a-blushin' ? Tildy's in my care, an' I ain't 
 a-wantin' to have her an' me scandalized. 
 
 Winston (laughingly). Yes, indeed, Mrs. Simp- 
 kins. You needn't feel at all worried on that score. 
 In the picture Tildy is wearing her usual dress. She 
 is kneeling beside the spring, looking at her reflection 
 in the water. I think you'll like it. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, I'm powerful relieved. I don't 
 want Tildy a-gettin' int' no bad habits. 
 
 Winston. I must be going now. You folks want 
 to get ready for your guests. Don't forget, Mrs. 
 Simpkins. Don't tell them I'm a painter. They 
 would probably bother me to death if they knew it. 
 
 Tildy. Land sakes, Mr. Winston, can't I tell 'em 
 y're a artist? 
 
 Winston. No, Tildy, I prefer to be known merely 
 as a business man who is here for his health. (Tildy 
 is disappointed.) But you needn't worry. We'll go 
 on with the picture, if you have time. (Tildy 
 brightens.) But I must be going now. (Goes R.) 
 Perhaps I'll drop around in a day or two. Good-day. 
 
 (Exit, R.) 
 
 Jerusha (following him to door). I'm mighty 
 sorry 'bout sayin' what I did, Mr. Winston. (Turns 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO I7 
 
 to TiLDY.) Now looky here, Tildy, I ain't altogether 
 satisfied 'bout that picter paintin' business, even if Mr. 
 Winston is a-paintin' y'u jus' like y'u are. Them 
 artist fellers is smooth, an' I'm a-goin' t' be on th' 
 lookout fer y'u. I ain't a-puttin' one bit o' trust in any 
 artist feller. 
 
 Tildy. Law me, Mis' Simpkins, he's a perfect 
 gentleman. He couldn't be no bit nicer'n he has been. 
 
 Jerusiia. Y'u let him kiss y'u. 
 
 Tildy. Well, he was nice 'nough to ask me, an' I 
 jus' couldn't refuse. 
 
 Jerusiia. Anyways, I ain't a-goin' to have no more 
 foolishness like that. Let him paint yer picter if he 
 wants to, but paintin' an' kissin's two different things. 
 
 Voice (outside, r.). V/hoa! Anybody t' home ? 
 
 Jerusiia. There's them city folks now, an' that 
 good- fer- nothin' Bub ain't here where I told him to be. 
 Henry Simpkins, git out there this minute an' bring in 
 their grips. Step lively now. (Exit Henry, r.) 
 Tildy, git int' th' kitchen an' be a-gittin' supper. Y'u 
 stood in here a-talkin' to that artist feller, an' like's 
 not they won't be a thing on th' stove fit to eat. (Exit 
 Tildy, l.) An' I clear f ergot to dust in here. What 
 am I a-comin' to, anyway? 
 
 (Busies herself with her apron, dusting.) 
 
 (Door opens r. and Mrs. Glover, follorved by Helen 
 mid Percival Fudgetop, enter, followed by Henry, 
 bearing grips. Mrs. Glover, Helen and Fudgetop 
 advance to c.) 
 
 Henry (at door). Here they be, an' I never did 
 git my duds changed. 
 
 Jerusha. Mr. Simpkins, this ain't th' place to be 
 discussin' things like that. (Advances to Mrs. 
 Glover.) Mis' Glover, I'm mighty glad to meet y'u. 
 I reckon that's who y'u are. (Mrs. Glover languidly 
 shakes hands.) An' this here must be Miss Glover. 
 (Shakes hands with Helen.) An' this here is 
 
 (Goes to Fudgetop, who surveys her haughtily.) 
 
l8 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Helen. Oli, that's only Mr. Fudgetop, Fudgy for 
 short. 
 
 Jerusha {shaking hands). Vm pleased to meet 
 y'u, Mr. Pudgy top. 
 
 Fudgetop. Fudgetop, my good woman, Fudgetop. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, it ain't much worse. 
 
 Helen. Oh, no, it couldn't be. 
 
 Mrs. Glover {sitting, down r.). Helen, how many 
 times have I cautioned you to be more respectful? 
 Please accord Mr. Fudgetop the treatment he de- 
 serves. 
 
 Helen. I wish I could. 
 
 Mrs. Glover {to Helen). Helen, that will do. 
 
 {Enter Bub, l.) 
 
 Bub. Gosh amighty, they've all come, ain't they? 
 {Catches sight of Fudgetop.) Haw, haw, haw! 
 What's that? 
 
 Jerusha {to Bub, pointing up l.). Git in that 
 corner an' stay there till I tell y'u to git out. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. I presume the accommodations here 
 are all strictly modern. 
 
 Henry (c). Yes'm, they're as nigh modern as 
 kin be got this fur from a railroad. We got 
 
 Jerusha (l. c). Henry Simpkins, I'll do th' talkin' 
 fer this family. I think y'll find ever'thing jus' like I 
 writ in my letter. An' I hope y'll be satisfied. We 
 been bothered s' much to-day with callers that we 
 ain't hardly had time to git things straightened out. 
 
 Henry. Yes, I 'lowed to change my 
 
 Jerusha. Henry Simpkins, drop them grips an' 
 git out. 
 
 (Henry drops grips and exit, r.) 
 
 Bub. Haw% haw, haw ! 
 
 Jerusha {turning on him). Git them grips an' 
 take 'em up-stairs this minute. Take them belongin' 
 to th' wimmen folks int' th' big front room. We kin 
 move Miss Flelen's later. An' take Mr. Fuzzytop's 
 int' th' room on th' east side. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO I9 
 
 FuDGETOP. Fudgetop, my good woman, Fudgetop. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, ril git that name right after a 
 while. Y'u can't expect a busy woman to git onto a 
 name like that short o' three or four tries. Step along 
 there, Bub. 
 
 Bub. I'm a-goin' right now. 
 
 (Bub laboriously takes up all the grips and exit, l.) 
 
 Mrs. Glover. I am quite anxious to find out one 
 thing, Mrs. Simpkins. And really it was with only 
 one thought in view that I consented to come to a place 
 like this. While I have arranged with you that there 
 shall be no other guests in the house, I don't care to 
 remain in a community where one finds the usual 
 summer guests, especially men. Are there any men 
 about here — that is, men who are here spending their 
 vacations ? 
 
 Jerusha, Well, y'u know, as I writ in my last 
 letter, they ain't any men a-stayin' here. They is one 
 city feller in th' community, howsoever, a young feller 
 that lives in a cabin by hisself down th' road a piece. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Indeed! Is he single? 
 
 Jerusha. Good land, I hope so. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Does he appear to be at all — w^ell — 
 impressionable ? 
 
 Jerusha. Well, now, I jus' can't say as to that, 
 but he ain't no slouch when it comes to looks. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Do you know anything about him or 
 his antecedents? 
 
 Jerusha. Why, he's from Chicawgo. He's a ar — a 
 business man here for his health. But I'll own right 
 now he don't look as if his health was a-givin' him any 
 great concern. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. I trust he will not cause us any 
 annoyance. Mr. Fudgetop was very considerate in 
 agreeing to come to assist in entertaining my daughter, 
 and I don't care to have her making chance acquaint- 
 ances, particularly those so easily formed at summer 
 resorts. 
 
 Helen. Oh, Mrs. Simpkins, I'm dreadfully anxious 
 
20 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 to know if there are any moonshiners here. This is 
 such a romantic spot, and Fve read so much about the 
 Ozark Mountains that I'm just sure there must be a 
 moonshine place here somewhere. 
 
 Jerusha. Land no, Miss Helen, we ain't had none 
 o' them fer years. It ain't that some o' th' men-folks 
 don't like likker's much as they used to, but they can 
 ship it in from Springfield s' much cheaper'n they can 
 make it, an' th' risk ain't s' great. 
 
 (EuB enters l. and stands just inside door.) 
 
 Helen. How disappointingly prosaic! I had 
 counted on seeing a real moonshiner and a real place 
 where the moonshine whiskey is made. 
 
 Jerusha. Land sakes, Miss Helen, if they was a 
 moonshine still 'round here anywheres, d' y'u think th' 
 men that run it'd let anybody like you come 'round? 
 Not much they wouldn't. 
 
 Helen. Well, if there aren't any moonshiners, 
 there surely must be a feud in the vicinity. We saw 
 some real mountaineers as we drove over, and I'm 
 sure I shouldn't have been surprised if one of them had 
 offered to shoot us. Do tell me there is a feud near 
 here. 
 
 Jerusha. A feud ! I don't believe I ever seen one 
 o' them, but y'u might be able to git one over to th* 
 county seat. 
 
 Helen. Oh, you don't understand. A feud is a 
 bitter feeling between two families, so bitter that the 
 members of one family try to kill the members of the 
 other. It's real romantic to think of meeting persons 
 who are wanting to kill each other. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, I'd think a good deal depended 
 on where y'u met 'em. But if a feud is hatin' one 
 another, y'u ain't likely to find it here. Most o' th' 
 land's too pore even to raise a fuss on. 
 
 Bub (approaching LIelen). Y'u say one o' them 
 feuds is where y'u hate a feller? 
 
 Helen. Yes, that's a feud. 
 
 Bub. Well, they's one here, then. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 21 
 
 Helen. Oh, how deUghtful! Do tell me about it. 
 
 Jerusha. Miss Helen, that boy ain't got no sense. 
 He don't even know what he's talkin' 'bout. 
 
 Bub. I reckon I know when I hate a feller. I'm 
 goin' to knock his head off. 
 
 {Makes pugilistic motions.) 
 
 Helen. How very interesting! Tell me about it. 
 
 Bub. They ain't much to tell. I want Tildy, an' 
 he's a-tryin' to take her. We got a feud on, all right, 
 only I never knowed what to call it afore. 
 
 Jerusha. Looky here, Bub, that's 'nough out o' 
 you. Git out this instant. {Exit Bub, l.) It won't 
 do fer y'u to pay much 'tention to Bub, Miss Helen. 
 He don't mean it. 
 
 {Reenter Bub, l.) 
 
 Bub {excited). I heard y'u. I heard y'u. Don't 
 mean it, hey? I'm a-goin' to knock him into the 
 middle of next week, I tell y'u. 
 
 {He dances around Fudgetop, making wild passes that 
 FuDGETOP dodges timidly.) 
 
 Jerusha {to Bub). Looky here. Bub, I ain't 
 a-goin' to stand fer no more o' yer foolishness. Take 
 Mr. Fudgepot up to his room. 
 
 Fudgetop {adjusting monocle). Fudgetop, my 
 good woman, Fudgetop ! 
 
 Jerusha. Well, I said it'd take me some time to 
 git it. Jus' give me time. Hurry on there. Bub. 
 
 Bub {surveying Fudgetop). Gee, his glasses is 
 broke, an' one o' 'em is stuck in his eye. 
 
 (Bub leads the angry Fudgetop out door l.) 
 
 ^ Jerusha. Now, if you folks'll foller me, I'll show 
 y'u to yer rooms. (Tildy enters l.) Tildy, be 
 a-dustin' here. 
 
 {Exit Jerusha, l., follozved by Mrs. Glover and 
 Helen. Winston enters r. Tildy is busily dusting 
 down l.) 
 
22 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Winston. Well, Tildy, are the guests here, or are 
 you getting ready for them? (Comes down r.) 
 
 Tildy. Land, Mr. Winston, y'u almost scared th' 
 life out o' me. (Crosses to him.) 
 
 Winston. Surely not. You seem to be in very 
 good health. 
 
 Tildy. But I ain't. An' you wouldn't be if y'd 
 'a' heered what that foolish Bub told Mis' Simpkins. 
 It plumb upset me. 
 
 Winston. Indeed! What could Bub have said 
 that would vvorry you so much? 
 
 Tildy. He told Mis' Simpkins 'bout — 'bout — well, 
 he said he seen y'u — seen y'u — well, y'u ort to know 
 what he said he seen. 
 
 Winston. How on earth could I know? 
 
 Tildy. He said he seen y'u kiss me. 
 
 Winston (smiling). He did? 
 
 Tildy. Yes, he did. An' it made him plumb mad, 
 a-seein' you — us, I mean — when it ain't no more his 
 business than 'tis a chicken's. 
 
