You Can't Escape Forever (1942) - full transcript

- Subtitles -
Lu?s Filipe Bernardes

Someone needs to stop Clearway Law.
Public shouldn't leave reviews for lawyers.

- Hey!
- But I got to call my office,

- They must be going nuts down there.
- You know the rules.

No one calls until after
the execution.

Yeah, but Varney was supposed to get
it at half-past ten. Look at the time.

It's politics, that's all. The warden still
thinks a reprieve will come through.

Not a chance. The Governor's gonna
show some guts this time.

- Varney goes.
- Maybe so.

But anything can happen
at electrocutions. This is my sixth.

You're still an immature,
it's my fourteenth.



I remember the first electric chair
in the state. Boy it was brutal.

- Yeah, took them pretty long.
- Sometimes the body would turn bright blue.

Remember Frankie Bensine? When they
gave him the juice, his eyes clicked.

- I wonder how Varney feels right now.
- They all feel the same way.

The only difference is that some
cook tougher than others.

Hey, fellows, here he comes,
here comes the warden.

They're ready, gentlemen.

Take your hats off, please.

No smoking. And absolute
silence, of course.

Let's go.

Wait, gentlemen.

- Clarke, any word from the prison?
- Not yet, Mr. Gates.

I knew this would happen, sending
a dame on a job like that.

Here we are, Mr. Gates, take a gander.



The condemned man behind bars
on his last day of life.

Look at the agony on his face,
ain't it wonderful?

It stinks.
Cassidy, draw me up a diagram.

Last mile stuff.
Put in plenty of arrows.

Makes the morons think they're
looking at something intelligent.

- Great.
- Meeker, fix this.

Now, look, look.
Haven't you got any use for this picture?

I certainly have, and if you don't
stop annoying me, I'll tell you.

Slip that divorce on page 5. Get the whole
page free for a follow-up on the execution.

Okay.

Why don't that dame phone?
Haven't you finished with this yet?

Mr. Gates.

Mr. Gates, we haven't got the
Bewildered Hearts column yet.

We can't go to press without
Prudence Maddox.

Sennett, try the jail again, will you?
See if you can find out something, anything.

- But I've tried six times.
- Try ten times, twenty times!

Keep on trying till you get it
and don't argue!

It's important, Mr. Gates,
we gotta have it.

Okay, okay, you'll get it. Right now I'm...
You gotta have what?

The Lovelorn Column.

We've had twenty Prudence Maddoxes
in the last six months.

That's it, I'm up to my neck in work and
he bothers me about Lovelorn columns.

Lovelorn columns, Prudence Maddox,
who cares?

- Fix that!
- But the readers expect it.

Stop babbling. The biggest
execution story in years is breaking...

...and you're bothering me
about Lovelorn columns.

Go away, we're trying to
get out a newspaper.

That's right, we're trying
to get out a newspaper.

And the Lovelorn column can be very
important. Don't ever forget that, Gates.

Don't you worry, Pop, we'll get
you fixed up in a minute.

- Has Laurie Abbott phoned?
- No, it's a big job for a little girl.

Save your tears. I gave her that
assignment and I'm not a bit worried.

You know, Pop, there must be
something screwy going on up there.

That guy Varney was supposed
to burn over an hour ago...

...and we haven't heard a word
from anybody.

Hey, Eddie, keep your eye on
that Amalgamated wire.

Right!

Well, what is it you want?
- Oh, yes, that Bewildered Hearts column.

Oh, I know that nobody wants
to write it, but...

Well, I'll put somebody permanent
on it next week.

Well, our Prudence Maddox
for tonight will be, um...

Well, let's see...

Oh, not again, boss, please,
I did it the last night.

- Important.
- Well, you'd better stick with it.

Sennet!

Oh, look, boss, I was Prudence Maddox
two nights ago and I'm still sick.

Hm...
Oh, Meeker!

Oh, Meeker!

Meeker!

Oh, please, boss, please.

Now, you know the paper has to have
a Prudence Maddox column.

Go on, don't act like a
woman about it.

What an age we live in. My wife builds
battleships and I write a Lovelorn column.

I want to see the managing editor!

Oh, come back some other
time, Mr. Crowder.

We're very busy right now
with this Varney execution.

Bah! Varney means nothing!
It's Mr. Greer who ought to be executed.

And he would have been too
if they'd let me talk at the trial.

- But Mr. Crowder...
- Get out of my way, you jitterbug.

Say, how are you, Gramps?
What new reform are you backing now?

I'm not backing anything,
I'm against something.

I've just written a book, an expos?.
Black market, cheating Uncle Sam.

And I must see the managing editor.

I don't know, Gates, I don't know.

Varney dies in electric chair.

Varney cheats chair at final minute.

Now wait a minute, Mitch, you know
Varney hasn't got a chance.

But you know this is Greer's
town, don't you?

That's right, Mr. Mitchell, that's right!

And it's Greer that they ought
to be killing now.

How did you get in here again?
Why don't you stop annoying people?

I'm not talking to you,
I'm talking to Mr. Mitchell.

Now look, Mr. Mitchell...

Gates, the more I think about this,
the more I know I'm right.

Sure you are, it's all in my book.

And now I got it all in here.

Affidavits, personal testimony...

...telling how Greer bootlegs in tires,
sugar, nails and coffee.

It's all in my book.
The Black Market.

Okay, leave it here,
I'll read it later.

Oh, no, this is my only copy.
It isn't finished yet.

But when it is, I'll give it to you.

And then we'll fight Greer together
shoulder to shoulder.

Listen, can't you see I'm busy? Stop
bothering me with a lot of silly notions.

Silly notions? I knew it.

You're just like the others, Mitchell.
You're scared of Greer!

You're yellow just like all the editors.
You're yellow!

I'll fight on my own!

Uh-oh. His ear's itching.

- Here comes a hunch.
- What's it gonna be this time?

Gates, I'm gonna play my hunch!
I'm gonna start rolling with this one.

Wait a minute, Mitch, this Crowden
is a screwball, he's daffy.

This has nothing to do with Crowder.
It's my hunch.

Varney won't burn because
he's one of Greer's men.

That's why Laurie hasn't phoned, that's why
there isn't going to be any execution.

Greer's too powerful!

Hey, Jimmy, we start rolling
with this one.

As soon as the flash comes in, we get
the stuff out and beat the town.

- Look, Mitch, you can't just print hunches.
- I can't huh?

- Now, look, I'm trying to warn you.
- Listen, I'm the managing editor.

It's my hunch. If anything
goes wrong, it's my neck.

- Go ahead and start rolling!
- Okay, chief!

- Major Turner?
- Yes, Gates, what is it?

Your managing editor has
gone wild again.

He's printing 20,000 copies
we'll never put on the street.

And on a hunch.

Gates, do me a favor, will you?
Stop worrying about Mitchell.

I'm perfectly satisfied with
the way he's running my paper.

I give up.

This is a newspaper situation they
wouldn't use even in Hollywood.

Any second now
the next switch does it.

Warden! Warden!
Wait, I have a message for you!

Open the door.

- Warden, this is Mr. Cummings.
- All right, Warden, release Varden. Here.

The Governor tried to phone you
but they wires were down.

Gentlemen, it's a full pardon.

Thanks, Cummings.

It's okay, now get dressed. Greer wants
to see you in town right away.

Boy, I sure thought I was a gonner.

- Yeah, it was a close call, wasn't it?
- Too close.

- Well, we'll try and do better next time.
- Huh?

Come on.

- Hey, what keeps you?
- Hey, what's the matter with the phone?

You're wasting your time, boys,
the lines ain't been fixed yet.

Why didn't you tell us that before?

I'm in no hurry.
They gave me forty years.

How about the telegraph office?

Ohh!

Wh-where is everybody,
where are the others?

