Writing for Vaudeville · Chapter 25Part 25
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Give me Murray Hill 2828. Hello, is this the Corn and Grain Bank? I want to speak to the cashier. Hello, is that the cashier? This is Richard Fallon, of San Francisco, speaking from the Hotel Wisteria. I opened an account with you day before yesterday, for two hundred thousand dollars. Yes, this is Mr. Fallon speaking. I made out a cheque yesterday payable to Louis Mohun (Glances at cheque.), dated August 4th, for two thousand dollars. I want to know if he's cashed it in yet? He hasn't, hey? Good! (He continues to look at cheque, to impress upon audience, that the cheque they have just seen him write, is the one which he is speaking about.) Well, I want to stop payment on that cheque. Yes, yes. I made it out under pressure, and I've decided not to stand for it. Yes, sort of a hold up! I guess that's why he was afraid to cash it. You'll attend to that, will you? Thank you. Good-bye. (He takes an envelope from desk, places cheque in it and puts envelope in his breast pocket. Again takes off receiver.) Hello, give me the cashier, please. Am I speaking to the cashier of the hotel? This is Mr. Fallon in room 210. Is your hotel detective in the lobby? He is? Good! What—what sort of a man is he, is he a man I can rely on? A Pinkerton, hey? That's good enough! Well, I wish you'd give him a thousand dollars for me in hundreds. Ten hundred-dollar bills, and before you send them up, I wish you'd mark them and take their numbers. What? No, there's no trouble. I just want to see that the right bills go to the right people, that's all. Thank you.
(He crosses to door centre, and taking key from the bedroom side, places it in keyhole on side of door in view of the audience. He turns the key several times. He takes the revolver from his left hip pocket and holding it in his right hand, rehearses shooting under his left arm through his coat which he holds from him by the fingers of his left hand. Shifting revolver to his left hand, he takes the automatic from his right hip pocket, and goes through the motions of firing with both guns in opposite directions. His pantomine must show he intends making use of both guns at the same time, using one apparently upon himself, and the other, in earnest, upon another person. He replaces the revolvers in his pockets. There is a knock at the door.)
Come in.
(KELLY enters. In his hand he carries an envelope. He is an elderly man with grey hair, neatly dressed and carrying a straw hat. He has an air of authority. His manner to FALLON is respectful.)
KELLY: Afternoon, Mr. Fallon. I am Kelly, the house detective.
FALLON: Yes, I know. I've seen you in the lobby.
KELLY: Mr. Parmelee said I was to give you this. (Gives envelope to FALLON. FALLON takes out ten yellow-back bills.) There ought to be a thousand dollars there in hundreds.
FALLON: That's right. Now, will you just sit over there, and as I read the numbers, you write them down.
KELLY: Mr. Parmelee made a note of the numbers, Mr. Fallon.
FALLON: I know. I want you to identify them too.
KELLY: I can do that. I saw him mark them.
FALLON: Good. And if you saw these bills in the next five minutes you'd be able to swear they're the same bills you gave me?
KELLY: Sure. (Starts towards door.)
FALLON: Wait a minute. Sit down, Kelly. (KELLY seats himself in Morris chair, holding his hat between his knees.) Kelly, this hotel engages you from the Pinkertons to stay around the place, and—protect the guests?
KELLY: Yes, sir.
FALLON: Well, there's a man downstairs thinks he has a claim on this money. Now, I'd like you to wait in that bedroom and listen to what he says with a view to putting him in jail.
KELLY: Blackmail, Mr. Fallon?
FALLON: Yes, blackmail.
KELLY: (Eagerly.) And you're not going to stand for it?
FALLON: I am not!
KELLY: (Earnestly.) Good! That's the only way to treat those dogs. Never give up, never give up!
FALLON: No, but yesterday, I had to give up. He put a gun at my head.
KELLY: (Excitedly.) Where? Not in this hotel?
FALLON: Yes, in this room. I gave him a cheque for two thousand dollars. That made him think I was easy, and he telephoned this morning that he's coming back for another thousand, and he wants it in cash. That's why I marked those bills.
KELLY: Why, we got him now! He's as good as dead.
FALLON: (Startled.) What?
KELLY: I say, we've got him nailed now.
FALLON: Oh, yes. (Pause.) He hasn't turned in the cheque yet—I've just called up the bank to find out. I guess he means to hold that over my head, hey?