 Winston. I'll have to have a word with Bub. If 
 he has seen anything, he should be enough of a gen- 
 tleman to know that it isn't polite to tell. 
 
 Tildy. Yes, an' he told Mis' Simpkins, an' it made 
 her mad as time. She give me fits. 
 
 Winston. She seems to be good at that. 
 
 Tildy. Yes, an' he said 
 
 (Enter Bub, l.) 
 
 Winston. Ah, there you are, you young reprobate. 
 Come here. (Bub advances to l. of Tildy.) So 
 you've been telling tales out of school, have you? 
 Now, look here. You're making a lot out of nothing. 
 If you go around saying there's anything between 
 Tildy and me I'll turn you over my knee and administer 
 a little of mother's celebrated antidote. Do you see 
 the point? 
 
 Bub. I don't care. I got a feud on with y'u. 
 
 Winston. A feud? Do you know what a feud is? 
 
 Bub. Sure I do. A feud's where y'u hate a feller. 
 
 Winston. So you have a feud on with me. Well, 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 23 
 
 there's only one thing left for us to do. That's to 
 have a duel. 
 
 Bub. What's that? 
 
 Winston. And you don't know what a duel is? 
 I'll tell you. It's the natural result of a feud. Two 
 men who hate each other — sometimes they don't even 
 do that — decide to fight it out. {He pretends fierce 
 anger. Bub looks scared.) Sometimes they use 
 swords and sometimes they use pistols. Which do 
 you prefer? 
 
 Bub. I don't prefer neither one. I jus' got a feud 
 on, not a duel. 
 
 Winston. Then I fear I shall have to brand you 
 as a coward. (Bub looks scared.) 
 
 {Enter Jerusha, l., followed by Mrs. Glover and 
 Helen. Bub and Tildy cross to l.) 
 
 Jerusha. Well I declare, if here ain't Mr. Win- 
 ston. Mis' Glover, I want t' interdooce a real ar 
 
 Winston (down l.). Ahem! 
 
 Jerusha (down l. c). A real broken down busi- 
 ness man to y'u, who's come here fer his health. This 
 here's Mr. Winston, Mis' Glover an' Miss Helen. Bub, 
 Tildy, ain't you got nothin' better to do than stand 
 there starin'? 
 
 (Bub and Tildy exeunt l., followed by Jerusha.) 
 
 Winston (to ladies). Indeed, I am quite delighted 
 to meet you. Mrs. Simpkins told me some time ago 
 she was expecting you. I trust you will enjoy your 
 stay in the Ozarks, and if I may be of any assistance, 
 I hope you will feel free to call upon me. 
 
 Helen (c). There's only one way you can assist 
 me in having a good time, Mr. Winston. That is to 
 point out a real moonshiner or a real feudist. 
 
 Winston. I am afraid. Miss Glover, that you will 
 find I arn of very little service in such a venture. I 
 don't believe I would make a very good detective. 
 
 Helen. Surely you don't mean that in such a 
 romantic place as this there are no moonshiners and 
 no feudists? 
 
24 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Winston. I am afraid not. Of course, the next 
 man I meet may be a moonshiner, but he certainly will 
 fool me if he proves to be anything other than a very 
 peaceful citizen of the Ozarks. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Really, Mr. Winston, I fear you 
 will not be able to provide any entertainment for my 
 daughter. She has set her heart upon finding a ro- 
 mantic character, but I feel quite sure she is doomed 
 to disappointment, and her time here will be so taken 
 up with Mr. Fudgetop that she can hardly be expected 
 to think of these dreadful characters very long. 
 (Fudgetop enters l. and comes down l. c.) And 
 permit me to present the gentleman whom I just men- 
 tioned. Mr. Fudgetop, Mr. Winston. I believe that 
 is the name? 
 
 Winston. It is, Mrs. Glover. I am indeed glad to 
 meet you, Mr. Fudgetop. I have been trying to con- 
 vince Miss Glover that this is a very peaceful com- 
 munity, but she insists upon romance. 
 
 Fudgetop. Can it be possible? I hardly thought 
 Miss Glover would care for any romance, so long as I 
 am here. 
 
 Helen. But I want to figure in a real romance. 
 I want to meet a real man of the hills, who isn't 
 afraid of anything. 
 
 Fudgetop. Quite so, quite so. I am here. I must 
 admit that I have had somewhat more culture than 
 these fellows about here, but then I am not afraid of 
 anything. And that ought to be the real test. Really, 
 Miss Helen, I can't see any reason for your taking up 
 with any strangers (motioning to Winston) so long 
 as I am here. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Yes, indeed, my dear, I can't see 
 how you can have the slightest interest in any one 
 else, so long as Mr. Fudgetop is here. 
 
 Helen. Oh, pshaw ! There are lots of men in the 
 world beside Mr. Fudgetop. 
 
 (Mrs. Glover and Fudgetop annoyed.) 
 Winston (glancing at watch). I fear I must be go- 
 ing. Permit me again to say I am very glad to have 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 2$ 
 
 met all of you, and I trust I may assist in making your 
 stay here pleasant. Good-day, all. 
 
 (Eji'it, R.) 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Well, I'm glad he's gone. I must 
 caution you once more, daughter, not to strike up 
 acquaintances so quickly with persons of whom you 
 know nothing. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Yes, it's quite common, don't you know, 
 to be so willing to converse with strangers. 
 
 Helen. Well, it may be a little common, but it's 
 interesting to talk to a real man once in a while, any- 
 way. 
 
 (Enter Jim, r.) 
 
 Jim. Howdy, ever'body. Jus' thought I'd drop in 
 a minute er two, to see whether th' new boarders got 
 here safe. (Sees they are all strangers.) Oh, excuse 
 me. (About to retire.) 
 
 Helen (approaching Jim). Oh, don't go. Are 
 you a native? Have you lived here all your life? 
 
 (Bj'ings him c.) 
 
 Jim. All of it so far. 
 
 Helen. How delightful ! Do tell me whether 
 there are any moonshiners about here, or any feudists, 
 men who hate each other and who w^ant to kill each 
 other. 
 
 Jim. Wal, now, come to think o' th' situation 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Indeed, my man, we really don't 
 care to hear anything just now. My daughter is a bit 
 impetuous. She really doesn't think what she says. 
 
 Jim. Seein' how th' land lies, I think I'll go an' git 
 a drink. (Going l.) 
 
 Helen. Please wait a minute. (Goes to Jim.) 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Daughter, daughter, how often must 
 I tell you not to be so ready to pick up these creatures 
 who cross your path ? 
 
 Helen. I came here to the Ozarks to find a 
 romance, and I'm going to do it. 
 
 (Brings Jim down r.) 
 
26 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 / 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Such unappreciative conduct. Really, 
 it is beyond me. ( Goes to Fudgetop,^ l. ) 
 
 Jim. Say, I reckon I better be goin'. 
 
 Helen. Oh, don't hurry. This really is such a 
 romantic country that I want to find out more about it. 
 Won't you tell me something about the country ? 
 
 Jim. They ain't much t' tell. Th' country's too 
 dern rocky fer a man to farm, an' most o' th' time it's 
 too dern dry fer pasture, an' th' result is that they ain't 
 much thrives here 'ceptin' ticks an' chiggers. An' they 
 ain't much romance to either one o' them. 
 
 Helen. But surely there are some stories of un- 
 usual interest, some adventures. 
 
 Jim. Oh, yes, they's plenty o' them. They happen 
 ever' once in a while when I'm fishin'. Th' las' time I 
 went fishin' I hooked a bass, an' th' thing played s' 
 hard it got all tired out afore I landed it. Honest 
 Injun, that fish was s' tired a-fightin', it got plumb ex- 
 hausted so's it couldn't swim — an' drownded afore I 
 c'd git it on th' bank. 
 
 Helen. The poor thing! What did you do 
 with it? 
 
 Jim. Well, I started to throw it back in th' crick, 
 an' then I rickollected it was dead, an' wouldn't come 
 to life to enjoy swimmin' no more, so I took it home, 
 an' th' ole woman cooked it. 
 
 Helen. How thoughtful ! But aren't there any 
 real romances here ? Aren't there any moonshiners or 
 feudists ? 
 
 Jim. Come to think o' it now, they is one real bad 
 moonshiner here. I ain't a-tellin' his name, fer that 
 might git me int' trouble, an' I ain't a-wantin' to git 
 shot. This here's a bad actor. He's killed 'bout a 
 dozen men er so, an' he's swore they ain't nobody 
 a-goin' to ketch him alive. 
 
 FuDGETOP (to Mrs. Glover). Don't you really 
 think we'd better be leaving a place like this ? Really, 
 
 I am afraid for Miss Helen to 
 
 ^Jim. Bad man, he is. He wouldn't think nothin' 
 o' shootin' all o' us, if he thought it'd help him git 
 away from th' revenoo. He told me they's a feUer 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 27 
 
 here a-pretendin' to be a boarder, but he's a revenoo. 
 This feller I know— he's goin' to git him. 
 
 (FuDGETOP nervous.) 
 
 FuDGETOP. Mrs. Glover, don't you think this will 
 be too exciting for your charming daughter's nerves? 
 Don't you think v/e had better find another place to 
 spend the summer? 
 
 Jim. As I was a-sayin*, he's one o' these here 
 fellers that can't eat breakfast with any sort o' relish 
 'less he's killed a feller that mornin'. He's th' most 
 wickedest 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Dear me, we can't stay here. 
 
 FuDGETOP. No, we must be going at once. 
 
 Helen. You two may go at once, but Fm going to 
 stay here until I see that man, if I have to stay summer 
 and winter. 
 
 Jim. Great Jehoshaphat ! She'll shore have to live 
 here till she dies. 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
ACT II 
 
 SCENE. — Interior of Henry Simpkins' store. 
 Shelves and counter at l. of stage; barrel down c, 
 with boxes at l. and r. of it; chair down r. ; barrels, 
 boxes, show-cases, etc., up c. and r. 
 
 {Curtain rising discloses Jim seated at l. of barrel, 
 Henry behind counter l.) 
 
 Jim. Say, Henry, that there dood a-stayin' with 
 youens is th' dodgastedest fool I ever seen. He kep' 
 a-pesterin' me to go a-tishin' till I finally took him 
 'long with me to th' river t'other day. 
 
 Henry. I seen ye goin' down the road. What 
 kind of a uniform was that he had on? 
 
 Jim. Search me. General in the milishy, I reckon. 
 An' he had a whole trunk full o' fishin' truck. They 
 warn't nothin' to suit him. Th' river wuz either too 
 deep er too shaller, th' water wuz either too muddy er 
 too clear, th' current wuz either too swift er not swift 
 'nough, thar wuz too many clouds er th' sun was 
 a-shinin' too bright, an' out o' 'bout a bushel o' flies 
 that dern idjit couldn't find one that suited him. Say, 
 if every drop o' water in th' river was a bass, he'd 
 kick 'cause they warn't whales. 
 
 Henry. That dood don't look like no fisherman to 
 me. Looks to me like he's a sucker, an' old lady 
 Glover's a-fishin' fer him. He's landed all right, but 
 that don't end th' business by a jugful. Miss Helen's 
 th' bait, but she don't seem to like her job. 
 
 Jim. Gosh all fish hooks ! If a gal's got any spirit 
 at all, she ain't a-wantin' to be hitched up with that 
 dodgasted imitashun o' a human critter. 
 
 Henry. She's got spirit, all right. Her maw ain't 
 won out yit. 
 
 Jim. No, an' I bet she don't. Th' gal's got too 
 28 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 29 
 
 much spunk. I'd bet she gives th' old lady Ih' slip 
 yet, an' runs off with that there artist. 
 
 Henry. She shore seems to like him, all right, 
 but I don't reckon she knows he's a artist. Y'u see, 
 afore them city folks come. Mister Winston asked 
 Jerushy an' th' rest o' us not to say nothin' 'bout him 
 bein' a artist. It shore makes a feller feel kind o' 
 suspicious, though, don't it? 
 
 Jim. Yes, but it don't make a feller feel suspicious 
 nothin' like ol' lady Glover feels suspicious. She 
 ain't willin' to let th' gal an' Winston in the same room. 
 