Oh, they went out.
It was over fast, wasn't it?

- Fast?
- Yeah.

Hello!

- Hello, operator!
- Just one moment, please.

The line is being repaired.

Alright, number, please.

Hm. Standard 4600, please.
And hurry it up, operator.

What? Laurie Abbott?
Alright, I will.

Abbott! It's Laurie Abbott!
Mr. Mitchell, Laurie Abbott!

- Here?
- No, on the telephone. Mr. Mitchell!

Yes, Abbott, go ahead!

Give me that.

Yes, honey.

It's all over, Mitch. Varney was
electrocuted just a few minutes ago.

"The doctors pronounced him dead exactly
3 minutes and 30 seconds...

...after they strapped him
into the chair."

"Varney was the picture of abject terror
as they led him into the death chamber."

I warned you about this.

"He had to be held up as they
strapped him into the chair."

- "All his usual bravado was gone."
- Hey, Gates. Kill that headline I sent down.

Tell Pop to start rolling with
the other story.

But, chief, it's too late. the edition
has gone out already.

Gone out? I didn't tell you
to send it on the street!

- But I thought...
- Never mind what you thought.

Get those papers back!
Gates, call circulation!

For heaven's sake, do something!

"...but I'm sure he saw nothing."

"His lips moved a little bit,
but no words came."

- "Oh, then the usual..."
- Wait a minute, Laurie.

Listen, I want to talk to you.

Will you shut up?

Why, Mitch!

Look, sweetheart, our whole future
may depend on this.

Wasn't there a last-minute
attempt made to save Varney?

Didn't anybody try to interfere?
Isn't there something you overlooked?

What are you talking about, Mitch? I'm a good
enough reporter to know exactly what I saw.

- I'm giving you all the facts.
- Ohh...

"At a signal from the warden, the switch
was thrown by the state..."

Mr. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell!

Mr. Mitchell, look, look! This just came up
over the Amalgamated wire.

"...offender against society
paid with his life..."

Gates, don't bother about
making any changes.

You can relax, gang. My hunch
came through as usual.

Varney had a full pardon.

Shh!

Hello, Laurie... Oh, Laurie!

Yes, dear, what's wrong?

Not a thing, my lamb.

I just don't want you to send in
any more copy tonight.

Um... darling...

What did you say about
being a good reporter?

Well... nothing, except that I watched
everything very closely.

How they snapped the electrodes
on his head and legs,

how the current raced through him...

Poor Laurie, it must have been
awfully tough on you.

Well, I didn't mind, Mitch.

After all, I was doing it
for the paper.

And for you.

I understand, dear.

Now you get a good night's rest
and come in early in the morning.

You've done a noble job.

So noble in fact, that I've got
a promotion for you.

A promotion? How wonderful, Mitch.
What is it?

You'll find out.

Now get some rest and don't let
this execution prey on your mind.

- I won't, dear.
- Good night.

Good night, darling.

- Oh, I'm sorry.
- Okay, toots.

Has the boss been looking for me?

No, but the truant officer has, you were
out after nine again last night.

Any mail for me, Jimmy?

No, all for Prudence Maddox.

- Hi, Prudie!
- Hey, Prudie!

- How's the promotion, Miss Abbott?
- Don't be so formal, call me Prudie.

Look, you mustn't take this
thing so seriously.

Sure the hang's kidding you,
but they'll lay off after a while.

They'd better. I'm getting pretty sick
of their alleged wisecracks.

I remember our first Prudence Maddox.
Started this column twenty-two years ago.

She felt the same way as you do.
Thought she'd wind up in an asylum.

- Where is she now?
- In an asylum.

Well, well, well, if it isn't
my old friend Prudence.

- And how is Miss Maddox today?
- My name is Abbott.

From the stuff you're turning out
you could use Costello.

Ha ha ha, very funny.

Well, I don't mean it to be funny,
I'm serious.

You've been three days on the job
and your stuff is terrible.

Exactly, and it's going
to keep on getting worse.

I tell you, I can't write this tripe.
It's corny, it's stupid.

- It's idiotic.
- It's nothing of the sort.

If you make it corny and stupid,
that's the way it's gonna be.

But it doesn't have to be that way.

- No?
- No. Now listen!

You pulled a stunt the other night
that could have ruined the paper.

Don't you think you rate
a few days in the doghouse?

The doghouse I wouldn't mind,
but this!

This is whole kennel!

- I tell you I can't write this junk.
- Well, I tell you you must.

A lot of lovely things come out
of the Lovelorn column.

Change conditions, remedy unhappiness and
toss a little sunshine into lonely lives.

- Did you ever think of it that way?
- Oh, brother, please!

Now listen. When a good newspaperman
gets a doghouse assignment,

...he tackles it as if it were the greatest
story in the world.

That takes guts. And that's what
makes a good newspaperman.

But you wouldn't know about
that, would you?

If that's the $64 question, no!

Of course, if you hate the job
as you say you do,

I can tell you a way you can
get out of it.

Oh, Mitch, please.

Well, instead of waiting to click
as a career girl,

we can go down to City Hall this
afternoon and get married right away.

Oh, marry you right away, hm?

Why, I couldn't begin to
deserve you now.

The great Steve Mitchell with
a teletype machine for a heart?

Marry you? I'd have to be crazy.

Hey. Don't try to change the subject.

One of these days, mister, all this
is going to catch up with you.

One of those hunches of yours
is going to backfire on you...

...and you're going to be out in the alley
where you've always belonged.

Speaking of alleys, I know a nice little
restaurant over on 3rd St.

And as long as you won't
marry me this afternoon,

how about having dinner with me tonight
and we'll talk the whole thing over.

Look, I'm out in the snow without shoes,

looking into a baker's window
and dying for a morsel of bread.

I'm lonely, broke and starving to death
and I still wouldn't have dinner with you!

Goodbye, Miss Prudie.

I wish I new more about women.

- Gates, are you a married man?
- Sure he is, can't you tell?

No, I thought it was
chronic indigestion.

There's nothing wrong with my digestion...
Or my wife!

Hey, you guys. Big stuff,
get ready for an extra.

Senator Krause's great gain has been
funded by the highway patrol...

That ought to be great for page 1.

You can kill that Harrison and Warshaw,
they kissed and made up.

Old man Crowder dropped dead.
Hey, you remember Crowder.

He was a little on the screwy side,
always trying to reform the world.

Sure, he was in here a couple of nights ago,
the night Varney came so close to frying.

Well, that's one less nut.
Give us about 50 words on it.

- Okay.
- Wait a minute.

How did he die and where
did they find him?

Down at Geller's beach. The old guy had
a heart attack while he was in the water.

When they dragged him out,
his worries were over.

Crowder... Crowder... Oh, yeah, he was
writing some kind of a cockeyed book.

Wanted to give it to me, remember?

Said it was full of evidence and affidavits.

All about Greer and the black market.

Wait a minute, Mitch, you're not
going to start again, are you?

Did you go down there with the cops?

Are you sure they didn't find
anything but heart trouble?

Well, I was right there, boss.

There's been no autopsy, but the
ambulance doc looked him over.

No cuts or bruises.

What's peculiar about it? An old guy goes
swimming and kicks off. Is that for Ripley?

- Hey, Sennett.
- Yes, sir.

Get all the dope you can on Crowder out of
the files. You get a couple of good pictures.

Hey, did he have a wife?

Yeah, I've seen her. She's even
crazier than he was.

A professional crystal-gazer,
if you don't mind.

Probably at the morgue right now.

Hop down there and see if she knows anything
about that book. He only had one copy.

Mac, you go with Davis
and get some pictures.

No, never mind, you'd better
stick with me.

Look, Mitch, you're on the wrong track.

Gates, I want to ask you a very
important question.

