The Drone Part 17

MARY. Do you think you'd get more than one thousand pounds for it?

DANIEL (_looking out of window and seeing someone approaching_). Don't know, Mary. Don't know. Very hard to know these things. Where could that screw driver be I wonder?

MARY. I think I saw father working with it last at something in the parlour. Will I get it for you, Uncle Dan? (_Knocking at door._)

DANIEL. No. Never mind, Mary. I'll get it myself. There's someone at the door. You better open the door, Mary. (_He goes off hurriedly to parlour._) (_Knocking at yard door._) Come in. (DONAL MACKENZIE _opens the door and comes in._)

MACKENZIE. Fine afternoon, Miss Murray.

MARY (_coldly_). Good day to you.

MACKENZIE. I'm going off to Scotland verra soon, and I thought I would call over to see you before I went off. You're no angry, are you?

MARY. No. (MACKENZIE _seats himself at the table._)

MACKENZIE. Did you get a post card?

MARY. I got some silly thing this morning that I tore up.

MACKENZIE. I'm sorry. I'm verra fond of you, Mary.

MARY. Miss Murray, please.

MACKENZIE. A girl like you is lost here, you know. Now, if you were a Scotch la.s.sie you would have a great time enjoying yourself. In a place like Greenock we have a theatre, and we have a music hall and a cinematograph show on Sat.u.r.days and trains to Glasgow. You could have a grand time in Scotland.

MARY. Do you really like me, Mr. Mackenzie?

MACKENZIE. Verra much. Indeed I--

MARY. Well. Look here. I would like you very, very much too, if you----

MACKENZIE. If I what, bonnie Mary?

MARY. I'd even let you call me Mary, and write to me if you wanted to, if you would do me a favour.

MACKENZIE. What's the favour?

MARY. Uncle Dan has brought home his fan bellows, and it works.

MACKENZIE (_laughs_). The fan bellows! I think he'll never make much of a fortune of his fan bellows.

MARY. Do you ever examine new inventions?

MACKENZIE. Aye. I'm a specialist on that, you know. I'm the writer of the inventions column in the Scottish----

MARY. Yes. Yes. That's all right. I know. Are all the inventions you write about good things?

MACKENZIE. Eh? Ninety-nine per cent. rotten, la.s.sie. Ninety-nine per cent. perfectly rotten. People don't invent a reciprocating piston that works every day in the week, or a fan bellows either.

MARY. But if you liked the inventor you could do him a good turn all the same?

MACKENZIE. Aye. I did that often.

MARY. Then could you do a good turn for Uncle Dan?

MACKENZIE. Give the bellows a boost up. No, Mary. I could nae. I don't like to grieve you, but committing perjury--No. I couldn't do it, Mary.

MARY (_coming closer_). Yes. You would. You'd do it for me. Won't you?

MACKENZIE. Eh?

MARY. Look. Uncle Dan has his new fan bellows in that workshop. Go in and look at it, and if you do like me really, you could tell the McMinns that it was good--even if it wasn't quite perfect.

MACKENZIE (_hesitatingly_). Um. I'll consider the question.

(DANIEL _re-enters. He stops short on seeing_ MACKENZIE, _and seems to become very uncomfortable._)

MARY. Uncle Dan! Mr. Mackenzie's going to examine your bellows.

DANIEL. I don't allow everybody to go and look at it. No. I refuse.

It's my property and no one else's.

MARY. Uncle Dan. (_She looks at him meaningly._) Mr. Mackenzie has promised to give his opinion on it.

DANIEL. It's not protected yet by patent.

MACKENZIE. Andy McMinn is coming over, Mr. Murray. He has got orders from his sister to settle the case for her. Are you going to pay the money?

DANIEL. That is a matter of my own deciding. (MARY _goes over to her uncle and whispers to him._)

MACKENZIE. Verra well. I may go. (_To_ MARY.) I would have done you that good turn, Miss Murray; but there's no enmity between us. And (_lowering his voice_)--I hope you get the best of the McMinns in the bargain. Don't give in, Mr. Murray, easy. Take my tip. I'm from the stables, you know. (_He laughs knowingly._)

MARY. Here's Andy now (_she looks out through the window_), and Alick's with him. (_She opens the door,_ ANDY MCMINN _and_ MCCREADY _enter._ MCCREADY _glances at_ MARY _and_ MACKENZIE, _and goes over sulkily to the fireplace._ ANDY _advances awkwardly towards_ DANIEL.)

DANIEL (_genially_). Good afternoon, Andy.

ANDY. Good afternoon. (_He looks at_ MACKENZIE, _who nods curtly._) I suppose you know I've power to settle the case.

DANIEL. Well, you wrote the letter, and so, in point of law, I think it is you who should look after all this unfortunate business. Believe me, Andy, I sympathise with you. I do indeed. (MARY _and_ MACKENZIE _become absorbed in conversation near the table._ ALICK MCCREADY _stands at the fireplace looking at them and unable to conceal his jealousy, makes sundry odd noises to distract_ MARY'S _attention. She pretends not to hear him._) I have your letter here. (_He searches in his pocket and produces it._) Yes. One thousand pounds. Do you not think that a trifle high?

ANDY. Well. You know we could have as easily claimed two thousand, but we didn't like to break you altogether; so we just said that a thousand would come pretty near it.

MACKENZIE. Mr. Daniel, may I look at the bellows?

MARY. Uncle Dan, I'm sure you won't object. (_She makes a gesture as if asking him to a.s.sent._)

DANIEL (_looking hard at her, and then seeming to understand what she is about_). Yes. Yes. I'll thrash out the matter here with Andy.

(MACKENZIE _goes across into the workshop, followed by_ MARY. MCCREADY _sits down disconsolately at the fireplace and begins to smoke his pipe moodily._) A thousand pounds is impossible. Absolutely out of the question.