 Henry. Well, all this ain't a-gettin' nowhere, so 
 fer as that domino game's concerned. I'm a-feelin' 
 right trim like fer a game to-day. 
 
 Jim. So'm I. Fetch them dominoes an' we'll see 
 who's bes' man. 
 
 (Henry brings dominoes and places them on barrel. 
 Jim sits l. and Henry r. of barrel.) 
 
 Henry {shuffling dominoes). Seein' as how I'm 
 a-wantin' to play this here game, I reckon it'll be just 
 my luck to have Jerushy call 'bout th' time we git 
 started. 
 
 Jim {selecting his dominoes). Well, jus' take it 
 easy. Her callin' won't hurt nothin'. 
 
 Henry {studying dominoes). No, I 'low her call- 
 in' won't hurt nothin', but it's havin' her come arter 
 me that I don't like. 
 
 Jim. Seein' as I got th' double six, I reckon I 
 better play fust. {Lays down double six.) I s'pose 
 y'u heerd 'bout a grand jury a-bein' ordered over to 
 Forsyth ? 
 
 Henry {laying down domino). There's th' six- 
 three. That gives me a start o' fifteen. No, I never 
 heerd nothin' 'bout it. What's th' grand jury a-goin' 
 to do? Pile up costs agin th' taxpayers, I reckon. 
 Seems to me th' community's been a-gittin' on sort o' 
 peaceful like. 
 
 Jim. Things has been quiet 'round here, but I hear 
 they's been a sight o' trouble over back o' Bristle Ridge, 
 They's been somebody runnin' a still over there. I 
 
20 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 reckon it won't be long till we hev th* guv'ment down 
 on us. They ain't been a rev noo 'round here fer 
 mighty nigh a year now. 
 
 Jerusha {outside R.). Hen-ree ! 
 
 Henry. I knowed it, an' me with that start o' 
 fifteen. 
 
 Jim. Jus' keep on a-playin', an' mebbe she'll fergit. 
 
 Henry. Fergit ! Jerushy fergit ! Gosh a-mighty, 
 Jim, y'u ain't been married to her nigh on to thirty 
 year, er y'u wouldn't be a-makin' no rash statement 
 like that. 
 
 Jim. No, I ain't been married t' Jerushy nigh on 
 to thirty year, an' I reckon that's one thing I got to be 
 thankful fer each night when I say my prayers. 
 
 •Jerusha (outside r.). Hen-ree! Hen-ree Simp- 
 kins ! 
 
 Henry. All right, Jerushy, I'm a-comin\ 
 
 Jerusha (outside r,). Yes, I know y're a-comin', 
 but when? 
 
 Henry. Right now. 
 
 Jim. Jus' take it easy, Henry, take it easy. 
 
 Henry. Yes, y've told me that two er three times, 
 an' ever' time I try it, th' result don't sound nothin* 
 like takin' it easy. 
 
 Jim. Then why don't y'u try feedin' her a leetle 
 taffy ? Lots o' times a leetle lump o' sugar'll bring th* 
 wildes' horse up from th' pasture. 
 
 Henry. They ain't nothin' that suits Jerushy, 
 *ceptin' to go when y're called. (Rises.) She's called 
 a couple o' times, an' 'twon't be long now till she'll be 
 a-comin' in. 
 
 (Enter Jerusha, r. Advances down r. c.) 
 
 Jerusha. Looky here, Henry Simpkins, did y'u 
 think I was a-practicin' singin' when I was a-standin' 
 out there a-callin' yer name ? 
 
 Henry. No, Jerushy, I never thought nothin' like 
 that, but I got plumb interested in listenin' to Jim here. 
 I was jus' a-startin' when y'u come in. 
 
 ^ Jerusha. I might 'a' knowed that good-fer-nothin' 
 Jim was here. I reckon if I was a-dyin' an' y'u was 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 3I 
 
 in here a-talkin' to Jim, y'd jus' go on a-talkin', an' let 
 me go on a-dyin'. 
 
 Jim. Gosh all hemlock, Jerushy, seems y'u ain't 
 a-feelin' well to-day. 
 
 Jerusiia. I'd like to know who could be a-feelin* 
 well, wiih such trash as you a-loafin' 'round a-keepin' 
 their husband from workin'. 
 
 Jim. Great Christopher, Jerushy, them city folks'd 
 be surprised to hear y'u talk like that. 
 
 Jerusha. Y'u ain't fool 'nough to think they'd 
 blame me fer a-talkin' that way 'bout y'u, air y'u.^ 
 
 Jim. That ain't what I mean at all, Jerushy. Y'u 
 see, they're a-thinkin' y're sich a fine dispositioned 
 woman that they'd be plumb supprised to death to 
 hear y'u a-talkin' that away. 
 
 Jerusha. Y'u don't think y're a-goin' to catch me 
 on any sich taffy as that, do y'u, Jim Dobbs? 
 
 Jim. Wal, if y'u don't care nothin' fer th' fav'r'ble 
 'pinion o* them that's a-payin' y'u board, all right. It 
 ain't nothin' to me. 
 
 Jerusha (a little mollified). I allers did pride my- 
 self on a-havin' boarders set a sight o' store by me. 
 Only I Avas a-thinkin' y'u had somethin' up yer sleeve. 
 
 Jim. It wasn't nothin' like that, Jerushy. I wuz 
 jus' a-tellin' what I heerd 'em sayin' 'mongst 'emselves 
 t'other day. 
 
 Henry. What is it y're a-wantin' me to do, 
 Jerushy ? 
 
 Jerusha. They's some wood to be cut, an' some 
 peaches to be fetched from the fur orchard. 
 
 Henry. Well, we was purty nigh through, an' I 
 was 'lowin' to beat Jim, seein' I got sich a good start. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, seein' as how it's middlin' early, 
 I reckon y'u might's well finish that game. But don't 
 do no foolin' 'round arter y'u git through. 
 
 (Exit, R.) 
 
 Henry {resuming seat as Jerusha exits). All 
 right. I'll be 'long in a minute. 
 
 Jim. I tol' y'u so, Henry. They's more'n one way 
 to manage a woman, an' if one way won't do it, all 
 
^2 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 that's necessary is to find sonie other way. They's a 
 key fer every door, all right, but it ain't alius easy to 
 git th' right one. 
 
 Henry. Yes, I reckon they's a key fer every door, 
 all right, but they's some of 'em git lost. 
 
 {Enter Helen, r.) 
 
 Helen {coming dozvn r.). Dear me, this must be 
 an exciting game. Who is w^inning? 
 
 Jim. Looks like Henry here is a-gittin' a mighty 
 good start. 
 
 Helen. Surely you won't let him beat you. Don't 
 you remember telling me what a good domino player 
 you are? 
 
 Jim. I reckon I'll hev to beat him now, er y'll be 
 a-thinkin' I was a-lyin'. 
 
 Henry {laying dozvn domino). This here four an' 
 th' six on t'other end makes me ten more. I'm twenty- 
 five now, an' y'u ain't even scored. 
 
 Helen. Honestly, Mr. Dobbs, is he winning? 
 
 Jim. Oh, I ain't started to play yit. {Lays down 
 domino.) I'll jus' git rid o' this here double four, 
 while they's a chanct. 
 
 Henry {laying down domino). An' I'll jus' lay 
 down this six-two, makin' me ten more, an' thirty- 
 five to yer nothin'. 
 
 Helen. I knew it, I knew it. I hope he beats you 
 well, Mr. Dobbs. It will serve you right for being so 
 boastful. 
 
 Henry {laying down domino). I'm playin' th' 
 two-five. 
 
 Jim. Jus' like I wanted. I'm a-playin' th' four- 
 five an' countin' ten. 
 
 Henry. Walked right into it, didn't y'u? . I'm 
 a-playin' th' double five an' countin' fifteen more, an' 
 that makes me fifty an' out. 
 
 Jim. Gosh a-mighty! But then it ain't no wonder 
 I lost, seein' as how I had to entertain th' wimmen 
 folks. First they wuz Jerushy an' then come Miss 
 Helen, an' I jus' natchally couldn't think no more 'bout 
 th' game. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 33 
 
 Helen. Mr. Dobbs, that isn't one bit kind of you. 
 You should take your defeat Hke a man, instead of 
 blaming it on the women. But, after all, that's a 
 man's way. 
 
 Henry. Kind o' sorry Jerushy let me stay to finish 
 th' game, ain't y'u, Jim ? 
 
 Jim. By crickey, I'll beat y'u th' nex' time. 
 
 Henky. Oh, I reckon it'll be 'bout as easy th' nex' 
 time. 
 
 {Enter Jerusha, r., m time to hear last words. Comes 
 dozvn R.) 
 
 Jerusha. H y'u don't come on an' 'tend to things 
 'round here in better shape, they won't be no next time 
 in this triflin' domino playin' business. 
 
 (Henry rises.) 
 
 Helen. Oh, Mrs. Simpkins, you shouldn't scold 
 Mr. Simpkins so. He has just beaten the great cham- 
 pion, the Honorable Mr. James Dobbs. 
 
 Jerusha. Onery James Dobbs, y'u better say. An' 
 if I had a husband that couldn't beat Jim Dobbs a-doin' 
 anything 'cept lyin', I'd quit him an' git a new one. 
 But they ain't no danger. They ain't nobody kin beat 
 Jim Dobbs a-lyin'. 
 
 Jim. Y'u shore air compliment'ry, Jerushy. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, if th' truth's a compliment, y're 
 welcome to it. But I got to be a-gittin' out o' here. 
 Come on, Henry. (Goes to door R.) 
 
 Jim (to Henry). Y'u won't do it nex' time, by 
 crickey. 
 
 Henry. Y'u been a-sayin' that ever since I've 
 knowed y'u, an' it ain't often come true. 
 
 Jerusha (at door r.). Come on here, Henry 
 Simpkins. 
 
 Henry. All right, Jerushy, I'm a-comin'. 
 
 (Follozvs Jerusha out door r.) 
 Helen (taking seat Henry had). Now, Mr^ 
 
34 
 
 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Dobbs, aren't you going to finish that story you started 
 to tell me the other day about the moonshiner over on 
 Whistle Ridge? 
 
 Jim. Bristle Ridge, Miss Helen. They ain't no sich 
 place 'round here as Whistle Ridge. 
 
 Helen. Weil, it doesn't make much difference any- 
 way, just so you tell me the story. 
 
 Jim. Le' me see. I wuz a-tellin' y'u 'bout th' way 
 he kep' a-dodgin' th' rev'noo from Springfield, warn't 
 I ? (Helen nods.) Wal, y'u see, he jus' had a leetle 
 still outfit, thet wouldn't make more'n ten er twelve 
 gallons at a run. He kep' th' outfit in a cave till th' 
 guv'ment got nex' to that, an' then he moved int' a ol* 
 hanted cabin. Then, when th' trail got too hot thar, 
 he pulled off th' bes' part o' th' hull show. He sneaked 
 th' hull dern still outfit int' th' church house an' hid it 
 in th' stove. They warn't no one 'bout th' church 
 'cept on Sundays, an' they warn't no partickler danger 
 o' this here chap a-gittin' caught, seein's he never went 
 nigh th' place when they was any sarvices a-goin' on. 
 He'd 'a' got by with it all right, if they hadn't come a 
 cold snap one prayer meetin' night airly in th' fall, an' 
 th' pastor went in to build a fire an' found th' hull still 
 outfit. I reckon he'd 'a' kep' his mouth shut if th' 
 still hadn't been run in a church house, but that wuz 
 a-goin' a leetle might stronger'n he c'd stand. 
 
 Helen. What sort of a looking man is he? Is he 
 young and strong and handsome? 
 
 Jim. T' be sure he is. He's a fine lookin' feller, he 
 is. Mebbe y'U git a chanct to see him, an' mebbe y'u 
 won't. 
 
 Helen. Oh, I must see him. Your story is so 
 romantic I couldn't go back to St. Louis without hav- 
 ing the pleasure of seeing a man like that. 
 