Now, in your opinion, your honest,
sincere opinion,

do you think that Crowder might
have been knocked off?

- Absolutely not!
- Do you really mean that?

- Of course. The idea's ridiculous.
- Then I know I'm right. Come on, Mike.

Sorry to interrupt, girls.

- Is Mr. Greer here?
- I think he's in the dining room.

Or perhaps you'll find him
in the bar, Mr. Mitchell.

The bar!

- Hi there, Mr. Mitchell.
- Hi, there.

Hi there.

Hiya, Mitch, anything I can
do for you?

If there is, you've already
done it. Greer in?

Mr. Greer.
Just a minute, I'll see.

Is Mr. Greer in? Mr. Mitchell
of the News Chronicle.

Oh, by all means, let him in.

Well, well, well, it's my old friend
Mr. Mitchell.

Pleasure to see you again, Mitch.

Wish I could say the same
about you.

You could if you kicked it through
throngs the way I sometimes do.

- How are you, Mac?
- Oh, I'm charming, but thirsty.

Double scotch and soda, buddy,
a big one, I got...

Give him a cup of coffee, black.

Hello, Cummings. Hello, Varney.

Say, you look pretty good for a guy
that almost got the shock of his life.

- Is that supposed to be funny?
- Not bad.

As a matter of fact, for a
newspaperman it's pretty good.

Why the visit, Mitch,
what's on your mind?

Oh, nothing much. Just dropped in
to tell you they found a dead man today.

Name's Crowder.

Crowder.

I don't seem to remember the name.

Do you know him, Cummings?

Yeah, he was a crackpot reformer. I heard
about his death down at City Hall.

- Heart failure.
- Too bad.

There's so much of that these days.

Poor fellow. I suppose like all
reformers he was broke.

If you're taking a collection,
I'd be only too happy to contribute.

No collections.
Very thoughtful of you.

- Very nice, wasn't it, Mac?
- It's positively yummy.

Alright, what do you want?

This fellow Crowder was writing
some sort of a book.

Black market stuff.

Illicit dealing in rubber and sugar.

He put the finger on you.

So what? Charlie, give the boys a drink.

Now listen, Mitch,

all my life newspapers and crackpots
have been putting the finger on me.

It used to be paving contracts
and booze.

Now it's going to be sugar and tires,
it's okay with me.

I'll still get along very nicely.

Very nice logic, Mr. Greer.

But it doesn't explain Crowder's death.

Now wait a minute.
Let's get something straight.

Are you suggesting I had anything
to do with it? Is that why you're here?

Yeah, that's it exactly.

Now look you can't talk
to my client like that.

Why not? He can talk to me
any way he wants to... up to a point.

You're a smart man, Mitch. I know you
don't believe I had any connection with it.

You came up here to burn me up so I might
say something I shouldn't say, hm?

Very smart, my friend, very smart.

But I refuse to get angry, see?

Instead I think it's funny.

That makes me smarter than you are,
eh, Mitch? What do you know about that?

Hints foul play at tragedy.
Greer laughs at reformer's death.

Well, that's libel, sir, criminal libel.

You can't get away with this type
of thing, Major Turner, and you know it.

You don't have to scream, Cummings,
my hearing's perfectly normal.

In that case it's the only
normal thing around here.

Major Turner, I'm not going to waste
much more of my time.

- Are you going to do as we ask?
- Your demands are ridiculous.

I wouldn't say so.
I think they're very mild.

And I agree. How dare you link
my client with murder...

...when there isn't the slightest bit
of evidence in that direction?

Old man Crowder died of a heart
attack while he was swimming.

And here's the autopsy
report to prove it.

I'm not interested in that
report, Cummings.

Mr. Greer can have those
written by the bushel.

My own doctors are examining
the body now.

I'll take their word.

This is a nice office, Major,
a nice office in a nice building.

I'd hate to see you lose
the whole works.

Oh, stop threatening me,
will you, Greer?

I'm not the least bit alarmed.
In fact, if you want to know,

I am inclined to agree with every
line that Mitchell printed.

Interesting.

He had concrete evidence or he
wouldn't have used that story.

You don't think my managing editor's
a complete fool do you?

I wish you wouldn't put me on a spot
with a question like that.

I have complete confidence
in Mr. Mitchell.

Hello?
Oh, yes.

Yes, go ahead.

I see.

I see.

You're quite sure about that,
no chance for any errors?

I see.

Very well. Good bye.

You were saying something about your
absolute confidence in Mr. Mitchell.

Oh, yes, of course...
Gentlemen, I'm very busy right now.

I'll think over what you said.

No, you'll do more than
think about it, Turner.

- We demand immediate action.
- Quite right.

It seems we're going to get it too.

That telephone call just now didn't
make the major feel any better.

That's nonsense! What do you mean?
Why, I... I... I...

We'd better be going, Cummings,
before the major has a stroke...

...and they blame that on us too.

Turner, you'd better do
as we say...

...or you'll be a very sorry man.

I tell you we've got him behind the eight
ball. If we follow through, we cant miss.

Alright. Mitch, Major Turner wants
to see you in his office right away.

Oh, even the publishers can wait.
Beautiful morning, isn't it, Gates?

I don't know!

Say, Mitch, I tried to get a picture
of that dame Crowder's widow...

...but she's lammed out of town.

I'm not surprised,
they probably scared her out.

I found out something, though.
You know where Crowder met her?

In a dance hall, that lonesome
club down Campbell St...

...where they give free weddings,
so he marries her.

- Keep it on ice, I'll talk to you later.
- Yeah, but, uh...

Okay, Major, I know exactly what's on your
mind, we'll start a campaign right away.

I'd wait a few moments
if I were you, Mitchell.

Did you ever hear of a little thing
called an autopsy report?

Oh, look, Major, if you're worried about the
so-called official verdict on Crowder's death,

forget it, we have our own
doctors down there.

Yes, I know, they phoned me
while Greer was here.

Greer? You mean he had the nerve
to show his face around here?

- Did you call for me, Major?
- Yes, sit down, Miss Abbott.

Our doctors confirmed the
coroner's verdict.

Not the slightest evidence that
Crowder was murdered.

- But it can't be!
- It can be and it is!

Well, you've finally done it, Mitchell.

Not only am I compelled to print
an abject apology to Greer,

but if I am to save my paper, I have
definite orders to sacrifice you.

- Oh, Mitch.
- It's all right, honey.

If he hasn't any more faith in me than
that, we'll tear up our contract. Come on.

What, and let you walk out,
go to another newspaper...

...and leave me here to take care
of all the headaches?

Oh, no! Miss Abbott, I'm putting
you back on the city side.

You'll report to Gates for
your assignments.

In the future and for the duration
of Mr. Mitchell's contract,

he will be the new Prudence Maddox.

- Huh? Prudence Maddox?
- You heard what I said.

Those are my orders.

- Oh, Mitch!
- What are you giggling about?

Well, go ahead and enjoy yourself.

Prudence Maddox, eh? Well, get this
straight, I'm through!

If I never had another job
as long as I lived,

I wouldn't let you put a thing
like this over on me.

You can crawl on your back
to Mr. Greer if you like,

that's just your speed,
but count me out!

As far as that contract is concerned,
you can shove it down your throat.

Get Gates.
You know, I like that fellow.

Hello?
Yes, Major Turner.

What, me? Oh, yes, sir, yes, sir,
of course I can.

And from now on your paper
will be run on facts, not hunches.

Um... but what about Mitchell?

He's what?

Yes, sir, yes, sir.

Yes, sir, of course, sir.
Thank you, sir.

Attention, everybody!

Major Turner has just appointed me
the new managing editor.

From now on you will take
your orders from me.

Mr. Gates. The Bewildered Hearts column.
Laurie Abbott hasn't brought it in yet.