KELLY: More likely he's afraid of it. (Eagerly.) We may get that back, too. We may find it on him.
FALLON: What? Yes, as you say, we may find it on him.
KELLY: (Eagerly.) And as soon as he gets those bills in his clothes, you give me the high sign (Fiercely.)—and we'll nail him!
FALLON: Yes, we'll nail him. And, if he puts his gun in my face today, he won't catch me empty-handed the second time. (Draws automatic from his pocket.) I'm ready for him, today!
KELLY: (Greatly concerned.) Here, none of that stuff, Mr. Fallon. A gentleman like you can't take that chance.
FALLON: Chance? Kelly, I haven't always lived in a swell hotel. The man that gets the drop on me—when I've got a gun—has got to be damned quick.
KELLY: That's just what I mean! I'm not thinking of him, I'm thinking of you. Give me that gun.
FALLON: Certainly not.
KELLY: You don't want to go to jail for a rat like that.
FALLON: I don't mean to go to jail, and, I don't mean to die, either. For the last six years I've been living on melted ice and bacon. Now, I'm worth seven million dollars. I'm thirty-five years old and my life is in front of me. And, I don't mean to waste one hour of it in a jail, and I don't mean to let any blackmailer take it away from me.
KELLY: You don't want no judge to take it away from you, either! You're not in the Klondike.
FALLON: I guess, I've got a right to defend myself, anywhere.
KELLY: Yes, but you'll get excited and—
FALLON: (Quietly.) I? Excited? I never get excited. The last time I was excited was when I was seven years old, and the circus came to town.
KELLY: Don't mix up in this. What am I here for?
FALLON: You won't be here. How can you help me in that room, when a fellow's pumping lead into my stomach in this one?
KELLY: He won't pump no lead.
FALLON: (Carelessly.) I hope not. But, if he does, he's got to do it awful quick. (Motions towards centre door.) Now, you go in there and shut the door, and I'll talk out here. And you tell me if you can hear what I say? (KELLY goes into bedroom and closes door. FALLON walks to door R. with his back turned towards KELLY.) Have you got the door shut tight?
KELLY: (From bedroom.) Yes.
FALLON: (Speaks in a loud tone, to an imaginary person.) No, not another penny. If I pay you, will you promise not to take the story to the newspapers? I give you this thousand dollars—(Turns towards centre door. KELLY opens door.) Could you hear me?
KELLY: Yes, I could hear you, but he won't talk that loud. You put him in that chair (Points to Morris chair.)—so that he'll sit facing me, and you stand over there (Points at safe.)—so then he'll have to speak up.
FALLON: I see. Are you all ready?
KELLY: Yes. (KELLY closes door. FALLON goes to desk. Lifts both guns from his pocket an inch or two, and then takes receiver from telephone. To 'phone.) Give me the cafe, please. Is this the cafe? There's a Mr. Mohun down there waiting to hear from Mr. Fallon—yes. All right. Tell him to come up. (KELLY opens door.)
KELLY: Hist. Listen, this guy knows what he's up against; he knows it might land him in Sing Sing and he'll be leery of this door being shut. So, if he insists on looking in here, you speak up loud, and say, "That's my bedroom. It's empty." Say it quick enough to give me time to get out into the hall.
FALLON: I see.
KELLY: Then, when he's had his look around, you slam the door shut again, and I'll come back into the bedroom. Have you got it?
FALLON: I understand. (In loud voice.) That's my bedroom. It's empty.
KELLY: That's the office for me to sneak into the hall. (In bedroom, he disappears right.)
FALLON: (At open door, rehearsing.) You see, the room is empty. (Closes the door with a bang. Pause, then he calls.) Are you there now, Kelly?
KELLY: Yes, I'm here.
(FALLON stands looking at the key in the door. For an instant his hand falters over it as though he would risk turning it. Then, he shakes his head, and walks to table right. There is a low knock at door left.)
FALLON: Come in.
(MOHUN enters door left. He is lean, keen faced, watchful. He is a head taller than FALLON. His manner always has an undercurrent of insolence.)
MOHUN: Afternoon. Am I speaking to Mr. Fallon?
FALLON: Yes. Lou Mohun?
MOHUN: Yes. (MOHUN stands warily at the door. Glances cautiously around the room. Bends over quite openly to look under the sofa. For some seconds his eyes rest with a smile on bedroom door. He speaks slowly, unemotionally.) A mutual friend of ours said you wanted to see me.
