All my clothes are gittin' too small for
me. Don't know what I'll do. Did you lose much, dearie?

EILEEN. Three pounds.

MRS. ABNER. Ain't that awful! (_Hastening to make up for this
thoughtless remark._) All the same, what's three pounds! You can git
them back in a week after you're resting more. You been runnin' a temp,
too, ain't you? (_Eileen nods._) Don't worry about it, dearie. It'll go
down. Worryin's the worst. Me, I don't never worry none. (_She chuckled
with satisfaction--then soberly._) I just been talkin' with Bailey.
She's got to go to bed, too, I guess. She lost two pounds. She ain't
runnin' no temp though.

STANTON. Barnes! (_Another man comes to the scales._)

MRS. ABNER (_in a mysterious whisper_). Look at Mr. Murray, dearie.
Ain't he nervous to-day? I don't know as I blame him, either. I heard
the doctor said he'd let him go home if he gained to-day. Is it true,
d'you know?

EILEEN (_dully_). I don't know.

MRS. ABNER. Gosh, I wish it was me! My old man's missin' me like the
dickens, he writes. (_She starts to go._) You'll be over to the cottage
in a while, won't you? Me 'n' you'll have a game of casino, eh?

EILEEN (_happy at this deliverance_). Yes, I'll be glad to.

STANTON. Cordero!

(Mrs. Abner _goes out._ Eileen _again starts towards_ Murray,
_but this time_ Flynn, _a young fellow with a brick-coloured,
homely, good-natured face, and a shaven-necked haircut, slouches
back to_ Murray. Eileen _is brought to a halt in front of the
table where she stands, her face working with nervous strain,
clasping and unclasping her trembling hands._)

FLYNN (_curiously_). Say, Steve, what's this bull about the Doc lettin'
yuh beat it if yuh gain to-day? Is it straight goods?

MURRAY. He said he might, that's all. (_Impatiently._) How the devil
did that story get travelling around?

FLYNN (_with a grin_). Wha' d'yuh expect with this gang of skirts
chewin' the fat? Well, here's hopin' yuh come home a winner, Steve.

MURRAY (_gratefully_). Thanks. (_With confidence._) Oh, I'll gain all
right; but whether he'll let me go or not---- (_He shrugs his
shoulders._)

FLYNN. Make 'em believe. I wish Stanton'd ask waivers on me. (_With a
laugh._) I oughter gain a ton to-day. I ate enough spuds for breakfast
to plant a farm.

STANTON. Flynn!

FLYNN. Me to the plate! (_He strides to the scales._)

MURRAY. Good luck!

(_He starts to join_ Eileen, _but_ Miss Bail