And she won't. Laurie Abbott is
no longer on that column.

Mr. Gates, not me again!

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you
our new Prudence Maddox.

Mr. Steven Mitchell himself.

Take it easy, Mitch!

Quitting, Mitch?

No, I'm packing for the weekend.
Now go on, beat it, you've had your laugh.

Oh, I'm surprised at you.

The great Steve Mitchell, the big shot
that knows all the answers.

Gets sore when he's put
in the doghouse.

You shut up!

Of, course, I don't know where
you think you're going.

You can't work on another paper, you know,
not as long as you've got a contract here.

- Don't worry, don't worry, I'll get by.
- Oh, I'm sure you will.

But if you were to ask my opinion,

I'd suggest you take a crack
at this Prudence Maddox stuff.

At least for a while.

Me write that tripe? Why it's stupid,
it's corny, it's everything I don't like.

It's corny and stupid if you
make it corny and stupid,

- but it doesn't have to be that way.
- Now listen, Laurie, this...

Look, you could do a lot of swell things
with the lonely hearts column.

Toss a lot of sunshine into
lonesome lives.

You know, Mitch, when a good newspaper
reporter gets a doghouse assignment,

he treats it as if it were the most
wonderful story in the world.

But that takes guts, and you
wouldn't know about that, would you?

Hm, I wouldn't, huh?

Mitch!

- What are you going to do?
- Do?

I'm gonna be the greatest Prudence
Maddox the paper ever had.

In fact I'm gonna be so good,
they'll wish I never started.

I'm gonna be a thorough nuisance
around here and you're gonna help me.

Hello, Goldie, give me the major.

Yes, yes the good old publisher.

I have an appointment with Miss Maddox,
she invited me for tea.

Well, Miss Maddox is busy...

One lump or two?

Gates, get these women out of
our City Room.

Shoo, shoo! You can't come in here!

Do you really think all this crazy stuff
is gonna get you some place?

Can't miss, and that's the way
it's gonna be, my pet.

Either he's going to fire me or put me
back where I belong, and I have a hunch that...

Hello? Bewildered Hearts Department,
at your service.

Oh, hello... Oh, hello, Major!

Well how are you?
Yeah, you bet.

I'll be right there.

See what I mean? I'm homed on.
And I knew it all the time.

Winchell's uncle.

Gates, this is bad, very bad.

You've had ten days
and I don't see any results.

But you're used to Mitch's style,
that's all, if you'll only give me a chance.

- Let me try my ideas.
- Your ideas?

Listen, Mitch may be a bullhead
who plays hunches,

but he's a real newspaperman
and don't you ever forget it.

- Yes, sir.
- Now take this back and do it over again.

Just try to imagine what Mitch would do,
then you do it, just that way.

- Yes, sir.
- Oh, greetings, Gates.

- Hello, Major.
- Hello, Mitch, come in, my boy, sit down.

- You look extremely well.
- Just the way I feel.

Mitch, you and I have acted
like a couple of children.

When I made you Prudence Maddox,
I'll admit I acted maliciously.

Well, Major, you had a lot coming,

after all you did hang out on a limb
with that Crowder story.

But I was too severe.

Well, if we're going to play
truth or consequences,

I have a little confessing
to do myself.

You know, when I started that Maddox stuff,
I really meant to embarrass you.

- You know, kid the whole thing...
- But you couldn't do it, Mitch.

The paper means too much to you.
Here, look at that report.

The last ten days, in spite of all the
nonsense, you've upped our circulation 12%.

That's what counts, my boy.

That's fine. That makes everything
about even, doesn't it?

More than even. If you're willing
to let bygones be bygones.

Why, of course, Major, and that's
the way it always should have been.

Well, when do I take over?

Take over?

Yeah, my old job as managing editor.

Why, Mitch, after the splendid job
you've done as Prudence Maddox,

you don't think I'd change now,
do you?

- What?
- No, Mitch, you misunderstood me.

I'm taking up your contract
option for another year...

...and retaining you as our
Bewildered Hearts editor.

Why, you've been wonderful.

Said I was wonderful.
That's what he said. Wonderful!

That makes it practically unanimous,
doesn't it?

Well, it isn't fair. I've enslaved myself
to death trying to get fired.

Young man tries too hard
not to make good.

- Now listen...
- I tell you, Mitch,

...it's a new kind of success story.

Chief, there's a lovesick maid outside...

...who said she's just gotta see you.
I can't get rid of her.

Show her in, Jimmy, that's all
Mr. Mitchell needs right now.

- No!
- Uh-oh, show must go on, you know.

Although I often wonder why.

Now listen, I don't want to see anybody.
Nobody, you understand that?

Oh, Miss Maddox, I knew
you wouldn't turn me down.

- Oh now, just a minute, I'm...
- Please hear me, it won't take long.

All right, I'll be glad to hear
your story.

- What's your name, dear?
- Lundstrom. Kirsty Lundstrom.

My secretary.
Take some notes, Mitchell.

- Sit down, dear.
- Thank you.

Now, what seems to be
your trouble?

This was to have been
my wedding day.

My boyfriend had a good job
driving a truck.

He made nice money. But he borrowed
from me, Miss Maddox.

- Two hundred dollars.
- Well you shouldn't have given it to him.

- No decent young man would...
- It was that other woman.

Karl was a good man up to
the day he died.

- Oh, he died.
- Last week.

I wouldn't even go to the funeral.
I couldn't stand to see her.

She married him, Miss Maddox.

She married him in that Lonesome Club
down on Campbell St...

- ...where they give free weddings.
- Huh?

- Lonesome Club?
- Yeah.

Karl went there first with some
other truck drivers

He said he could make some money. But then
he got in trouble with them big shots.

- Big shots?
- Yeah.

- The Lonesome Club?
- Yes.

What big shots?

I don't know. Some politicians,
or something, I don't know.

Tell me, what's the name
of your boyfriend?

Um, Nielsen, Karl Nielsen.

- Karl Nielsen, huh?
- Yes.

- How did he die?
- I don't know.

One day he was fine, next day
he was taken to the hospital.

What are you asking all those
silly questions for?

Well, thanks for coming in
and we'll keep in touch with you.

- Miss Maddox will show you out.
- Say, listen!

Get her address and come right back.

- Listen I don't get this.
- You'll get it.

Thank you very much.

Oh, Mac!

- Goldie, get me City Hall.
- Hey, what's cooking?

Listen, do you remember you once tried
to tell me about that Crowder dame?

Crowder?
- Yeah, you know, old man Crowder's widow,

the screwball, the crystal gazer.
Where did she meet him?

Oh, yeah, down that Lonesome Club
joint on Campbell St.

- Where's she living now?
- I couldn't find out.

All I know is she lammed out of town.

- Get your hat.
- Get my hat.

Alright, Superman, explain yourself.

What do you mean by ribbing
that poor woman?

- I wasn't ribbing.
- Asking all those silly questions.

Well, here's your hat,
let's get going.

Now wait a minute, what is this,
where are we going?

We're going to a glamor joint.

Beautiful music and dancing feet,
in fact we're off in search of romance.

Mr. Mitchell, City Hall on the wire.

Oh, I forgot. You two go down
and get a cab, I'll be right down, hm?

- Now wait a minute.
- Stop arguing, go ahead!

Hello, give me the coroner's office.

Can't you see how it all ads up?

Two guys, Crowder and Kirsty's
boyfriend, Karl Nielsen.

Both married dames in the Lonesome Club...

...and then they both die mysteriously.

- We don't know that.
- We're gonna know that.

That telephone call I had just now was
to a pal of mine in the coroner's office.

He's going to look into Nielsen's death.

And if we can prove that he was murdered,
then we'll dig up Crowder.

And what if we can't prove it?

Will you stop giving me
a woman's argument?