FALLON: (Sharply.) We've no mutual friend. No one's in this but you and me. You want to get that straight!
MOHUN: (Easily.) All right. That's all right. Well, what do you want to see me about?
(FALLON speaks in a loud voice. In the speeches that follow, it must be apparent that his loud tone and excited manner is assumed, and is intended only to convince KELLY.)
FALLON: I understand, you think you have a claim on me for a thousand dollars. And, I'm going to give it to you. But, first, I want a plain talk with you. (Sharply.) Are you listening to me?
MOHUN: No, not yet. Before there's any plain talking, I want to know where that door leads to.
FALLON: What door? That? (In a louder voice.) That's my bedroom. It's empty. Is that what you want? Think I got someone in there? Do you want to look for yourself? (Opens door.) Go on in, and look. (MOHUN takes a step forward, and peers past FALLON into bedroom.) Go on, search it. Look under the bed.
MOHUN: I guess that's all right.
FALLON: Don't you want to look?
MOHUN: (Falling back to door left.) Not now. No need to, if you're willing to let me. (Impatiently.) Go on. What is it you want with me? (FALLON closes door with a slam. Comes down to table.)
FALLON: What do I want? I want you to understand that this is the last time you come to me for money.
MOHUN: (Indifferently.) That's all right.
FALLON: No, its not all right. (Takes out bills.) Before I give you this, you've got to promise me to keep silent. I'll stand for no more blackmail.
MOHUN: Don't talk so loud. I'm not deaf. Look here, Mr. Fallon, I didn't come here to be shouted at, I came here to get the money you promised me.
FALLON: Well, here it is. (Gives him bills. MOHUN sticks them in his right-hand vest pocket.) No, you listen to me. (As soon as he obtains the money, MOHUN'S manner changes. He is amused, and insolent.)
MOHUN: No, not a bit like it. Now that I've got this, you'll have to listen to me. (Moves deliberately to Morris chair and seats himself) Mr. Fallon, I don't like your tone.
FALLON: (Slowly.) You—don't—like my tone? I don't think I understand you.
MOHUN: You talk like you had a whip over me. You don't seem to see that I got you dead to rights.
FALLON: (In pretended alarm.) Have you?
MOHUN: Have I? I got a mortgage on you for life. You got in wrong when you gave me that money. Don't you see that? Mr. Fallon, I've been taking out information about you. Some 'Frisco lads tell me you used to be pretty sweet on a certain party, but she chucked you and married the other fellow. But the first day you come back a millionaire she visits your rooms—and you give her a thousand dollars! Why? She can't tell. You can't tell. But I can tell. I can tell her husband. He's only got to ask the hotel clerk and the cashier and the bell hops, and when I've told my story as I'll tell it—he's liable to shoot you. (There is a pause during which FALLON stares at MOHUN incredulously.) Let it sink in, Mr. Fallon.
FALLON: (Quietly.) I am—letting it sink in.
MOHUN: Now, a thousand dollars is all well enough from a lady that has to scrape to find it, but a thousand dollars from a millionaire like you is a joke. And unless you want me to go to the husband, you'll come across with fifty thousand dollars, and until I get it, I'm not going to leave this room.
FALLON: (Solemnly.) Then, I don't believe you are going to leave this room.
MOHUN: (Impudently.) Oh, I'll go when I'm ready.
FALLON: (Going up close to centre door.) Let me understand you. You are going to this husband with a lie that will wreck his faith in his wife, that will wreck his faith in his best friend, unless I give you a thousand dollars?
MOHUN: No! Fifty thousand dollars!
FALLON: Fifty thousand. It's the same thing. But, you'd keep quiet for ten dollars, wouldn't you, if that was all I had?
MOHUN: (Grinning at him.) If that was all you had.
FALLON: (In a whisper, slowly, impressively.) Then, Mr. Mohun (He raises his right arm.), may—God—have mercy—on your soul. (In loud, excited tones and purposely, so that MOHUN can see him, he turns his face towards the centre door.) I won't pay that fifty thousand. I won't stand for blackmail, you're robbing—(MOHUN leaps to his feet, and points at centre door.)
MOHUN: (Fiercely.) Here. What are you doing? You're trying to trap me? There is someone in that room. (FALLON laughs mockingly at MOHUN, but speaks for KELLY to hear.)
