HORACE. Mr. Pike!
PIKE [apparently not hearing him, hammering at a bolt-head with a monkey-wrench and singing].
"One lies down at Appomattox--"
HORACE [sharply]. Mr. Pike! Mr. Pike, I wish a word with you.
PIKE [looks up mildly]. Hum!
[He moves to the other side of the engine, rubbing handle of monkey-wrench across his chin as if puzzled.]
HORACE. I wish to tell you that the surprise of this morning so upset me that I went for a long walk. I have just returned.
PIKE [regarding the machine intently, sings softly].
"One wore clothes of gray--."
[Then he whistles the air. Throughout this interview he maintains almost constantly an air of absorption in his work and continues to whistle and sing softly.]
HORACE [continuing]. I have been even more upset by what I have just learned from my sister.
PIKE [absently]. Why, that"s too bad.
HORACE. It _is_ too bad--absurdly--monstrously bad! She tells me that she has done you the honor to present you to the family with which we are forming an alliance--to the Earl of Hawcastle--her fiance"s father--
PIKE [with cheerful absent-mindedness--working]. Yes, sir!
HORACE [continuing]. To her fiance"s aunt, Lady Creech--
PIKE. Yes, sir! the whole possetucky of them. [Singing softly.] "She was my hanky-panky-danky from the town of Kalamazack!" Yes, sir--that French lady, too.
[He throws a quick, keen glance at HORACE, then instantly appears absorbed in work again, singing,]
"She ran away with a circus clown--she never did come back--Oh, Solomon Levi!"
[Continues to whistle the tune softly.]
HORACE. And she introduced you to her fiance--to Mr. St. Aubyn himself.
PIKE [looking up, monkey-wrench in hand]. Yes, sir [chuckles]; _we_ had quite a talk about shootin" in Indiana; said he"d heard of Peru, in his school history. Wanted to come out some day, he said, and asked what our best game was. I told him we had some Incas still preserved in the mountains of Indiana, and he said he"d like a good Inca head to put up in his gun-room. He _ought_ to get one, _oughtn"t_ he?
[Starts to work again, busily.]
HORACE [indignantly]. My sister informs me that in spite of Lord Hawcastle"s most graciously offering to discuss her engagement with you, you refused.
PIKE. Well, I didn"t see any need of it.
HORACE. Furthermore, you allege that you will decline to go into the matter with Lord Hawcastle"s solicitor.
PIKE. What matter?
HORACE [angrily]. The matter of the settlement.
PIKE [quietly]. Your sister kind of let it out to me awhile ago that you think a good deal of this French widow lady. Suppose you make up your mind to take her for richer or poorer--what"s _she_ going to give _you_?
HORACE [roaring]. Nothing! What do you mean?
PIKE. Well, I thought you"d probably charge her [with a slight drawl] a _little_, anyhow. Ain"t that the way over here?
[Turns to work again, humming "Dolly Gray."]
HORACE. It is impossible for you to understand the motives of my sister and myself in our struggle _not_ to remain in the vulgar herd. But can"t you try to comprehend that there is an Old-World society, based not on wealth, but on that indescribable something which comes of ancient lineage and high birth? [With great indignation.] You presume to interfere between us and the fine flower of Europe!
PIKE [straightening up, but speaking quietly]. Well, I don"t know as the folks around Kokomo would ever have spoke of your father as a "fine flower," but we thought a heap of him, and when he married your ma he was so glad to get her--well, I never heard yet that he asked for any _settlement_!
HORACE. You are quite impossible.
PIKE. The fact is, when she took him he was a poor man; but if he"d a had seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, I"ll bet he"d "a" given it for her.
[Starts to hammer vigorously, humming "Dolly Gray."]
HORACE. There is no profit in continuing the discussion.
[Turns on his heel, but immediately turns again toward PIKE, who is apparently preoccupied.]
And I warn you we shall act without paying the slightest attention to you. [Triumphantly.] What have you to say to that, sir?
[PIKE"S answer is conveyed by the motor-horn, which says: "Honk! Honk!"
HORACE throws up his hands despairingly. PIKE"S voice becomes audible in the last words of the song: "Good-bye, Dolly Gray."]
[Enter LADY CREECH and ALMERIC through the gates.]
HORACE [meeting them]. The fellow is hopeless.
LADY CREECH [not hearing, and speaking from habit, automatically].
Dreadful person!
[PIKE continues his work, paying no attention.]
ALMERIC [to HORACE]. Better let him alone till the Governor"s had time to think a bit. Governor"s clever. He"ll fetch the beggar about somehow.
LADY CREECH [with a Parthian glance at the unconscious PIKE]. I sha"h"t stop in the creature"s presence--I shall go up to my room for my forty winks.
[Exit into the hotel.]
ALMERIC [as she goes out]. Day-day, aunt! [To HORACE.] I"m off to look at that pup again. You trust the Governor.
HORACE [as ALMERIC goes]. I do, I do. It is insufferable, but I"ll wait.