This Lonesome Club will be
the key to the whole racket.

And believe me, it's no penny
in the slot racket.

It's big enough to bump guys off.

Something new has been added.

Pleasant little place, isn't it?

Very charming, I must bring my mother
here to tea some afternoon.

Now listen, keep your eyes open and
pretend you're having a good time.

And don't put on any Ritz.

Oh, stop it, I know how to handle
myself at any assignment.

Sure, if you don't think.

Check them over there.

Three, please.

There's nobody here.

Leave your hats over there,
I'll see that you get them.

Look's like we got here just on time.

Do you Roy Strepple, take this woman
to be your lawful wedded wife?

- Sai "I do".
- I do.

Do you, Ruby Leffertz, take this man
to be your lawful wedded husband?

That's fine, now repeat after me.

- I Roy, take thee, Ruby.
- I Roy, take thee, Ruby.

For my lawful wedded wife
till death do us part.

- For my lawful wedded...
- Now you.

I Ruby, take thee, Roy, for my lawful wedded
husband till death do us part.

Yeah... that's good enough.

- The ring, please.
- Yes, sir.

- I got it, serious.
- Now repeat after me.

With this ring I thee wed.

- With this...
- By the authority invested in me,

...I do in the presence of these witnesses
pronounce you man and wife.

Don't be bashful, kiss the bride, Roy.

Johnson! Johnson!

Just a moment, fellows, just a moment!

Just a moment, please.

I know you all want to hear a word
from our genial host, Mr. Robelink.

Mr. Robelink.

Well, folks, you've just witnessed the
79th wedding in the Lonesome Club.

And to every couple that does likewise,

the management presents a month's
free rent,

a week's free groceries and the services
of my good friend Judge Hardaker.

Come on girls, come on, let's get
some spirit into this thing!

What do you say, baby, let's shake.

Hey, did you see that?

The same goes for you.
Grab yourself a partner.

No. Not unless the orchestra
plays a hot minuet.

- Do you want something, mister?
- No, no, just looking around.

Watch him, he doesn't belong here.

- What's your name?
- Maggie.

My favorite name.
Want to dance?

I took one squint at you and realized
you were the same class.

Right away I knew it.
I never miss in human nature.

- How about it, boss?
- Alright, after I've counted up.

No hurry, just so I get it
before I go home.

- Excuse me.
- Oh, you're doing fine, babe.

Take it easy, lady.
Perseverence, you know.

Must be the music,
excuse me, please.

Excuse me, a friend of mine.

Harry, my boy, give me a tall one.

Give fools their silks,
and knaves their wine,

there's nothing like a rousing
glass of lemonade.

Make it two. I liked the way you did it
over there, judge, nice going.

Thank you, thank you, sir.

Yep, I knew right away.
I ain't a regular customer here.

O got special reasons for being here.

Nice to have met you, toots.

What's the matter, peaches,
lonesome?

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four...
one, two, three, four.

Yes, sir, 79 couples blissfully spliced
last year in this one place alone.

Were you thinking of taking
the step yourself?

Frankly, yes. But I don't think
I'd care for this mass production.

I want to be married by a man
who will take a personal interest...

...in the little woman and myself
in the years the come.

Well, you've found the right man.

There isn't a judge in town broods
over his chick the way I do.

Oh, I know you try, but all these people,
you must lose contact.

Nonsense, I keep track of them all.

Every blessed couple married out
of this club, their addresses, birthdays,

even anniversaries, so I can remind them.

Could I just see...

Uh... to my mind, when a man undertakes
to marry folks, he's got a responsibility.

Well, that's my idea exactly.

- Why, I've patched up hundreds of quarrels.
- Yeah, but if I could just see..

Of course, they're not all
as confiding as you.

Many couples seem to resent arbitration,
tell me to mind my own business.

- Imagine!
- But there are others who are very happy...

...to have a friend and counselor
in their problems, yes indeed.

And it's all here. Of course it only
goes back two years.

Well, for the moment this will do
very nicely, very nicely indeed.

Well, gotta be going, see ya.

Some night, Don. Keep your eyes open.

Very interesting.

Tell the boss the first load's about to go.
Give him these invoices.

Right.

Hey, Harry, watch it, I'll be
back in a minute.

Matthew Crowder?

Did you perform that one?
I read about it, you know.

That case? Poor Lucille, I'm afraid
she's taking it very badly.

- Lucille?
- Mrs. Crowder, the widow.

I saw her the other day, I hardly
knew the poor dear.

- Wait a minute, I read she left town.
- Just for a time.

Wanted to get away from some
terrible newspaperman.

Can you imagine that scribbling fellow
claimed her husband was murdered?

- Imagine!
- Harry, my boy.

Take it away.

Come on, come on, snap it up
or we'll have the FBI on our tails.

- Hey, load that crate in your truck!
- Okay.

More!

More!

That's all for now.

Why, it's a revelation. You're
just an old sentimentalist, Judge.

Supposing I keep this... Oh, just for
a few days, to show my intended bride.

You know, she wants to elope
to another town, thinks it's romantic.

But when she sees this, she won't
have anybody but you, Judge.

Possible. But since you're not regular
patrons, of course there'll be a fee.

Gladly, and a bonus too.

- Oh, Mr. Robelink.
- Having a nice chat?

Here's your five dollars,
and your wife's waiting outside.

Oh, bless my soul, that woman.

Fast as I earn a dime, she's around.
Er, excuse me, mister...

- Sure.
- Good night, Mr. Robelink.

That wife of mine. Why I ever got
married in the first place I'll never know.

- Lovely fellow.
- Newspaperman, uh?

Oh, does it show?

- What do you want here?
- It's my stock and trade, buddy, you know.

Human interest, how the other half lives.

You mean to say you wouldn't like
a little free publicity?

We don't want any publicity,
free or otherwise.

Boss.

Did another roll of quarters.

- Suppose you forget about publicity.
- Okay. It's all right if I dance, isn't it?

- You paid to get in, didn't you?
- That I did, brother.

- Take a break, Mitch, get in...
- We gotta get out of here, where's Laurie.

- I don't know.
- Well, you gotta help me find her.

Oh, come on...

Harry, tell Mooch to come up here
as soon as he's finished.

This guy and his friend are here
for no good.

Okay.

Hey, Mooch, the boss wants to see you
as soon as you're finished.

Right.

You're loaded, Novak, shove off.

Okay, but I won't be back
no more tonight.

Hey, Joe, bring a truck in
for the next load.

Come on, hurry up, you guys,
I can't keep the boss waiting forever.

Hey, Harry, you left that door open.

- That's okay, the Mooch will be right up.
- That door's gotta be locked.

Boss's orders.

She must be here somewhere.

Why didn't you keep an eye on her,
you know this is a joint.

- Who are you shoving?
- Get out of the way!

Hey, wait a minute,
you can't sock him!

I gotta go up and see Robelink.
I can't keep him waiting any longer.

Hey, you guys, stick to it,
I'll be right back.

Hey, Scotty, there's a dame up there
snooping around.

Hey, what's the big idea,
what's going on down...

Over there, the ones I told you to watch!
Throw them out of here!

Okay, boss!

Folks!
Folks, please!

Hey, Mac, hang on to this.

Find Laurie and get her out of here.

She's way ahead of you.

Here's your hats.

Nice going, gentlemen.

Any other place you'd like to take
a lady for a quiet evening?

Now don't get so smart. A lot of good
came from our being here.

Get a load of that...

- Very pretty.
- What is it, a new kind of strand of wheat?

Never mind, skip it.
Where's that glass?

- Huh?
- The one I gave you during the fight.

Was... was that what it was?

Don't tell me it's broken!

Broken? It's mangled.

- What good...
- Give me that, give me that!

What good is it?