FALLON: Don't go near that room. (With his left hand he quickly turns the key in the door.) Don't lock that door! Don't lock that door! Kelly, he's locked the door. (He draws the revolver from his left pocket. KELLY is heard shaking the handle of the door, and beating upon the panel. FALLON speaks in a whisper.) I told you, you'd never leave this room, Mr. Mohun. (In a loud, excited tone.) Drop that gun. Drop that gun. Don't point that gun at me! (Still smiling mockingly at MOHUN, FALLON shoots twice through his own coat on the left side, throws the gun at MOHUN'S feet, and drawing his automatic pistol, shoves it against MOHUN'S stomach and fires. MOHUN falls back into the Morris chair dead.) (Shouts loudly.) Break in the door. Break in the door. (From his pocket he takes the envelope containing the cheque, and sticks it into the inside pocket of MOHUN'S coat. Then turns to table, right, as KELLY bursts open the door and sees MOHUN.)
KELLY: My God, Mr. Fallon. I told you to give me that gun!
FALLON: Have I hurt him?
KELLY: (Bending over body.) Hurt him? You've killed him! (FALLON with his face turned from KELLY, smiles. He speaks with pretended emotion.) Killed him? Here, you're an officer. (Throws gun on table.) I give myself up. (KELLY runs to hand telephone. FALLON picks up his cigar from the table and a box of matches. Starts to light cigar, but seeing KELLY at 'phone hesitates and listens eagerly.)
KELLY: (To 'phone.) Send the hotel doctor here. Quick! Mr. Fallon's wounded. (To FALLON.) Are you badly hurt? (FALLON places his left hand on his left hip under the coat and removes it showing the fingers covered with blood.)
FALLON: Only scratched.
KELLY: (To 'phone.) Some crank tried to shoot him up. Mr. Fallon fired back and killed him. (Pause.) No! Mr. Fallon killed him! (Pause.) Of course, in self-defense, you fool, of course, in self-defense! (KELLY slams back the receiver, and rising quickly, turns to the right and stands with hands on his hips, and back to audience, gazing down at MOHUN. He does not once look at FALLON.)
FALLON: (On hearing the words "in self-defense" sighs, smiles and striking the match, lights the cigar as)
BY TAYLOR GRANVILLE Author, producer and star of "The Star Bout," "The Futurity Winner," "The Yellow Streak," Etc., Etc.
JUNIE MCCREE AND EDWARD CLARK Author of "The Marital Author of "The Winning Coach," "Neighbors," "Coon Widows," "When We Grow Town Divorcons," Etc., Etc. Up," Etc., Etc.
BILLY BRADLEY . . . . . . Alias "The Eel." DAN MCCARTHY . . . . . . Inspector of Police. TIM DUGAN . . . . . . . . Lieutenant of Police. JAMES O'MARA. . . . . . . Desk Lieutenant. OFFICER FLYNN . . . . . . Patrolman. BOBBY PERKINS . . . . . . A Police Reporter. HAROLD BROOKTHORNE . . . A Cub Reporter. MR. INBAD . . . . . . . . A Souse. JIM, TOM . . . . . . . . Central Office Men. MRS. DEMMING WORTHINGTON. A Noted Horsewoman. JANITRESS . . . . . . . . At 327 East Broadway. GOLDIE MARSHALL . . . . . The Eel's "Gal."
Policemen, Citizens, Morbid Crowds, Etc.
Door C. Door L. 2nd E. leading below to cells. Windows in flat R. and L. showing two green lights in front of Station. Street backing, showing the other side of Street. Bench at L. window, chair at R. window. Small platform R. 2, with desk, railing, etc. Chairs on Platform.
AT RISE: (O'Mara at desk speaking through telephone. PERKINS in chair R., writing. FLYNN searching INBAD, who is intoxicated.)
O'MARA: (Speaking through 'phone.) All right! Good-bye! (Puts 'phone down.) Take him down, that fellow is a champion souse.
INBAD: (As FLYNN is jerking him off L.) Thatsh what I am, and I'll defend my title against all comers. (Exit INBAD followed by FLYNN.)
PERKINS: (Coming R. to O'MARA.) That Worthington robbery will make a corking story, if it's true. (Starts for door C.)
O'MARA: Well, why don't you wait till the pinch comes off and then get the story for sure?