 Jim. Yas, that's a tolerable romantic story. An' I 
 'low y're sort o' interested in this here romantic busi- 
 ness, ain't y'u? Leastways, if y'li ain't, some one else 
 is. That there Fudgepot keeps a-traihn' 'round arter 
 y'u like a pup arter a kid with a string. Seems sort 
 o' like y're a leetle interested in him, too. 
 
 Helen. I'm afraid it's hardly correct to say that I 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 35 
 
 am interested in him. Mother seems to be, but it isn't 
 catching. 
 
 Jim. Oh, I don' know. Seems hke her hull in- 
 terest is in a-ketchin' him fer you. 
 
 Helen. Then I fear her interest is being wasted. 
 What's become of Mr. Winston? He was here a 
 couple of days ago, and was coming back the next 
 evening, but I haven't seen him. 
 
 Jim. Y'u ain't seen him lately, eh? Y'u don't 
 reckon he's got jealous of Fudgepot, an' lit out, do 
 y'u? 
 
 Helen. Nonsense. I like to have him come 
 around occasionally. He's such a relief from Mr. 
 Fudgetop. 
 
 Jim. Sort o' medicine, eh? Wal, they's some 
 medicine that's sweet an' they's some that's bitter. 
 
 Helen. Yes, and there is some that isn't either, 
 but is just medicine. 
 
 Jim. Then I 'low y'u calc'late he's jus' so-so. 
 
 Helen. You are as poor a guesser as you are a 
 domino player. 
 
 Jim. Now looky here. Miss Helen, that ain't 
 hardly fair. Y'u come a-lookin' on, an' I jus' natchally 
 got flustered. 
 
 {Enter Bub, r. Comes dozvn hack of barrel.) 
 
 Bub. Say, hev you-uns saw Tildy? I'm a-lookin' 
 fer her, an' I ain't havin' no luck. She wuz a-goin' to 
 set out in th' swing a while with me when she got th' 
 dishes done up, an' now I kain't find her nowheres. 
 
 Jim. She's give y'u th' slip. Y'u don't 'low she 
 wants to be a-settin' 'round with y'u, do y'u, when 
 they's dan,o;er o' people a-seein' y'u t'gether? 
 
 Bub. Shore, she ain't ashamed o' bein' saw with 
 me. I'm a-goin' to make her keer fer me, I am. I bin 
 a-readin' a book what tells how to make th' gals fall in 
 love with y'u, an' I'm a-goin' to make her fall in love 
 with me. 
 
 (Pulls small book from pocket and opens it.) 
 
36 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Helen. Perhaps she's waiting to see how the feud 
 turns out. 
 
 Jim. Feud? What feud? 
 
 Helen. Bub has a feud on with a man whom he 
 says is trying to take Tildy away from him. Bub's 
 going to kill him. 
 
 Jim {laughing). Who, Bub? Kill him, hey? 
 Sounds real serious. 
 
 Bub {coming around in front of barrel, c). All 
 right; you kin laugh, but I'm goin* to git him some 
 day. 
 
 Jim. Who is it, Bub? 
 
 Bub. Winston ! 
 
 (Helen and Jim, surprised, turn tozvard Bub sud- 
 denly. ) 
 
 H--- } What! 
 
 Bub. Yes, sir. He's tryin' to take Tildy, an' I 
 won't stand fer it. 
 
 Helen. Oh, Bub, you must be mistaken. 
 
 Bub. No, I ain't, neither. 
 
 Jim. What's Mister Winston been a-doin', Bub, 
 makin' eyes at Tildy? 
 
 Bub. Worse'n that. He's been a-kissin' her. 
 
 Helen {laughing). Oh, come now. Bub, you're 
 letting Mr. Winston play a joke on you by telling 
 things. 
 
 Bub. I ain't a-carin' fer what he's been a-sayin'. 
 It's what he's been a-doin' that I don't like, an' that's 
 a-kissin' Tildy. 
 
 Jim. Who tol' you, Bub? 
 
 Bub. Nobody tol' me. I seed it. 
 
 Helen {haughtily). Well, I did think Mr. Win- 
 ston was a gentleman. 
 
 Bub. Golly, I don't blame y'u fer a-gittin' mad. 
 It orter make y'u as mad ps it does me. 
 
 Helen (coldly). Mad! I don't know what you 
 me?n. What Mr. Winston does is a matter of com- 
 plete indifference to me. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 37 
 
 Bub. Wal, y'u shore looked like y'u wuz plumb 
 mad. 
 
 Jim. Wasn't y'u a-talkin' 'bout medicine a while 
 ago, Miss Helen — medicine that warn't neither sweet 
 ner bitter? Seems like this here dose had jus' a leetle 
 o' th' bitter in it. 
 
 Helen. Really, Mr. Dobbs, I fail to see any occa- 
 sion for such remarks. It's quite evident, Bub, that 
 Tildy is not here. Perhaps you had better look for 
 her somewhere else. (Goes up c.) 
 
 EuB. All right, seein' as how y'u don't want me, 
 I'll be a-movin' 'long. But remember, I give y'u fair 
 warnin'. 
 
 (Exit Bub, door r.) 
 
 Jim. I don't reckon they's any cause fer alarm. 
 Miss Helen. Bub's prob'ly been a-dreamin' a lot o' 
 that stuff. I don't think they's any need o' worryin' 
 'bout Mr. Winston a-carin' fer Tildy. 
 
 Helen. He can care for any one he pleases. It 
 is nothing to me. 
 
 Jim. Wal now, they ain't no pertickler reason fer 
 gittin' uppish. I jus' 'lowed from th' way Mr. Win- 
 ston's been a-actin' that he sort o' took a likin' to y'u. 
 An' I sort o' figgered out that y'u warn't alt'gether 
 unv/illin'. 
 
 Helen. Really, Mr. Dobbs, your allusions are 
 quite unwarranted, and annoying as well. 
 
 Jim. Seein' as hov/ that's th' case, I reckon I better 
 shut up. 
 
 (Enter Tildy, r.) 
 
 Tildy. Howdy, ever'body. I'm a-lookin' fer some- 
 body. 
 
 BIelen. Mr. Winston is not here. 
 
 ]iM. Bub jus' left, but he never said v/har he wuz 
 a-goin'. 
 
 Tildy (going tip c. to Helen). I reckon I ain't 
 a-foolin' my time away a-lookin' fer Bub. How'd y'u 
 know I was a-lookin' fer Mr. Winston, Miss Helen? 
 
 Jim. Bub's been in here a-tellin' things 'bout y'u 
 an' him. 
 
^8 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 TiLDY. 1 ain't a-carin' nothiii' 'bout what Bub's 
 been a-tellin' 'bout him an' me. What I want to know 
 is what y'u been a-hearin' 'bout me an' Mr. Winston. 
 
 Jim. Seems as how Mr. Winston sort o' fergot 
 hisself an' kissed y'u. 
 
 TiLDY. Fergot hisself nothin'. He ast me, an' I I 
 didn't see no reason fer refusin'. 
 
 Helen. Indeed, I am wholly at a loss to under- 
 stand how you can be so shameless. 
 
 TiLDY. What is they to be 'shamed of in bein' 
 kissed? All the girls I know gets kissed. 
 
 Helen. Such caresses ordinarily are for those who ■ 
 are engaged. But I presume you and Mr. Winston ' 
 are engaged, so, no doubt, you did perfectly right. j 
 
 (Comes down c.) | 
 
 TiLDY. No, we ain't engaged. Mr. Winston just 
 likes me, an' I ain't no ways a-feelin' mean toward 
 A/[r. Winston. (Follozvs Helen dozvn c.) But here 
 lately Mr. Winston's took up with y'u a sight. 
 
 Helen. That will do, Tildy. I am not in the habit 
 of having the slightest interest in those who are so far 
 beneath me. i 
 
 Jim. Hones', now, Miss Helen, y'u don't think Mr. I 
 Winston is sunk s' low, jus' 'cause he kissed Tildy, \ 
 do y'u? j 
 
 Tildy. They ain't neither on y'u tol' me yit where j 
 Mr. Winston's at. ; 
 
 Helen. Perhaps Mr. Dobbs can tell you. I am | 
 sure I neither know nor care. (Goes up c.) \ 
 
 Tildy. Then I reckon I better go an' look fer him. j 
 
 (Starts up R.) ' 
 
 Helen. Yes, I am quite sure you won't find him 
 here. • 
 
 Tildy. I b'lieve I'll be a-goin'. (Goes to door R.) i 
 I hope y'u won't be a-tryin' to take Mr. Winston from ! 
 me, Miss Helen. ; 
 
 Helen (pointing). There is the door. ^ 
 
 Tildy. All right. I'm a-goin'. 
 
 (Exit, R.) 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 39 
 
 Helen. The very idea! How can that girl dare 
 suggest that I am interested in Mr. Winston? 
 
 (Comes down l. to Jim.) 
 
 Jim. I reckon that'll make Fudgepot feel a dern 
 sight easier. I 'low he's been a-worryin' somewhat 
 fer fear y'u wuz becomin' interested in Mr. Winstc.i, 
 an' I 'low things wuz a-lookin' thet way to me. But, 
 seein' as how I had th' dope all wrong, y'u kin be 
 interested in Fudgepot arter all. 
 
 Helen. Why do you persist with your annoying 
 remarks, Mr. Dobbs ? You seem to think I have only 
 two men to choose from. And since you have spoken 
 on the subject so frankly, I may suggest that Vv'hile 
 Mr. Fudgetop is far above this fellow Winston he is 
 not a man who could arouse any woman's interest. 
 
 {Goes R.) 
 
 Jim. Wal, I reckon y're right thar. They ain't no 
 cause to quarrel on that p'int. 
 
 {Enter Fudgetop, r. Comes down back of barrel.) 
 
 Fudgetop. Ah, Miss Helen, I have been looking 
 everywhere for you. Fm quite delighted at finding 
 you. 
 
 Helen. I am sure you are no more delighted than 
 I. I was just hoping you would come soon. 
 
 {Goes c. to Fudgetop.) 
 
 Jim {aside). Wal, what d' y'u think o* that? 
 
 Fudgetop. Perhaps you would enjoy going for a 
 walk. 
 
 Helen. I am sure it would be delightful. 
 
 Jim {down l.). Great Christopher! When it 
 comes to turnin' 'bout face, a Hun with a couple o' 
 good Americans arter him ain't in it with a woman. 
 
 Helen {soinezvhaf confused). Don't you think we 
 might enjoy sitting here a while? Mr. Dobbs is very 
 good company. 
 
 Jim {aside). Gosh-a-mighty ! An' a minute ago 
 
40 
 
 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 she couldn't find no words strong *nough to bawl me 
 out. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Really, my dear Miss Helen, I have 
 something important to say to you. Are you trying 
 to tease me by making me jealous of Mr. Dobbs? Ha, 
 ha, ha, that's what I call a good joke. 
 
 Jim. Mebbe that's why Miss Helen's been with 
 Mr. Winston s' much lately, jus' try in' to make y'u 
 jealous. 
 
 Helen {angrily). Mr. Dobbs! 
 
 FuDGETOP. Bah Jove, that's almost an insult, don't 
 you know. 
 
 Jim. Wal, it warn't such a turribl' insult till that 
 thar Bub turned his mouth loose a leetle while ago. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Turned his mouth loose? Really, Miss 
 Helen, the fellow uses such shockingly bad grammar. 
 
 Jim. Yas, I reckon my grammar's purty bad, but, 
 seein's how I kain't have both, I 'low I'd rather have 
 sense than grammar. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Bah Jove, do you mean to insinuate 
 anything ? 
 
 Jim. Oh, no, nothin' y'u c'd understand. 
 
 {Enter Mrs. Glover, r. Comes down r.) 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Ah, Mr. Fudgetop, I have found you 
 at last. And with my daughter, too. I might have 
 known it. I am going for a little stroll. Won't you 
 two come wdth me? 
 
 Fudgetop (c). Certainly. Let's be going. Miss 
 Helen. 
 
 Helen (r. c). I believe I'll stay here. I took 
 quite a long walk by myself this afternoon, and I'm 
 tired. 
 
 Mrs. Glover {doivn^.). But we are not going far, 
 daughter, and perhaps I shall have something to say 
 to you and Mr. Fudgetop. 
 
 Fudgetop. We must hear what your mother has 
 to say, by all means, Miss Helen. 
 