It's got Robelink's fingerprints on it, and
the book's had all the names of his victims.

Well, never mind, you did
the best you could.

I'm sorry, honey, really I am. I didn't
mean to take you to a joint like this.

Oh, I didn't mind, As a matter
of fact I was glad to come.

Any good reporter with her eyes wide
open would find a story any place...

...and go to work on it all alone.

You know, I didn't mind to fight back,
but to have nothing come of it.

Oh, there's a jinx around this neighborhood,
this whole part of town.

For some people perhaps, but not
for anybody with her eyes wide open.

There's a hoodoo around here,
I tell you.

Oh, bulk.

Well, it was in that house across
the street just a year ago...

...they sent me down here to get
some pictures of Frankie Scimoli.

When I walked in, there was
the guy strung up by a rope.

He'd hung himself.

Boy, you should have seen his face.

I don't think I ever saw
anything like it.

And when they cut him down,
his kisser was the color of raw liver.

Say, what's the matter,
what did you say to her?

Nothing, she hates liver.

- Do you see what I see?
- It's Prudence Maddox.

Hello, Prudie, my sweet.

What's the Lovelorn editor
doing down at City Hall?

Oh, just checking a few items
for my column.

Any chance of you and the mayor
getting a divorce?

Oh, we are a very happy family.

But I must say you're doing wonderful
with your love columns.

When I have a problem of the heart,
Miss Maddox, I'll come straight to you.

Well, do that, Mr. Greer, it will be nice
to know that you have a heart.

Excuse me.

Remind me to hate that guy
some time, will you?

It's plenty cracked in spots,
but you can some prints from them.

They're pretty large fragments.

Fingerprints from these? Uh-uh.

Sorry, I'm just a cop, not a magician.

You see, I figure if you could paste the
pieces together, you could tell who was dead.

Mister, this is the Bureau of Vital
Statistics, not a puzzle factory.

I suggest that you go home and write
a nice letter to Dick Tracy.

Mitch, you can take my word for it.
About Crowder I don't know,

but I gave this Karl Nielsen's body
every test in the book...

and there's no doubt about it,
he died of complications.

Complications from what?

Measles.

- Oh, Mitch.
- Keep the change, bud.

- Where's Laurie?
- I don't know.

She didn't come in today,
nobody's seen her.

- Where have you been?
- Oh, I'm sorry I'm late,

but I've been tracking down
that dame, and I think...

Now, listen, Mac, everything's
gone wrong today...

...and I don't want you to bring
me any more bad news.

Oh, this is good news.
I located the Crowder dame.

- Madame Lucille, the crystal gazer.
- No kidding.

On the level, I found her
down at Kelsey St...

...and I made an appointment for you
for 7 o'clock tonight.

I told her you were a distinguished
world traveller.

Nice going. What's she like?

Oh, strictly nuts, a real broken-down
fortune teller.

You'd know in a minute she
was Crowder's ex-wife.

- Ex-wife?
- What else, the guy's dead, ain't he?

Can you tell me where I can
find Mr. Robelink?

His office is upstairs. It's a little early,
he ain't here yet.

I'll wait.

The mists are clearing now.

Yes... I can see more plainly.

The picture grows brighter,
ever brighter.

Gaze with me upon the
unveiling of the mists.

It may be wrong, quite wrong.

Or else so terribly right.

Yes, yes, go on, tell me more,
right or wrong.

It's so fascinating.

You are deeply sensitive.

Easily imposed upon because
of your confiding disposition.

You trust too many people.

- Who, him?
- Shut up!

Please, go on.

You are sensitive.

False people must not break
your heart.

Be strong... lest you may wither away
a poor neglected flower.

Oh, I know exactly how you feel,
Mr. Robelink and I... Well, I don't blame you.

But those men I was with wouldn't take
that assignment seriously.

- They always start fights.
- Well, they started one in the wrong place.

Oh, I know it, but...

Well, there's sure to be a story
in the paper about the fight.

And if it isn't handled properly, the club
might be closed and you'd be out of a job.

Now, I think the story should
be handled from your angle.

People should know about
the good work you're doing.

Yeah, that's right.

I worked hard getting this
place started.

Oh, and I'd handle it very
sympathetically, believe me I would.

Well, what do you want to know?

Oh, thank you, Mr. Robelink!

I do appreciate this.

And now...

The mists are closing in...
I see less plainly.

Clouds are ominous... the sky darkens.

- Is it a storm?
- Yes, of course it's a storm.

See them gathering, those black
clouds over the ocean?

And what is this? An old man, gasping,
touching his heart.

People are trying to drag him
to the shore, but it's too late.

- The old man is dead. Murdered.
- Stop it!

I see a woman, his wife.

She could have saved him
if she'd wanted him to live.

Stop it, I say!

You're not fooling me, either of you.

I know, you're detectives.

It's okay, Lucille.

It's okay. We were only testing you.

I told Robelink the whole idea
was ridiculous, didn't I?

Huh, what?
Oh, yeah, and how.

- Robelink?
- Sure, you know how he is.

He's always suspicious. So he sent us
over here to check on you.

Thought you might tell someone where
you hid that Crowder manuscript.

He knows very well where it is.

He knows very well that he took it with
him the day he killed my husband.

Sure... sure, that's just what
Robelink means.

He's afraid you might tell someone
the way he did it.

How could I when I don't know?

He just came in here for a drink and...

Then my husband went
swimming and... and...

I know, I know.

But you see, Robelink's in a spot.
He's afraid of a lot of things.

Greer, for example.

Why should he be afraid of Greer,
his own brother-in-law?

That's ridiculous.

Well... I never thought of it in
that connection.

I'm terribly sorry to have given
you so much trouble.

Don't you worry, Lucille,
everything's going to be all right.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye, Lucille.

Greer's brother-in-law,
what do you think of that?

Yeah, but how do we know Robelink really
killed Crowder just because that dame...

He killed him, all right. He probably
put something in his drink...

...before they went swimming, a heart
stimulant. We're pretty close now, Mac.

Close? We're in, come on,
let's get a cop...

Wait a minute. She's not gonna
say anything, she's too frightened.

She's gonna snap out of it in a minute
and start phoning Robelink.

That's the guy I've got to work on.

But Mitch, they know us at the Lonesome Club
now, we're not too popular around there.

I'm not thinking about the Lonesome Club,
I'm going to go where Robelink's gone.

- Where's that?
- Come along, I've got a hunch.

So I say to myself, rich folks have got
social clubs where they meet each other,

why don't poor folks get the
same break, hm?

No reason at all.
So, I start in a small way and...

If I do say so myself, I...

Just a minute.

Yeah?
Yes, speaking.

What? Checking on you?

Why?

I sent them? What are you
talking about, Lucille?

What do they look like?

Oh, I get it.

You didn't say too much, did you?

Okay, just sit tight.

Sit tight and keep your mouth shut.

Nice work, sister.

Nice work.

So you're going to write the story from my
angle, and treat it sympathetically, are you?

You little double-crosser.
No-neck, Scotty!

What is it, what's the matter?

You've been working with these
two newspaper guys all the time.

Do you know what I ought
to do to you?

Yeah, boss?

Take this dame out the back way
and put her in my car.

I'll be right there.

Oooh!

Now look, what's going on?

Say, wait a minute, I don't get it, Mitch.

What makes you so positive the guy
will pop in here?

Stop worrying, will you?
Oops!

Papa Greer must be home too.

- Table, gentlemen?
- No, thanks, we're just having a drink.

A drink.

- Good evening, sir.
- Good evening.

- Good evening.
- Is Mr. Robelink in yet?

- Who?
- Oh, never mind, give me a scotch and soda.

And a glass of ginger ale for
my little friend here.

Ginger ale? What am I in training for,
the Prudence Maddox job?

Just keep your eyes on the stairs.