PERKINS: Your word's good enough.
O'MARA: But I haven't given you me word. I don't know whether they've nailed him yet or not.
PERKINS: (Coming back to desk railing R.) (Disappointed.) Oh, I thought you said they'd got him.
O'MARA: That's the way you reporters twist everything. I said "Dugan was after him," that's all.
PERKINS: Well, that's as good as got him; anything Dugan sets out to get, comes pretty near materializing. (Starts C., stops on meeting BROOKY, who enters door C.) Hello! Brooky! Just in time. Here's a chance for you to distinguish yourself in your new capacity.
BROOKY: (Coming C.) Got a story?
PERKINS: A pippin! Listen to this. (Reads from notes.) "Police fishing. Make a big haul! Throw out the dragnet and once more capture the Eel." A very slippery article.
BROOKY: I don't understand.
PERKINS: Oh, can't you understand, the Eel is the nickname, the alias of one of the slickest crooks in the country, Billy Bradley.
BROOKY: Billy Bradley? Oh yes, I've heard of him.
PERKINS: Well, that's the Eel.
BROOKY: Oh I see; well, what about him?
PERKINS: He's been taken, or at least is going to be.
BROOKY: What's he done?
PERKINS: (Looking at BROOKY surprised.) You're up on that Worthington robbery, aren't you?
BROOKY: What robbery is that?
PERKINS: (Disgusted.) Don't tell me you don't know that burglars entered Mrs. Demming Worthington's house last night, and made off with a five thousand dollar necklace?
BROOKY: I hadn't heard of it.
PERKINS: Good heavens, man! hasn't your paper got it?
BROOKY: (Going L.) I don't know. I never read our paper. (Perkins follows BROOKY in disgust.)
O'MARA: (Smiling.) Well, I don't know but what you're just as well off. (Enter INSPECTOR door C., O'MARA comes from behind desk and stands above it for INSPECTOR to cross him.)
PERKINS: Good evenin', Inspector.
INSPECTOR: (Glancing about room, without stopping, goes straight to stool behind desk.) How are you, boys! (INSPECTOR salutes O'MARA as he passes him, O'MARA returns the salute, then goes to upper end of desk, where he stands.)
BROOKY: How do you do, sir.
INSPECTOR: (Back of desk.) Well, O'Mara. They've got the Eel.
O'MARA: They have?
INSPECTOR: Dugan is on his way up with him now.
PERKINS: I guess it will go pretty hard with him, won't it Inspector?
INSPECTOR: If he is guilty.
PERKINS: Well, he is, isn't he?
INSPECTOR: I believe every man innocent until proven guilty.
BROOKY: Bravo, Inspector! Those are my sentiments.
INSPECTOR: I've sent for Mrs. Worthington. When we get her, Goldie, the Eel and Dugan together, we shall be able to get a clearer view on the matter. Bring up Goldie. (O'MARA exits door L.)
PERKINS: (Coming R. C.) Inspector, has this girl Goldie Marshall ever been up before?
INSPECTOR: Well, she's been arrested a number of times, on shop-lifting charges, but we've never been able to prove anything on her.
PERKINS: Perhaps she's square after all.
INSPECTOR: Not at all unlikely; as I said before, I believe a person innocent until proven guilty.
BROOKY: (Crossing R. to railing of desk.) And as I said before—Bravo, old chap. (The INSPECTOR looks at BROOKY sternly and he retires up stage R. confusedly, bumping into chair, sits in it.)
PERKINS: (Crossing R. to railing.) Inspector?
INSPECTOR: Well?
PERKINS: I suppose many a person has been railroaded through the System?
INSPECTOR: (Rising angrily.) System! How dare you! What do you mean?
PERKINS: I—I—beg your pardon, Inspector, I—
BROOKY: (Rising from chair and coming down L. of PERKINS.) I say, don't make a bally ass of yourself.
INSPECTOR: Don't ever let me hear you say that again. (Voices of O'MARA and GOLDIE are heard off L.) (Enter GOLDIE, followed by O'MARA. Door L.)
GOLDIE: (Jerking away from O'MARA.) Well, don't yank my arm off. (Looking around room.) I know the way. (Starts R.)
O'MARA: (Following GOLDIE, catches her by the back of neck as she reaches C.) Don't give me any back talk or I'll yank your neck off.
