[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].
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