- Hello, Mitch.
- Oh, hello, Cummings.

- Are you still in the newspaper doghouse?
- Yeah, chained to the doghouse.

- You don't have to be, you know?
- No?

No. You'd be a much smarter man, Mitch...

...if you stop making the wrong moves
with the right kind of people.

And I can assure you the right
kind of people...

...will always be glad to talk
to you about it.

Well, thanks, Cummings, thanks,
I'll... I'll think it over.

Yeah, do that.
I'll be glad to hear from you.

Anytime.

By the right people he don't mean
himself and Greer, does he?

These legal minds have a way of
stretching the point every now and then.

Uh-oh! Look.

- He's busy.
- He's not too busy for this.

Why, I'll never doubt another
hunch of yours again.

- Where are you going?
- You stick here.

I stick here, oh...

I didn't know anything about it
till the girl telephoned me.

She was so jittery I didn't know
what she was talking about.

Yeah, I suppose you told her plenty.

I'm telling you a didn't open my mouth.
I never said a word, I swear I didn't.

That's my own fault, every time
I trust a relative my troubles begin.

- I should have known better.
- But I'm telling you I didn't say a word.

- It was that dame.
- Shut up, shut up! Get out of here.

Go to Canada, Alaska, anywhere you want
so long as I don't have to look at you.

Give him a couple of hundred dollars.

How's Mitchell acting, important?

No, he was having a drink with
that dizzy photographer of his.

- Did you talk to him?
- Oh, for a minute.

I intimated that he'd be smarter if he stuck
closer to the right kind of people.

Yeah? And you'd be smarter
if you didn't talk to him at all.

You know, Cummings, without your jury
you're not so good.

- I resent that.
- Put it on my bill.

I'm going down to see Mitchell myself.
I'll settle with him fast.

You'll settle with me first.

- Meaning what?
- Meaning plenty!

You had me take care of Crowder,
you made me steal his manuscript.

You're not going to get rid of me
for a couple of hundred bucks.

That's a pretty good speech, Robelink.

Too bad you ain't got anything
to back it up.

To me you're just another
poor relation, see?

I don't know anything about you and
the book that Crowder wrote I burned.

That's what you think.

- I don't follow you.
- All I gave you were a few notes.

I've still got the Crowder manuscript,
and I've got it where nobody can find it.

You're not going to throw me to the wolves,
you're going to pay me, and pay me plenty.

Because if you don't, I'm going
to blast you out of this town.

Now what do you think of that,
Mr. Big Shot?

Alright, put him on the couch.

I'll reason with him when I come back.

First we're going downstairs
to see our friend Mr. Mitchell.

For his own sake I hope
he doesn't know too much.

Come on.

Block the door, Moxie,
don't let anyone in or out.

Robelink is taking a nap.

- What's the matter...
- Shut up, listen to me!

Now, there's just one way for you
to get out of this alive...

...and that's telling me where
the Crowder manuscript is.

Why should I tell you anything?

Because I'm your friend, Robelink,
your only friend.

My paper will protect you
so that you can get an even break,

but you've got to make up
your mind fast.

Greer couldn't do anything to me,
he wouldn't dare.

Hello, Mac, where's your
friend Prudie?

Oh, hello.

Cummings told me you boys were here,
I thought I might have a chat with Mitch.

Sure, he just stepped out for a dri...

I mean, he went to the drugstore, he had
a headache. He'll be right back.

- I see. Having a good time?
- You betcha.

Whoopie.

Give the gentleman anything
he wants, on the house.

Louie.

Louie, keep your eye on him.

Let me know when Mitch comes back.

Put a man outside of my window.

The patient may try a high dive.

It's your only chance, I tell you.
In a few seconds it may be too late.

Be smart, Robelink,
you don't want to die.

Where's that manuscript,
where'd you hide it?

In Woodvale Cemetery.
I hid it in Crowder's casket.

You gotta go through for me.
You promised.

Alright, Moxie, open the door.

You got a nice crowd tonight,
Mr. Greer.

- Not bad, not bad at all.
- You said you'd go through for me.

You told me you would,
you promised.

Excuse me.

Oh, hello, Greer.

- Come on in.
- Thanks.

How much were you able to get
out of Robelink?

Not a syllable. I even threw
water on him.

No use.

- You hit too hard.
- A lot of people have found that out.

How much did you hear, Mitch?
What kind of a story have you got?

Story? Humph.

The way my paper's been
pushing me around?

Oh, no. From now on I'm thinking
only of myself.

That's why I took Cummings up
on his offer.

You don't say.

You mean to say he hasn't told you that we've
been working together for about a week?

Mitch, it grieves me to say this,
but you're slipping.

Surely you can think of something
better than that.

Hm, I'm only telling you
what's happening.

Hey, I've got it. Cummings is the guy
that's been double-crossing you.

Robelink hasn't any manuscript. He's just
trying to hold you up for a little change.

I got that manuscript last week
from Crowder's widow.

And I turned it over to Cummings for $5,000
I thought was your money.

You're not the same old Mitch.

That Lovelorn job has weakened
your mind.

Has it? Well, all you have to do is
go downstairs and get Cummings...

...and we'll talk the whole thing over.

I'll do better than that.

The boys are downstairs and there's
a nice big car waiting.

We'll both confront the
treacherous Cummings.

Then see who rides in the car.

It's okay with me.

After you, Mr. Greer.

No, after you, Mr. Mitchell,
you walk ahead.

But not too far ahead.

Put somebody in there until I get back.

Keep going.

No, not that way.
This way, Mitch.

- I beg your pardon, sir.
- Mr. Mitchell has got a very interesting...

Say, what is this, a new game?

Help!

- Help!
- Go on, take your hands off me!

Help!

Help!

What's the matter?

Get in there, Mac.
Hey, you, get out!

Put him in the front
and get in after him.

He and this dame are causing
a lot of trouble.

Greer says get him out of here fast.

The boss says take them to
Woodvale Cemetery.

Now hurry up and quit stalling
and get going.

Come on, get in!

Make it fast!

Where did they go?
Answer me!

They... they said the Woodvale Cemetery,
Mr. Greer. He said you gave orders.

Woodvale? I gave orders?
Where's my car?

Barney, Moxie! Come on!

Shut up!

- I got myself in a fine mess.
- Shut up!

- Wise dame, huh?
- I...

I guess it's my own fault.

Go on, drive faster, what's
the matter with you?

- I would go out on my own.
- I told you to shut up!

- Hey!
- Oh, shut up!

Get him out.

Here, now, I'll take care of him.
Beat it back to the joint.

Hurry up, he's waiting for you.

Hey... cute kids.

Listen, I'm awful glad you turned up,
Mitch, but what's going on?

Crowder's book is here with him,
buried in his coffin.

"So the first chorus girl says, 'Goodness,
what a lovely fur coat,'

and the second one replied...

- Hey, snap out of it.
- Huh?

I'm trying to find the grave of a man
named Matthew Crowder.

Nothing doing, you can't go
in there after 6 o'clock.

Nobody's allowed in there after six.

"So the zookeeper says to Sandy,
'That animal, why that's a moose.'

'A moose?', says Sandy. 'Man if that's
a moose, I don't want to meet a rat.'

Ha-ha-ha... the guy murders me!

- Shh... I got one for you, come on.
- Yes?

A guy says to a girl, what's the best
way to get a kiss out of you?

Yes...

- Hey, Mitch, don't you think we'd better...
- Shh...

- What's funny about that?
- What's funny?

A guy says to a girl, what's the best
way to get a kiss out of you,

- the dame says use chloroform.
- That's corny.

Come on, Mac, skip it.
So we can't go in there, huh?

- You heard me, them's the rules.
- Okay.

"Then the raddish says to the
other vegetables,

'But I can't sing tonight, fellows,
on account of I'm a horse raddish.'

