Short Plays

now. You daren’t take her word against mine. She never had a child: I can see it in her face. Feemy Stung to the quick. I can hang him in spite of you, anyhow. Much good your child is to you now, lying there on Pug Jackson’s bench! Blanco Rushing at her with a shriek. I’ll twist your heart out of you for that. They seize him before he can reach her. Feemy Mocking at him as he struggles to get at her. Ha, ha, Blanco Posnet. You can’t touch me; and I can hang you. Ha, ha! Oh, I’ll do for you. I’ll twist your heart and I’ll twist your neck. He is dragged back to the bar and leans on it, gasping and exhausted. Give me the oath again, Elder. I’ll settle him. And do you to the Woman take your sickly face away from in front of me. Strapper Just turn your back on her there, will you? The Woman God knows I don’t want to see her commit murder. She folds her shawl over her head. The Sheriff Now, Miss Evans: cut it short. Was the prisoner the man you saw this morning or was he not? Yes or no? Feemy A little hysterically. I’ll tell you fast enough. Don’t think I’m a softy. The Sheriff Losing patience. Here: we’ve had enough of this. You tell the truth, Feemy Evans; and let us have no more of your lip. Was the prisoner the man or was he not? On your oath? Feemy On my oath and as I’m a living woman⁠—Flinching. Oh God! he felt the little child’s hands on his neck⁠—I can’t⁠—Bursting into a flood of tears and scolding at the other woman. It’s you with your snivelling face that has put me off it. Desperately. No: it wasn’t him. I only said it out of spite because he insulted me. May I be struck dead if I ever saw him with the horse! Everybody draws a long breath. Dead silence. Blanco Whispering at her. Softy! Crybaby! Landed like me! Doing what you never intended! Taking up his hat and speaking in his ordinary tone. I presume I may go now, Sheriff. Strapper Here, hold hard. The Foreman Not if we know it, you don’t. The Boys Barring the way to the door. You stay where you are. Stop a bit, stop a bit. Don’t you be in such a hurry. Don’t let him go. Not much. Blanco stands motionless, his eye fixed, thinking hard, and apparently deaf to what is going on. The Sheriff Rising solemnly. Silence there. Wait a bit. I take it that if the Sheriff is satisfied and the owner of the horse is satisfied, there’s no more to be said. I have had to remark on former occasions that what is wrong with this court is that there’s too many Sheriffs in it. Today there is going to be one, and only one; and that one is your humble servant. I call that to the notice of the Foreman of the jury, and also to the notice of young Strapper. I am also the owner of the horse. Does any man say that I am not? Silence. Very well, then. In my opinion, to commandeer a horse for the purpose of getting a dying child to a doctor is not stealing, provided, as in the present case, that the horse is returned safe and sound. I rule that there has been no theft. Nestor That ain’t the law. The Sheriff I fine you a dollar for contempt of court, and will collect it myself off you as you leave the building. And as the boys have been disappointed of their natural sport, I shall give them a little fun by standing outside the door and taking up a collection for the bereaved mother of the late kid that showed up Blanco Posnet. The Boys A collection. Oh, I say! Calls that sport? Is this a mothers’ meeting? Well, I’ll be jiggered! Where does the sport come in? The Sheriff Continuing. The sport comes in, my friends, not so much in contributing as in seeing others fork out. Thus each contributes to the general enjoyment; and all contribute to his. Blanco Posnet: you go free under the protection of the Vigilance Committee for just long enough to get you out of this town, which is not a healthy place for you. As you are in a hurry, I’ll sell you the horse at a reasonable figure. Now, boys, let nobody go out till I get to the door. The court is adjourned. He goes out. Strapper To Feemy, as he goes to the door. I’m done with you. Do you hear? I’m done with you. He goes out sulkily. Feemy Calling after him. As if I cared about a stingy brat like you! Go back to the freckled maypole you left for me: you’ve been fretting for her long enough. The Foreman To Blanco, on his way out. A man like you makes me sick. Just sick. Blanco makes no sign. The Foreman spits disgustedly, and follows Strapper out. The Jurymen leave the box, except Nestor, who collapses in a drunken sleep. Blanco Suddenly rushing from the bar to the table and jumping up on it. Boys, I’m going to preach you a sermon on the moral of this day’s proceedings. The Boys Crowding round him. Yes: let’s have a sermon. Go ahead, Blanco. Silence for Elder Blanco. Tune the organ. Let us pray. Nestor Staggering out of his sleep. Never hold up your head in this town again. I’m done with you. Blanco Pointing inexorably to Nestor. Drunk in church. Disturbing the preacher. Hand him out. The Boys Chivying Nestor out. Now, Nestor, outside. Outside, Nestor. Out you go. Get your subscription ready for the Sheriff. Skiddoo, Nestor. Nestor Afraid to be hanged! Afraid to be hanged!