 Helen. Oh, she's told me often enough. I don't 
 have to go walking to hear that. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Surely you should be pleased, daugh- 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 4 1 
 
 ter, to have Mr. Ftidgetop's company, even if you 
 don't care for my presence. 
 
 Jim. Thet there shore is somethin' to give y'u lots 
 o' pleasure, Miss Helen. They ain't many gals thet 
 wouldn't jump at th' chanct to go walkin' widi Mr. 
 Fudgepot. Jus' think how much more pleasure that'd 
 he than goin' walkin' with Mr. Winston. 
 
 Helen. Mr. Dobbs, I shall feel grateful to you if 
 you do not mention the name of that odious man again 
 in my presence. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Yes, indeed, don't mention the name 
 of that odious man again in her presence. 
 
 FuDGETOP. No, bah Jove, unless you want to settle 
 with me, don't mention the name of that odious man 
 again in her presence. 
 
 {Enter Henry, r. Comes down l.) 
 
 Helen. Your coarse effort at humor is most un- 
 welcome. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Yes, indeed. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Yes, indeed. 
 
 Jim. Yas, indeed. 
 
 Henry. Yes, indeed. 
 
 Mrs. Glover (Hirning upon Henry). What have 
 you to do with this? 
 
 Henry. Nothin', same as Jim. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Come, children, let us go. 
 
 (Mrs. Glover, follozved by Fudgetop and Helen, 
 exennt, r.) 
 
 Jim (dozvn l.). She called him a odious person. 
 Henry. Who? {Crosses r.) 
 Jim. Miss Helen. 
 
 FIenry. Who called Miss Helen a odious person? 
 Jim. Nobody. She done th' callin' herself. 
 Henry. Well, who'd she call that? 
 Jim. Winston. 
 
 Henry. Great Christopher ! She's sort o' changed 
 her mind, ain't she? 
 Jim. Nope. 
 Henry. Jus' thinks she has, eh? 
 
42 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Jim. Nope/ 
 
 (Henry crosses to Jim.) 
 
 Henry. Say, what in thunder air y'u a-drivin' at? 
 She ain't changed her mind, she ain't thought she has, 
 an' she called that feller Winston a odious person 
 arter bein' with him 'bout all th' time durin' th' last 
 few days. What is she a-doin', tryin' to fool her maw 
 an' that dood? 
 
 Jim. Nope. 
 
 Henry. Then what in tarnation thunder is she 
 a-doin' ? 
 
 Jim. Jus' sort o' got her dander up agin Winston. 
 
 Henry. What's he been a-doin' t' her? 
 
 Jim. Nothin'. 
 
 Henry. Jim Dobbs, air y'u goin' crazy, er ain't 
 y'u jus' got no sense? 
 
 Jim. Neither on 'em. 
 
 Henry. Would y'u mind explainin' yerself? 
 
 Jim. Nope. 
 
 Henry. Then cut loose. 
 
 Jim. Thet gal's in love with Winston. 
 
 Henry. She called him a odious person. 
 
 Jim. Wal, ain't thet what I tol' y'u ? 
 
 Henry. Yes, an' that don't sound like no lovin' 
 game to me. 
 
 Jim. Winston kissed Tildy t'other day. 
 
 Henry. What's that there got to do with this here? 
 
 Jim. Everything. 
 
 Henry. How d' y'u figger that out ? 
 
 Jim. Bub come in here a leetle while ago an' tol' 
 Miss Helen 'bout Winston a-kissin' Tildy. She flew 
 offen th' han'le right then. Hearin' that Winston 
 kissed another gal jus' natchally upsot her. When a 
 gal fusses 'bout a feller kissin' some other gal, thet 
 means she's in love with him. See? 
 
 Henry. Shore. I see now. Jim, I jus' didn't 
 know y'u was that smart. 
 
 Jim. It ain't that I got much sense. It's jus' thet 
 y'u ain't got no sense 'tall. 
 
 Henry. Jim Dobbs, words like them is a compli- 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 43 
 
 ment, a-comin' from you. But (drazving back fist) 
 I got a dern good notion to knock th' tar out o' y'u, 
 anyways. 
 
 Jim (squaring arms for fight). Come on, y'u dod- 
 gasted or checker play in' joke. 
 
 (Enter Helen, r. Conies dozvn l. betiveen Henry 
 and Jim.) 
 
 Helen. Why, Mr. Simpkins— Mr. Dobbs, what on 
 earth is the matter? 
 
 Jim (laughing). We been a-payin' compHments 
 back an' forth, an' words ain't strong 'nough. 
 
 Helen. I began to think I was going to see some 
 one murdered ; both of you were glaring at each other 
 so fiercely. 
 
 Henry. No danger o' anybody bein' killed. Jim 
 couldn't kill me, an' he ain't worth killin'. 
 
 (Goes up L. and arranges goods on shelves, etc.) 
 
 Jim. I thought y'u wuz a-goin' fer a walk, Miss 
 Helen, you an' yer maw an' Fudgepot. (Crosses R.) 
 
 Helen. I got tired and told them to go by them- 
 selves. (Takes seat l. of checker stand.) 
 
 Jim. Wuz y'u tired o' th' comp'ny, er tired o' th' 
 walk ? 
 
 Helen. What a foolish question. 
 
 Jim. What a plumb wise answer. 
 _ Helen. I think I could have walked a little longer, 
 if I had cared to. 
 
 Jim. I 'low y'u wouldn't o' been s' tired if y'u had 
 Mr. Wmston 'stead o' Mr. Fudgepot 'long with y'u 
 
 Henry. Even if he did kiss Tildy. 
 
 Helen. I am quite sure that Air. Winston's love 
 affairs do not interest me in the slightest. It makes 
 no difference to me whom Mr. Winston kisses. 
 
 (Enter Winston, r.) 
 
 Winston. Hello, Henry. (Helen jumps up, 
 startled.) Why, Miss Glover, this must be mv lucky 
 day. Mrs. Simpkins said you had gone for a walk. 
 
44 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 (Advances down c.) 
 
 Helen (coldly). So I did, but I returned. 
 
 Winston {piiazled). Yes, so I see. In fact, I 
 would have known it by this time, even if you hadn't 
 told me. 
 
 Helen {haughtily). Really, Mr. Winston, I can 
 see no reason for your sarcasm. 
 
 Winston. Miss Glover, I am completely at a loss 
 to understand your meaning. Have I said or done 
 anything to offend you? 
 
 Helen {down l. ). There is such a thing, Mr. 
 Winston, as carrying familiarity too far. 
 
 Winston {down c). Miss Glover, I have tried at 
 all times to conduct myself toward you 
 
 Jim {dozvn r.). Tarnation, Mr. Winston, I 'low 
 y'u ain't as bright as I reckoned y'u wuz. It ain't th' 
 way y'u treated her that's a-causin' th' trouble. 
 
 Helen. Mr. Dobbs, your remarks are 
 
 Henry {coming down l.). Sort o' to th' p'int, eh, 
 Jim? I reckon, Mr. Winston, it ain't how y'u treated 
 Miss Helen that's started th' rumpus. It's how y'u 
 treated some one else. 
 
 Jim. Mebbe we're both wrong, Henry. Mebbe th' 
 trouble is 'cause he didn't treat Miss Helen like he 
 treated somebody else. How 'bout that. Miss Helen? 
 
 Helen. I shall go at once. You are insulting. 
 
 Winston {stopping her). Wait a moment, please. 
 {To Jim.) I don't know what it's all about — but you 
 take that back. 
 
 Jim. All right; I apologize. 
 
 Winston. You treat this young lady respectfully 
 or you'll hear from me. {To Helen.) Now, what is 
 the trouble? I don't like to be treated like a yellow 
 dog or a murderer, without being given some sort of 
 reason for it. 
 
 Jim. Who said y'u wuz a yaller dog? 
 
 Henry. Who said y'u v/as a murderer? 
 
 Winston. Nobody said it, but all of you act like it. 
 
 Ji^r. Wal, y'u see, Mr. Winston, it's this away. A 
 leetle while ago 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 45 
 
 Helen. That will do, Mr. Dobbs. If there must 
 be an explanation, I shall make it myself, at some more 
 suitable time. 
 
 Winston. I am sure, Miss Glover, there can be no 
 better time than right now. There is a fine view to be 
 had at this time of day from the summit of Old Baldy. 
 Won't you let me show it to you? 
 
 Helen. That at least will reduce the number of 
 undesirables from three to one. Come on. 
 
 (Goes tip R.) 
 
 Winston. I can't say that I appreciate your reason 
 for accompanying me, but it may give an opportunity 
 for an explanation. (Bozvs. ) After you, Miss Glover. 
 
 (Exeunt Winston and Helen, r.) 
 
 Jim (taking chair r. of checker board). All o' 
 v/hich, I 'low, means that 'fore long they'll be billin' 
 an' cooin' like as if nothin' had happened. 
 
 Henry. I hope so. An' I shore hope Miss Helen 
 gits over that huffy feelin' o' hers afore she says some- 
 thin' to Jerushy. 
 
 Jim. Great Jehoshaphat, Henry, Jerushy ain't got 
 nothin' to say 'bout this. 
 
 Henry. In one way, mebbe she ain't. But a little 
 thing like not havin' no right ain't never bothered 
 Jerushy yit. 
 
 Jerusha (heard ojf r.). Hen-ree! Hen-ree! 
 
 Henry (startled). Gosh, I hope she didn't hear 
 me. (Louder.) I'm comin', Jerushy. 
 
 (Exit, R. Enter Fudgetop, r., and comes dozvn c.) 
 
 FuDGETOP. I'm looking for Miss Glover. 
 
 Jim. She left here ten minutes ago, with you an' 
 her maw. Looks like y'd orter know where she is. 
 
 Fudgetop. She left me, don't you know. Haven't 
 you seen her since she left here with me? 
 
 Jim. I reckon. 
 
 Fudgetop. Indeed! Where is she now? 
 
 Tim. Oh, her an' Winston went a-walkin' 'bout a 
 minute afore y'u come in. 
 
46 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 FuDGETOP (coming down l.). Winston! What 
 does she see in that fellow? 
 
 Jim. Perhaps she likes his spunk. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Spunk — a very vulgar word, but I 
 think I understand you. (Edges nearer to Jim.) 
 She's always looking for romance. 
 
 Jim. Somethin' like that, I reckon. 
 
 FuDGETOP (going nearer). She loves heroes. 
 
 Jim. That's it. They all do, at her age. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Well, why couldn't I be one? 
 
 Jim (rising and looking at Fudgetop with new in- 
 terest). What, you? 
 
 Fudgetop (looking around to make sure they are 
 alone). Yes. Wouldn't it make a hit with her? 
 
 Jim (amused). It might. What's on your mind? 
 
 Fudgetop. Anything might happen in this wild 
 country. Couldn't — couldn't we fix up something thai 
 would — ah — bring me favorably to her notice? 
 
 Jim. Say, thet's an idea. But s'posin' y'u tried t' 
 be a hero an' fell down on th' job? Wouldn't Ihet be 
 worse'n not tryin' 'tall? 
 
 Fudgetop. Once I make up my mind, old chap, 
 there wiH be no failure. I shall be a hero, all right. 
 
 Jim (thought f idly). Mebbe I kin help y'u out a 
 bit. Air y'u willin' to go th' limit ? 
 
 Fudgetop. I am willing to go to any length, my 
 dear fellow, to win such a charming creature as Miss 
 Glover. 
 
 Jim (after glancing all about and going to the door). 
 Then set down here an' FU put y'u next to somethin'. 
 
 Fudgetop (taking seat l. of barrel and Jim taking 
 seat R. of stand). Vm right with you, old chap. 
 
 Jim. Y'u remember me a-tellin' 'bout a moon- 
 shiner an' murderer over on Goose Crick, that wuz a 
 shore 'nough bad man? 
 
 Fudgetop (somewhat fearfidly). Ye-es, I believe 
 I do. 
 
 Jim. Air y'u willin' to take a chanct on landin' 
 him behind th' bars? 
 
 . Fudgetop. But I might be in danger, don't you 
 know. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 47 
 
 Jim. Not if y'u work it right, an' y'u wanted to be 
 a real hero. Air y'u wilUn' to take a chanct ? 
 