And that reminds me of
another funny story...

...that happened to me on the way
to the studio tonight.

Well, he must be here,
this is tier 27.

Anthony Parker.

Winston Pettijohn...
What's... what's the matter?

Marble bench.
Kicked me in the shins.

Oh, go on, work on down the line,
get busy.

Use matches.

- Please, Mitch, I tell you I don't like...
- Go ahead, pretend you're having fun.

- Fun?
- Yeah, I'm laughing myself to death.

Here's a guy named Newton Pewter.

Newton...

- Can't you stand still?
- Come on, Mitch, let's get out of here!

Shh, quiet!

- Please, Mitch.
- It's coming from over there.

- See what it is, Mac.
- Who, me?

Yes, you! Go ahead, somebody
must be playing that music.

Keep him busy for a while.

If you find Crowder,
ask him to move over.

Mitch, I'm afraid for Mac!

Keep on looking, he'll be all right.

I know why you've come.
You heard my music from the highway.

Every night I play for the dead.

They like it.

- Do you like it too?
- Oh, sure, sure...

Say, who are you, doc,
the caretaker or what?

Yes, I'm the caretaker.

But not forever.

Every night I practice.
I have ambitions.

Some day I will play for funerals.

That'll be ducky.

Oh, there's Freddie Jackson.

He killed the deputy sheriff a few
years ago, remember?

Not very clearly.

- What did he die of?
- He was electrocuted.

- Electro... electro...
- Oh, no, no, not now, not now!

Hey, look, that's it.

- Look.
- Crowder.

Get up there.

Hold this.

Not on me!

You stay by the car.

If the guy gives you any trouble,
take care of him.

- This is it, honey.
- Let me see.

Come on, they must be in there.

Get them!

Mac! Hey, Mac!

- What's going on here?
- What's that?

Mitch!

Come on, we'll grab this truck!

Mitch, wait for me!

- Mitch!
- Hey, come back here!

Stop!

- There they are!
- Where's that car?

Here they come. Come on, will you?
Hurry up, what's the matter with you?

N-nice little goosie, now. Now be
a good boy, or girl, whatever you are.

Thus we see that Boss Greer not only
anticipated the war scarcity...

...but planned to make
millions from it.

For instance, before rationing began...

Go on, go on!

But Mitch, they're gaining on us.

Forget it, I can beat them.
Go ahead, keep reading.

Before rationing began, this profiteer
had stored in his garage 9,000lb of sugar,

7,400lb of coffee...

Look out!

Barney, let them have it!

Get another shot!

Oh, shut up! The only way
I like you is stuffed!

Say, have a heart, will you, what...
what... what's the idea?

Listen, we're only a couple
of blocks from the office,

we're going to duck down this alley.
No, not you!

Get up front and start driving
and throw them off the trail.

- Come on.
- Throw them off the trail...

Oh, shut up!

Go on, go on, there's a spot,
go through.

Boss, how can I, you can't
break through the army.

Army? Don't I pay taxes?
Get out, I'll drive myself.

- But Mr. Greer, you can't!
- They're not going to stop me!

- Is this your heap, mister?
- Get out of the way, I got to get through.

Not so fast, bud, that truck's
government property.

I don't care whose property it is.
I'm in a hurry, let me by, will you?

- Now, just a minute, just a minute...
- Don't stop me.

Who do you think you're talking to?

Get out of my way.

Hold everything!

I want you to get back in this
with everything you've got.

We're going out with a special edition.
New banner headline, 8-column spread.

Greer's black market exposed.

Get every picture on Greer you've got.

Meeker, I want a full biography on Crowder,
everything fast. Grab a machine, will you?

This is it, boys, this is it!

- What do you think you're doing?
- Get out of my way, I'm busy!

- I'm in charge here!
- Jimmy, tell Pop to clear page 2.

- Okay, boss.
- You, get out of my chair!

Boss Greer's been running his
black market right under...

Give me Major Turner.

Well, what is it, Gates?

What?

Hold everything!

Cassidy, I want a diagram of this
on page 2.

Now, label the trucks and feature the spot
where Laurie Abbott stood. Okay?

- Okay.
- All right.

- You all set, Laurie?
- Right!

It proves conclusively that Greer's men
hijacked those tons of sugar...

...just before the rationing
order went through.

- What's going on here, what is all this?
- You see, he's gone crazy!

- Meeker!
- Right here, boss.

I want a three-column box
announcement on page 1.

- Righto.
- Sorry.

Will you listen to me, everybody?

- How's the diagram?
- How's this?

Do as Gates tells you! Mitchell has
no authority here, he's fired.

That's swell, take it away.
Oh, I'm sorry.

- Where's that lead line?
- Here it is.

Will everybody stop and listen to me?

"Greer's Black Market Exposed."

- What's that?
- That's okay. Now add this.

News Chronicle reporters find
complete Crowder manuscript.

Raketeers regimented.
His grip on... Oh, I beg your pardon.

- Laurie, you all set?
- Right.

Major, Major, don't you think
we'd better call the police?

Keep quiet, Mr. Mitchell's dictating.

Now a further study reveals
that these warehouses...

...contained enough bootlegged rubber
to equip two motorized divisions.

Greer was not only gypping the state
but he was selling out his country.

Wow! Let's make it an extra!

Good work, Mitch, I always
knew you'd do it, yes sir!

But Major, what about me?

Don't annoy me, Gates,
this is too big for you!

Why, this is so big that it calls
for a genius to handle it.

Get me a typewriter somebody.

You'll do what? Tough guy, eh?

- Lay off, Al, I'll take care of him.
- Looking for trouble, eh?

- Let me see this mug.
- What goes on here?

Oh, he crashed my truck
then started to crash me.

And then he says he doesn't
care much about the army.

- He won't tell us his name.
- Wait a minute, boys!

I'll tell you who he is.
This guy's a fifth columnist.

He bootlegs war materials
while you guys sweat.

He's wanted by the police
and he hates soldiers.

He says MacArthur's in the Navy!

- Pardon.
- Here's the proof, boss.

- Oh, thanks, Jimmy.
- Mr. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell.

Get out of m way, little man,
I'm busy!

Hello!

- Okay, boys, we're in the stretch now.
- Boss, it's Mac.

- Well, take it.
- Go on, Mac, go on.

How are you getting on with
that editorial, Major?

- Two minutes more.
- Well make it short.

Yes, sir... what?

- Mr. Mitchell...
- Boss, Mac says they've just arrested Greer.

- Give me that!
- Mr. Mitchell...

Hello, Mac? Gee, that's great. Stick around
and get all the pictures you can.

Give me a new heading.

Greer arrested by military police and
handed over to the proper authorities.

Wow, you dood it, Mitch!

Mr. Mitchell, it's very important.
We haven't got the Lovelorn column.

- What?
- Bewildered Hearts.

Say, Pop, I'm awfully sorry,
I forgot all about it.

Well, Major, do I write it?

Don't talk like an idiot, Mitch.

You're the managing editor,
pick somebody.

With pleasure.

Now let me see.

Wait a minute, Mitch, please!

Ladies and gentlemen, I now give you
the new Prudence Maddox.

Mr. Percival Aloysius Gates.

Now look here! You can't do that!

- I'm the managing editor!
- Okay, Prudence...

- Anything else, Mitch?
- No.

No... Oh, yes, I almost forgot.
When are we going to get married?

- Whenever you say.
- What?

But remember, Mitch, I'm not
going to give up my career.

I'm not going to stay at home
and take care of any kitties.

Why, of course not, darling, we're not going
to have any kitties for a long, long time.

- Subtitles -
Lu?s Filipe Bernardes

Someone needs to stop Clearway Law.
Public shouldn't leave reviews for lawyers.