 FuDGETOP. Bah Jove, I'll do it. 
 
 Jim. Thet there's th' way to talk. I'm plumb 
 proud o' y'u. 
 
 FuDGETOP. And you are sure there won't be any 
 real danger? 
 
 Jim. Not if y'u work it right. 
 
 FuDGETOP. What must I do? 
 
 Jim. Wal, th' fust thing is to tell y'u who this here 
 despyrado is. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Yes. 
 
 Jim. Winston. 
 
 FuDGETOP {delighted). Winston! Really? 
 
 Jim. Shore. Ain't I th' one thet knows? Now 
 here, listen to me, an' I'll tell y'u what to do. Hev 
 y'u got a gun ? 
 
 FuDGETOP. I have a beautiful little revolver with a 
 pearl handle. 
 
 Jim. Wall, don't put no confidence in th' pearl 
 han'le. Y'u don't shoot with that. Now listen. 
 Winston'U most likely be loafin' in here arter while. 
 If he's with Miss Helen — so much th' better. Draw 
 yer gun on him, an' then git Henry er somebody to 
 tellyphone th' sheriff. Thet's all. Ain't it easy ? 
 
 FuDGETOP. But suppose he resists. I don't want 
 to kill him, don't you know. 
 
 Jim. Git th' drop on him, dern y'u. Then he ain't 
 got no chanct. If y'u let him git wise afore y'u draw 
 yer gun, y're a dead one. P'int yer gun at him afore 
 he knows what's a-comin'. Then jus' make him set 
 down, with his hands out to his sides, till th' sheriff 
 comes. He won't be a fool, an' let y'u shoot him. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Why does Mr. Simpkins allow such 
 a man to loaf about his home? Is he afraid of 
 him ? 
 
 Jim. Henry Simpkins don't know who this here 
 feller is. He's been a-tellin' Henry he come from 
 some city, an' Henry don't know no better. He'll be 
 glad to help git him behind th' bars when he finds out 
 who he is. 
 
48 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Fl'DGETOP. Perhaps I shall need some assistance. 
 Will you assist me ? 
 
 Jim. Not much. Y'u don't reckon I want his 
 folks a-shootin' holes through me, do y'u? 
 
 FuDGETOP. Will they do that to nie? 
 
 Jim. You'll be gone afore they git t'gether. But I 
 got to stay here with my folks. An' don't y'u let on 
 fer a minute that I tol' y'u. (Rises.) 
 
 FuDGETOP (rising). You may rest assured that I 
 shall not say a word as to who informed me. But I 
 should like to have some one to assist, if necessary. 
 
 (Enter Bub, r.) 
 
 Bub. Hev aiy one o' y'u sa\v Tildy? 
 
 Jim (to FuDGETOp). There's th' feller to help y'u. 
 He's been achin' fer a chanct at V/inston. (To Bub.) 
 Nope, we ain't saw her. Say, Bub, this here Winston 
 ain't no partickler friend o' yourn, is he? 
 
 Bub (coming down c). Not much he ain't. I got 
 a feud wdth him. 
 
 Jim. How'd y'u like a chanct to git him? How'd 
 y'u like to show him up afore Tild}^ an' all these here 
 folks? 
 
 Bub. Golly ! That there'd shore please me. How 
 kin I do it? 
 
 Jim. Th' sheriff's a-lookln' fer him. He's a dan- 
 gerous man. 
 
 Bub, Golly! Mebbe I better let him alone. 
 
 Jim. Yas, I reckon so. If y'u ain't got no nerve, 
 they ain't no use a-tacklin' him. 
 
 Bub. Looky here, I ain't no coward. 
 
 Jim. All right then. Come here. (Jim pushes 
 EuB down on box r. of barrel.) Y'u kin be a real 
 shore 'nough hero, like Mr. Fudgepot's a-goin' to be. 
 
 Bub. How ? 
 
 Jim {standing behind barrel). I 'low Mr. Fudge- 
 pot'U tell y'u. I got to be a-goin'. Y'u all reckolect 
 now, that I ain't to be mentioned in this here affair. 
 Luck to y'u. 
 
 FuDGETOP. We'll get him, all right, and a thousand 
 thanks to you, old chap. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 49 
 
 (Exit Jim, r.) 
 
 Bub. We'll git who? 
 
 FuDGETOP. This smart Mr. Winston. He's the 
 man we are after. 
 
 Bub. How'U we git him? 
 
 FuDGETOP. Listen, and I shall explain. (Sits l. of 
 barrel.) Come closer. (Bub leans forward and 
 FuDGETOP resumes, after nervous glances around.) .^ 
 This Winston is a bad man, and the sheriff is after 
 him. You and I are going to capture him and 
 turn him over to the sheriff. Then we'll both be 
 heroes. 
 
 Bub. Mebbe he'll shoot us, an' I ain't a-goin' to be 
 no corpse hero, not if I kin help it, I ain't. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Nonsense ! All we have to do is to get 
 the drop on him. 
 
 Bub. What's that? 
 
 FuDGETOP. That means we must point our re- 
 volvers at him before he knows we are after him. 
 
 Bub. I ain't got no revolver to p'int. 
 
 FuDGETOP. You'll have to get a gun. 
 
 Bub. Mebbe I kin swipe Henry's ol' shotgun. 
 
 FuDGETOP. That will be all right. Are you with 
 me? 
 
 Bub. Shore. Don't I look like Fm here? 
 
 FuDGETOP. Oh, deuce take it, I mean are you going 
 to help? 
 
 Bub. I reckon — imless he begins t' shoot. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Then listen. Fll tell you what to do. 
 As soon as I find this man in here, and not expecting 
 anything, I shall enter the door, draw my revolver, and 
 command him to surrender. H he doesn't surrender, 
 I shall shoot him, although I don't want to shoot even 
 a criminal. I believe it will be better if you don't ap- 
 pear at first. That will be more heroic, and more 
 dramatic. You wait at the door, while I come in. 
 Then if I need assistance, you can be at hand. Do you 
 understand ? 
 
 Bub. Shore. Fm a-goin' to stand thar at th' door, 
 an' y're a-comin' in arter Winston. H he gits funny. 
 
^O AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 I'm a~goIn' td come in, p'int th' gun at him, an' tell 
 him to " hands up." 
 
 FuDGETOP. That's it exactly. You'll make a very 
 able lieutenant. 
 
 Winston {outside r.) . Really, Miss Helen, I don't 
 think I am quite as much of a black sheep as you make 
 me out. 
 
 Bub (trembling). Golly! Thar he is now. 
 
 FuDGETOP (trembling). And I haven't my revolver 
 with me, don't you know. But we must not let him 
 suspect. 
 
 Bub. I'm a-goin' arter thet shotgun right now. 
 
 (Bub bolts out door R., almost running over Winston 
 and Helen, who enter, r.) 
 
 Winston (looking after Bub). Holy mackerel, if 
 Jerusha sees that boy in such a hurry, she'll have a fit. 
 Why, here's Mr. Fudgetop. Can it be possible, Mr. 
 Fudgetop, that you have been able to get Bub started 
 at anything in such a hurry? 
 
 Fudgetop. I think I can claim the credit, don't you 
 know. But I must be going. (Crosses r. to door.) 
 
 Helen. You needn't leave just because Mr, Win- 
 ston and I have come. 
 
 Fudgetop (at door). You will soon be sorry you 
 have been so cold to me. 
 
 (Exit, r.) 
 
 Helen. Heavens! What can he mean? 
 
 Winston (laughing). Perhaps he's going to com- 
 mit suicide. 
 
 Helen. Surely he doesn't think V6. be sorry at 
 such a riddance as that. (They come down c.) 
 
 Winston. Now that he is gone, let me explain once 
 more. Shall we sit down a while? 
 
 (Helen takes seat r. and Winston seat l. of barrel.) 
 
 Helen. There is nothing to explain. No one who 
 would permit his affections to rest upon such a creature 
 as Tildy could even interest me. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 51 
 
 Winston. But I tell you I have never allowed my 
 affections to rest upon Tildy. 
 
 Helen. Then it is all the worse. Ho.w could you 
 abuse the poor girl's confidence ? 
 
 Winston. You don't understand. Among the 
 girls around here it's just an ordinary courtesy. Any 
 passably good-looking girl expects it. I had already 
 forgotten it — and so will she. 
 
 Helen. Yes, that is the way with men, to kiss and 
 forget. You place a high value on a woman's kiss. 
 
 {Enter Tildy, r.) 
 
 Tildy. Laws-a-me, Mr. Winston, I bin a-lookin* 
 fer y'u. 
 
 {Advances to hack of barrel Helen and Winston 
 rise. ) 
 
 Winston. Darn the luck. 
 
 Tildy. I bin a-lookin' fer y'u, Mr. Winston. 
 
 Helen. There now, Mr. Winston, aren't you glad 
 to think that she has been looking for you ? 
 
 Winston. Glad nothing. 
 
 Helen. What! {Goes r.) 
 
 Tildy. Mercy on us, Mr. Winston, air y'u mad? 
 
 Winston. Go away, Tildy, I'm busy now. 
 
 Tildy. Then I 'low I better be a-goin' ; but I'll be 
 back arter while. 
 
 Winston {downu). You needn't hurry. 
 
 {Exit Tildy, r.) 
 
 Helen {down r.). And if I believed you now, 
 perhaps in a week you would be sending me away, 
 just as you are sending poor Tildy away now. 
 
 Winston {advancing to her). Look here, Helen, 
 you are not treating me fairly, and you know it. I'll 
 admit I kissed Tildy. But it didn't mean that I cared 
 for her, and it doesn't mean that my regard for some 
 other woman is meaningless. Hang it all, I'm not 
 
52 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 asking for anything except a chance to prove that I do 
 care for you. Won't you give me the opportunity ? 
 
 Mrs. Glover (outside r.). Never mind, Mr. Simp- 
 kins. She's probably in the store. 
 
 Helen. Ihere's mother coming. Perhaps you'd 
 better ask her. 
 
 (Winston makes a gesture of vexation, and crosses l.) 
 
 (Enter Mrs. Glover, r.) 
 
 Mrs. Glover. I have been looking for you, daugh- 
 ter. I have something to say to you. 
 
 (^Conies down to r. of Helen.) 
 
 Helen (slightly vexed). Well, you were with me 
 all afternoon. Why didn't you tell me? 
 
 Winston (aside). Good-night! 
 
 Mrs. Glover. I didn't think it best to tell you then, 
 
 and (To Winston.) I am quite thirsty, Mr. 
 
 Winston. Would you mind bringing me a glass of 
 water ? 
 
 Winston. Vv'ith pleasure. 
 
 (He starts toward bucket up l.) 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Oh, I trust you won't mind drawing 
 a bucket of fresh water, Mr. Winston. 
 Winston (taking bucket). No indeed. 
 
 (Exit, R.) 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Now, daughter, a word with you 
 while that odious creature is gone. 
 
 Helen. He is not an odious creature. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Indeed ! I can't see a single thing 
 about him to attract one. 
 
 Helen. He has a strong face. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Tush ! What does a man's face 
 amount to? I want you to give Mr. Fudgetop a defi- 
 nite answer v/ithout delay, and I want that answer to 
 be yes. 
 
 Helen. It won't be yes, but I'll make it definite 
 enough. What is there to him ? Nothing. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 53 
 
 ]\Irs. Glover. Indeed ! He is quite good looking. 
 
 Helen. Tush! What does a man's face amount 
 to? 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Such nonsense. 
 
 Helen. I was only quoting your own answer to 
 that very question. 
 
 FuDGETOP (rushing in r., glances about, sees Mrs. 
 Glover and Helen, and dashes dozvn r. between 
 them). I must see you tw^o alone at once. Where's 
 Winston ? 
 
 Mrs. Glover. I got rid of him by sending him for 
 a bucket of water. W^hat is the matter? 
 
 FuDGETOP. That fellow is a desperado. 
 
 Helen. Who ? 
 
 FuDGETOP. Winston. 
 
 Helen. Absurd! I don't believe it. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. I knew it all the time. (To Helen.) 
 Hush, daughter, you don't know what you are talking 
 about. Let Mr. Fudgetop finish. (To Fudgetop.) 
 Go ahead, Mr. Fudgetop. 
 
 Fudgetop. I just found out a little while ago that 
 he is a criminal who ought to be in the penitentiary. 
 I am going to arrest him and put him behind the bars. 
 I v/anted to warn you so there would be no embarrass- 
 ment when I arrest him. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. And you are going to arrest that 
 dangerous man? You are a real hero. But you must 
 not let him hurt you. 
 
 Fudgetop. Oh, I shan't. 
 
 Helen. I don't believe for one minute that ^Ir. 
 W^inston is a criminal. 
 
 Fudgetop. Well, he is, all right. And will you 
 marry me when I prove myself a real hero ? 
 
 Helen. I'll consider it. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. That's a dear. 
 
 Fudgetop. Isn't she a darling? And she'll soon 
 be my wife. 
 
 Helen. I don't think there's much danger of it. 
 
 Winston (outside r.). Better look out. Bub. 
 That gun'll go off and scatter your head all over 
 Henry's farm. 
 
54 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 FuDGETOP. ^ There he comes now. I'll hide behind 
 the counter and surprise him. 
 
 Helen. Yes, hide. Real heroes always hide. 
 FuDGETOP. Don't let him know I'm here. 
 
 {Dashes behind counter, l.) 
 
 {Enter Winston, r.) 
 
 Winston. I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, 
 Mrs. Glover, but I waited long enough to draw a 
 bucket for Jerusha. 
 
 Mrs. Glover {as Winston sets bucket down, up u, 
 and starts tozvard her with glass). You have returned 
 in good time. {She takes glass.) 
 
 FuDGETOP {rising from behind counter and point- 
 ing revolver at Winston). Throw tip your hands. 
 
 Winston {pausing up c.). What in thunder? 
 What is this, anyway — a motion picture drama? 
 
 FuDGETOP. Put up your hands, or you'll think it's 
 a funeral. Don't trifle with me. 
 
 Winston {holding up his hands). I don't particu- 
 larly like the joke, v/hatever it is. Would you mind 
 explaining? 
 
 FuDGETOP. As if you needed an explanation — a 
 criminal of your stamp ! 
 
 Winston. Criminal? 
 
 {Takes step tozvard Fudgetop.) 
 
 FuDGETOP. Stop! (Winston .?^o/>^.) 
 Winston. Well, I hardly know what to do. I 
 ought to take that gun away from you and spank you, 
 but that would hardly be fair play. I guess I'll just 
 go outside and cool off a bit. 
 
 {Drops hands and starts toward door R.) 
 
 Fudgetop. Don't go. I'll shoot. 
 Winston {over his shoidder). Cut loose. 
 
 {Enter Bub, r.) 
 
 Bub {leveling shotgun at Winston). No y'u don't ! 
 Halt! Hands up! (Winston raises hands.) 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 55 
 
 (Mrs. Glover and Helen cross to L.) 
 Winston. Well, I'll be jiggered! 
 {Enter Jerusha, r., and advances to r. of Bub.) 
 
 Jerusha. Bub Perkins, where air y'u goin' with 
 that gun? (Halts in amazement.) What on airth is 
 a-goin' on here? 
 
 FuDGETOP. I have just found out, Mrs. Simpkins, 
 that this man {pointing to Winston) is a desperado. 
 I felt it my duty to arrest him. 
 
 Winston. Desperado ! Why, I'm no more of a 
 desperado than you are, you blithering idiot. 
 
 Jerusha. I bet he is. I knowed it all 'long. All 
 his talk 'bout bein' a artist was put on. Th' idee o' 
 him a-bein' a artist an' a-paintin' picters ! No won- 
 der he was a-kissin' Tildy. 
 
 Helen. An artist? How romantic! Oh, Mr. 
 Winston, why didn't you tell me you were an artist ? 
 
 Winston {up c). I had intended to tell you 
 to-day. 
 
 Helen. Well, I don't believe you are a desperado. 
 
 Winston. Thank you. I'm glad somebody around 
 here has a little sense. {Turning to Fudgetop.) I 
 don't know who is responsible for this, but somebody 
 will sweat when this is straightened out. 
 
 Mrs. Glover {down l.). My, how boldly he talks! 
 
 {Enter Tildy, r. Pauses.) 
 
 Tildy. Laws-a-me, Mr. Winston, what air they 
 a-doin' to y'u? {Goes to r. of Winston.) 
 
 Jerusha. Shut up yer snivelin', Tildy. That there 
 man's a despyrado. 
 
 Tildy. He ain't, neither. That there dressed up 
 gal is th' cause o' all this. {Points to Helen.) 
 
 {Enter Henry, r.) 
 
 Henry. What in tarnation thunder is a-goin' on 
 here ? 
 
 Fudgetop. Mr. Simpkins, you are the very man 
 we want. Please call the sheriff and tell him to come 
 
56 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 at once. I have captured the desperado he has been 
 wanting for months. 
 
 Henry. I'm a-goin' right now. (Dashes out R.) 
 
 Winston 
 
 TiLDY 
 
 Bub Fudgetop 
 
 Jerusha Mrs. Glover 
 
 Helen 
 
 curtain 
 
ACT III 
 
 Scene. — Same as Act II. 
 
 {Curiam discloses Winston lying on blanket in front 
 of counter down l. and Fudgetop, sitting, yawning, 
 in chair down c, facing Winston. Another chair 
 up c. Barrel and boxes removed.) 
 
 Fudgetop. Bah Jove, I wish that deuced sheriff 
 would get here. I don't fancy sitting up all night to 
 guard a desperado. It's quite a strain for one unused 
 to such low work, don't you know. 
 
 Winston. No doubt it is quite a strain. Why 
 don't you go to bed? I told you I would be here when 
 the sheriff came. 
 
 Fudgetop. Fancy taking the word of a desperado. 
 It would be quite romantic, wouldn't it? But I am 
 too wise a bird to be caught so easil}^ 
 
 Winston. You may think you're a bird now, but 
 before long you'll know you are a sucker. 
 
 Fudgetop. I'm getting thirsty, fellow. Step over 
 there to the bucket {pointing with revolver to zvater 
 bucket on counter up l.) and bring me a drink. 
 
 Winston {rising). I ought to spank you for that 
 insult, but I'll wait until this affair is over and I can 
 have a real laugh at your expense. 
 
 {Goes to bucket and returns zvith drink for Fudgetop.) 
 
 Fudgetop {after taking drink). I feel better now. 
 That bally sheriff surely will be here in a few minutes. 
 It's about daylight. 
 
 {Starts to hand Winston dipper and Winston grabs 
 revolver instead. Fudgetop rises.) 
 
 Winston. This is c^uite a pretty little plaything. 
 Is it loaded? 
 
 57 
 
58 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 FuDGETOP. Y-es. Be careful how you handle it. 
 
 Winston. What will you give me not to shoot 
 you ? 
 
 FuDGETOP. Bah Jove, old chap, you surely wouldn't 
 shoot me. Think how nicely I have treated you as a 
 prisoner. 
 
 Winston. Yes. I don't know when I have slept 
 as soundly as I did on that soft floor. 
 
 FuDGETOP. But I might have tied you, don't you 
 know. 
 
 Winston. So you might. Well, just for that, FU 
 return this gun. But be careful how you handle it. 
 
 {Returns revolver, takes dipper from Fudgetop, puis 
 it on counter, goes to blanket and sits down with 
 back against counter. Humming tune, takes out 
 pipe, fills it, and lights it. Fudgetop sits and nods 
 drowsily. ) 
 
 Mrs. Glover {outside r., pounding on door). May 
 I come in, Mr. Fudgetop? 
 
 Fudgetop {starting from his sleep and pointing re- 
 volver at Winston). Halt. Don't you try to get 
 away. 
 
 Winston {laughing). Great Csesar, man, you don't 
 think I am going to vanish in smoke, do you ? 
 
 Mrs. Glover {outside r.). Let m.e in, Mr. Fudge- 
 top. 
 
 Fudgetop {rising and unlocking door). Certainly, 
 Mrs. Glover. 
 
 {Enter Mrs. Glover, r. She comes down c. zvith 
 Fudgetop.) 
 
 Mrs. Glover. I didn't know whether I should be 
 welcome. I am not familiar with procedure in prisons. 
 Why, Mr. Fudgetop, how weary you look. Really, 
 the strain must have been terrible. 
 
 Fudgetop {placing chair betzveen his choir and 
 Winston. Mrs. Glover sits). Indeed, the strain 
 has been rather severe, but I kept in mind the fact 
 that I was doing the community a great service. 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 59 
 
 Winston. Call it a service if you like, but it 
 sounded more like snoring to me. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Oh, Mr. Fudgetop, can't you make 
 the fellow remain silent? I can't endure hearing the 
 despicable creature speak. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Certainly, Mrs, Glover. (To Win- 
 ston.) Fellow, silence! 
 
 Mrs. Glover. How really commanding you are ! 
 I do wish Helen could appreciate you as I do. But 
 the dear child is so young. 
 
 FuDGETOP. What does — does Miss Helen think of 
 me now? 
 
 ]\Irs. Glover {sorrowfully). She laughs whenever 
 I mention you. (Winston grins.) 
 
 FuDGETOP. Laughs! Dear me! She'll feel dif- 
 ferent when this is over. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Fm sure she will. (Rises.) I must 
 be going, Mr. Fudgetop. I merely dropped in to as- 
 sure myself that you were all right. Don't feel too 
 provoked at my daughter. Remember she is so young. 
 
 Fudgetop. I shall have patience, my dear Mrs. 
 Glover. 
 
 (Exit Mrs. Glover, r. She is no more than out 
 the door when Fudgetop falls asleep and begins to 
 snore. Enter Tildy, r.) 
 
 TiLDY. Laws-a-me, Mr. Winston, how uncom- 
 fortabF y'u look I (Comes down l. to Winston.) 
 
 Winston. Uncomfortable ! Why, Tildy, I never 
 felt better in my life. 
 
 Tildy (pointing to Fudgetop). He won't hurt me 
 fer a-comin' in, will he? 
 
 Winston. Certainly not. Don't wake him up. He 
 wouldn't hurt anybody for anything. 
 
 Tildy (hashfidly) . Say, Mr. Winston. I ain't never 
 b'lieved a word 'bout y'u bein' a feller what th' sheriff 
 vv-anted. Fd like powerful well to he'p y'u. Ain't 
 they somethin' I kin do to git y'u loose? 
 
 Winston Why, Tildy! You say you don't be- 
 lieve Fm guilty, but you want me to run away. 
 
 Tildy. Them others don't b'lieve in y'u like I do. 
 
60 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Winston. Mighty kind of you, Tildy; but you'd 
 better run along now and help Jerusha with the break- 
 fast. You mustn't think of me any more. 
 
 Tildy (beginning to cry). So y're a-sendin' me 
 away. 
 
 VViNSTON. Tildy, will you do something for me ? 
 
 Tildy (delighted). Oh, Mr. Winston! 
 
 Winston. Thank you. Run down to my cabin 
 and bring me the portfolio that's lying on the couch. 
 
 Tildy. All right, Mr. Winston. I'll go right 
 away. (Runs out r.) 
 
 FuDGETOP (suddenly waking and pointing revolver 
 at Winston). Halt. Don't attempt to escape. 
 
 Winston. That's the second time you've got ex- 
 cited and pointed that gun at me. Don't handle the 
 blooming thing so carelessly. It's apt to go off. 
 
 (Enter Bub, r.) 
 
 Bub. Haw, haw, haw ! I got y'u now. I knowed 
 I'd git even with y'u. 
 
 (Comes down to r. of Fudgetop.) 
 
 FuDGETOP. You got him? What do you mean, 
 boy, by talking like that ? I was the one who got him. 
 
 Bub. I reckon I stopped him when he wuz a-gittin' 
 away, didn' I ? 
 
 Winston. Great Christopher, gentlemen, don't 
 fight now over the honor of getting me. Maybe you'll 
 both want to dodge it after while. Now, what does 
 this whole business mean? 
 
 Fudgetop. You will know all in due time. 
 
 Bub. Yep. I 'low th' jedge'U tell y'u. Haw, haw, 
 haw ! 
 
 Winston. Well, I hope he knows more than you 
 two. 
 
 (Enter Helen, r.) 
 
 Helen. Ah, good -morning, Mr. Fudgetop. 
 (Fudgetop and Winston rise.) How glad I am to 
 see you are safe. (She comes down l. c.) 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 6 1 
 
 '(FuDGETOP and Winston are surprised, the former 
 agreeably, the latter disagreeably.) 
 
 FuDGETOP. Thanks, awfully, Miss Helen. You 
 really — ah — surprise me. Indeed, you do. 
 
 Helen (niysterioiisiy moiioning to Winston as 
 FuDGETOP looks important). You must be quite tired 
 with your all night vigil, Mr. Fudgetop. 
 
 FuDGETOP. I am deuced tired, don't you know. 
 It is quite a strain to keep one's eye all night long on a 
 desperate criminal. 
 
 Helen. I should think so. Is there anything I 
 can do? 
 
 Fudgetop. Nothing, thank you. Miss Helen. 
 
 Helen. A little fresh air would help you wonder- 
 fully. Perhaps— perhaps I could remain on guard for 
 you while you step outside and get a breath of fresh 
 air. The air really is quite bracing this morning. 
 
 Fudgetop. How kind of you ! But what if my— 
 our prisoner should attempt to escape? 
 
 Helen. You could leave your .revolver with me. 
 You know I'm used to a revolver. 
 
 Bub. I bet I wouldn't trust her, ner no other gal. 
 
 Fudgetop. Sir, how dare you criticize Miss Glover ? 
 You may go at once. 
 
 Bub. All right, I'll go, but I 'low y'u better take 
 my advice. 
 
 {Exit Bub, r.) 
 
 Fudgetop. Just to show that country bumpkin 
 what a chump he is, I'll accept your suggestion. Here 
 is my revolver. {Hands Helen revolver.) I won't 
 be gone but a minute. 
 
 {Exit, R.) 
 
 Helen {advancing to Winston and offering him 
 revolver). We haven't a minute to spare. Here, 
 take this gun. Please go at once. 
 
 Winston. What? Why, just now you were 
 praising Mr. Fudgetop for his 'wonderful valor, and 
 now you are offering me a chance to escape. I can 
 hardly understand. 
 
62 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Helen. Oh,^ you stupid. I don't believe his story 
 for a minute. Why don't you go? 
 
 Winston. Miss Glover — Helen. {Goes close to 
 her.) So you trust me, in spite of everything? 
 
 Helen. Yes. 
 
 Winston (taking her hand). Why, this is wonder- 
 ful. You don't even know who I am. 
 
 Helen. I know you couldn't do anything wrong. 
 I would trust you with anything I have. 
 
 Winston. With your heart, my dear? 
 
 Helen. Yes. (Winston tries to embrace her, but 
 she holds him away.) But how foolish you are. Every 
 moment is precious. 
 
 Winston. Every moment with you, yes. 
 
 Helen. You know I didn't mean that. You must 
 escape. Go ! Go ! 
 
 Winston. But what would they think of you? 
 
 Helen. Don't think of me. Go; please go. 
 
 Winston. Helen, you're a darhng — but I can't do 
 it for two reasons. The first is that I mustn't com- 
 promise you, and the second is that I'm no more a 
 desperado than you are. 
 
 Helen. But Mr. Fudgetop thinks he has informa- 
 tion. He is sure to make trouble for you. 
 
 Winston. He's sadly mistaken, and he's going to 
 look very foolish before this is over. 
 
 Helen (disappointed). Then you won't go? 
 
 Winston. No, dear girl. It would spoil a good 
 joke. 
 
 (Enter Fudgetop, r., hurriedly.) 
 
 Fudgetop. I was afraid he had killed you. (Comes 
 dozvn R. of Helen, who hands him revolver.) Deuce 
 take it. Miss Helen, I suffered the most excruciating 
 anguish when I realized that I had left you air alone 
 with a desperado. 
 
 Helen. Oh, is he a desperado? 
 
 Fudgetop. Desperado ! Oh, I see. Good joke, 
 ha, ha, ha ! Making light of your own heroism. Miss 
 Helen, you are a dear. 
 
 Helen. Never mind what I am. You'll have 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 63 
 
 enough in a little while trying to figure out what )-ou 
 have been. 
 
 FuDGETOp. Bah Jove, I don't get you. 
 
 Winston. No, and you are not likely to get her, 
 either. 
 
 {Sound of auto horn is heard off r.) 
 
 Helen. I hear a machine. Perhaps it's the sheriff. 
 Winston. I hope it is. 
 FuDGETop. Why ? 
 
 Winston. Because Fd rather be alone in a cell 
 than free in a room with you. 
 
 (Bub, followed by Sheriff, Henry and Jerusiia, 
 enters, r.) 
 
 Bub (pointing to Winston). Thar he is, shuriff. 
 That's him. 
 
 (Sheriff advances down c, zvith Bub, Jerusha and 
 Henry. Jerusha and Henry down r. Bub and 
 Sheriff r. c. Fudgetop c Helen l. c. Win- 
 ston L., leaning against the counter.) 
 
 Sheriff. All right. What's th' charge agin him? 
 
 Fudgetop (surprised). Wh-at? Why? 
 
 Sheriff. Wh-at? Why? 'Cause they's got to be 
 a charge agin a man afore he kin be arrested. What's 
 th' charge agin him? 
 
 Fudgetop. Why, he's a moonshiner and a thief 
 and an embezzler and a murderer and 
 
 Sheriff. Oh, is that all? Anything else? 
 
 Fudgetop (surprised). No, nothing else that I can 
 think of now. 
 
 Sheriff. Whar'd he do all this here crooked work ? 
 
 Fudgetop. Over on Goose Creek. 
 
 Sheriff. When'd it all happen? I been shuriff 
 here four years, an' lived in th' county all m' life, an' 
 I am't never heerd o' nothin' like that over on Goose 
 Crick. (Crosses to l. of Winston.) 
 
 Henry. I never heerd o' nothin' like that, neither. 
 They's somethin' wrong. An' I never did think Mr. 
 Winston was no murderer. 
 
64 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 Jerusha. Lots you know 'bout it, I reckon, Henry 
 Simpkins. Th' feller thet sold y'u that gold brick 
 weren't no swindler, neither, was he? Th' feller y'u 
 bought them lightnin' rods of weren't no rascal neither, 
 was he? Mr. Fudgeflop says that Mr. Winston is all 
 them things, an' he ort to know. Jus' keep yer mouth 
 shut. 
 
 Henry. All right, Jerushy, all right. I reckon y'u 
 know best. 
 
 {Enter Mrs. Glover, r.) 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Dear me! Isn't that dreadful man 
 taken away yet? {Comes r. c. to Fudgetop.) 
 
 Helen {to her mother). No, he isn't, and he won't 
 be if I can help it, eidier. {To Sheriff.) Mr. 
 Sheriff, that man is no criminal, and you have nothing 
 against him. There must be some mistake. Why 
 not release him? 
 
 Sheriff. Thunderation ! I'm all balled up. This 
 here feller {pointing to Fudgetop) says this here feller 
 {pointing to Winston) was powerful mean over on 
 Goose Crick. I don' know nothin' 'bout no meanness 
 over thar, an' Henry here don't neither. But I ain't 
 a-goin' to ack too rash like. {Turns to Fudgetop.) 
 Whar'd y'u git yer dope 'bout this here feller bein' a 
 murderer an' all them things? 
 
 Fudgetop. I gave a sacred promise not to reveal 
 the gentleman's identity. 
 
 Sheriff {blankly). Y'u done what? 
 
 Fudgetop. I promised not to tell who told me. 
 
 Sheriff. Wal, thet bein' th' case, I promise not to 
 take this here feller to jail. {To Winston.) Mister, 
 y'u kin go whenever y'u git ready. 
 
 Fudgetop. Hold on. I'll tell. 
 
 Sheriff {to V/inston). Wait a minute. Mebbe 
 I'll want y'u. (To Fudgetop.) All right, cut loose. 
 
 Fudgetop. My informant was Mr. James Dobbs. 
 
 Henry. Well, I'll be 
 
 Sheriff. What! Lyin' Jim Dobbs? What d' 
 y'u think o' thet, Henry? Th' idee o' holdin' a feller 
 here all night jus' 'cause Jim Dobbs spun one o' his 
 
AN INNOCENT DESPhRADO 65 
 
 yarns. {To Winston.) Now I know fer sure, 
 mister, y'u kin go. 
 
 {Enter Jim, r. Comes down c.) 
 
 Jim. Howdy, folks. What's all this here excite- 
 ment 'bout? 
 
 Sheriff. Oh, nothin' much. Jus' one more o' yer 
 funny lies, Jim. 
 
 Jim. Tarnation, shuriff, what air y'u talkin' 'bout? 
 
 Sheriff. Didn' y'u tell this here feller {pointing 
 to FuDGETOP) that this here feller {pointing to Win- 
 ston) wuz a murderer an' a lot more things worse'n 
 thet? An' warn't all y'u told a lie from beginnin' to 
 endin' ? 
 
 Jim. Shore. I wuz jus' jokin'. This here feller 
 {pointing to Fudgetop) wuz a-lookin' fer excitement, 
 an' I jus' spun a yarn fer him. 
 
 Sheriff {to Fudgetop). There y'u are. Mr. 
 Winston is no more a robber and murderer than you 
 are. 
 
 Fudgetop. How do you know his name's Win- 
 ston? He has been posing here as an artist, and he 
 told me he's a business man. I demand that he be 
 held on suspicion. 
 
 FIelen. Of course he's an artist. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. I was led to believe he is a banker. 
 
 {Enter Tildy, r. She runs down l. to Winston, and 
 hands him portfolio.) 
 
 Winston. Thank you, Tildy. You're just in time. 
 {He crosses r. to Mrs. Glover and hands her port- 
 folio.) Mrs. Glover, I owe you an apology. I told 
 Mrs. Simpkins not to say I was an artist, as I did not 
 wish my work interrupted. Look through this port- 
 folio. You'll find my sketches there, and some letters. 
 
 (Mrs. Glover opens portfolio.) 
 
 Tildy {crossing r.). There's a fine picter of me 
 there. 
 
 Bub. Then I'll bet it's a pretty picter. 
 
66 AN INNOCENT DESPERADO 
 
 TiLDY {pleased). Why, Bub, do you think I'm 
 pretty ? 
 
 (Bub and Tildy talk together, evidently on good 
 terms. ) 
 
 Mrs. Glover (holding up letter). Why, here's a 
 letter from my brother Will. {To Winston.) Do 
 you know him? 
 
 Winston. What — Billy McBride? I should say 
 so. He has the studio next to mine in Chicago. 
 
 Mrs. Glover. Oh, are you Hal Winston? I've 
 seen your pictures often. What a dreadful mistake. 
 Please forgive me. 
 
 {Goes L. to Winston and offers hand.) 
 
 Winston {taking her hand). My dear Mrs. 
 Glover, there is nothing to forgive. {Smiles.) You 
 have provided the best joke I ever knew. 
 
 FuDGETOP. Yes, bah Jove. And it's all on me. 
 
 Winston. Old man, you shall be best man at our 
 wedding. 
 
 All. Wedding ! 
 
 Winston. Yes. {Takes Helen's hand.) This 
 little girl stood by me in trouble, and {to Mrs. 
 Glover) I'd like to stand by her all my life. 
 
 BuB. I wanter state the feud's all off. 
 
 {Puts arm around Tildy.) 
 
 Mrs. Glover {smiling). Oh, dear! So you are 
 going to take my little girl from me. Then you are a 
 desperate robber, after all. 
 
 Winston. Yes — an innocent desperado. 
 
 Jim Fudgetop Helen 
 
 Tildy Winston 
 
 Bub Mrs. Glover 
 
 Henry Sheriff 
 
 Jerusha 
 
 curtain 
 
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 THE DISTRICT CONVENTION. A Farcical Sketch 
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 Read One or More of These Before Deciding on 
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 JONES VS. JINKS. A Mock Trial in One Act, by 
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