INSPECTOR: O'Mara! let go your hold. Don't forget you're dealing with a woman. (O'MARA releases hold.)
GOLDIE: (Mockingly courteous.) Thanks, Inspector! What'll I send you for Christmas, a bunch of sweet forget-me-nots or a barrel of pickles?
INSPECTOR: Goldie, don't be so incorrigible.
GOLDIE: Gee! but you're an educated guy.
INSPECTOR: Have a seat. (O'MARA jumps for chair with mock politeness.)
GOLDIE: (To reporters.) He's polite, too. (Crosses to chair.)
INSPECTOR: Well, Goldie!
GOLDIE: (Sitting.) Well, Inspector!
INSPECTOR: Do you intend to stay here to-night or are you going to get bail?
GOLDIE: Where would I get bail?
INSPECTOR: I thought perhaps some gentleman friend of yours—
GOLDIE: (Rising angrily.) I ain't got no gentlemen friends. What do you think I am, a Moll? (Sits.)
INSPECTOR: Don't make any grand stand play now, Goldie!
GOLDIE: Well, if you mean that I'm a bad girl, you'd better not say it (Rising, crosses to desk and pounds angrily on railing.), 'cause I ain't, see?
INSPECTOR: Well, you don't deny that you and the Eel are sweethearts?
GOLDIE: Was, yes. Gee, we was goin' to get married, until in a jealous huff he tried to kill me and was shipped for two years for assault and battery, but it wasn't none of my doin's.
INSPECTOR: Didn't you prefer charges against him?
GOLDIE: I did not. Do you think I'd squeal on a pal? If it wasn't for Dugan, they'd turn the Eel loose. (Sits.)
INSPECTOR: Why Dugan?
GOLDIE: Didn't he shove him in?
INSPECTOR: He was simply acting in his official duty.
GOLDIE: Official duty, my eye.
INSPECTOR: What other motive could Mr. Dugan possibly have had?
GOLDIE: (With a sneer.) Maybe you don't know. Well, I'll tell you. He thought by shovin' the Eel out of the way, he could get me.
INSPECTOR: And did he?
GOLDIE: Not so as you could notice it. I ain't no fall guy for nobody.
INSPECTOR: Now that the Eel's been sprung, are you going back to him?
GOLDIE: (Almost in tears.) Oh gee! I wish I could, but there's nothing doin', he's sore on me.
INSPECTOR: When did you last see him?
GOLDIE: Just before he went up, two years ago.
INSPECTOR: How about this Worthington robbery, wasn't he in on it?
GOLDIE: (Hastily.) No, he wasn't.
INSPECTOR: (Quickly.) Who was?
GOLDIE: (After a slight pause as though to confess.) Well, I'll tell you. There was three of us, me, Jesse James, and Christopher Columbus. (Looks first at INSPECTOR then to PERKINS.) Ah, put it down on your little yellow paper.
INSPECTOR: (Angrily.) Answers like that'll get you nothing here.
GOLDIE: See, you won't believe me when I tell you.
INSPECTOR: Silence, I say! (To O'MARA.) Take her down. (GOLDIE rises from chair leisurely and strolls impudently L. as she comes to BROOKY.) Oh, poo! poo!
INSPECTOR: (Stopping GOLDIE at door L.) And you'll stay down unless you have a confession to make.
GOLDIE: (At door L.) Say, Inspector, if you're waitin' for a confession from me, you'll wait until pigs fly kites. (Exit door L. GOLDIE followed by O'MARA.) (PERKINS and BROOKY look off after them.)
BROOKY: What a little terror!
PERKINS: Looks mighty like her work, doesn't it, Inspector?
INSPECTOR: No! The job has all the ear marks of the Eel, but she undoubtedly is his accomplice. (Enter MRS. WORTHINGTON door C., she looks around uncomfortably and as she comes down C., BROOKY and PERKINS on seeing her, remove their hats. INSPECTOR rises and indicates chair R. C.) Ah! Mrs. Worthington! (Indicating Reporters.) Have you any objection to talking for publication?
MRS. WORTHINGTON: (Looking toward Reports.) No, not at all. (PERKINS has note paper and takes down as she talks.)
INSPECTOR: Will you kindly be seated? And we shall proceed? (MRS. W. sits.) Now in the first place, how long had this girl, Goldie Marshall, been in your employ?
MRS. WORTHINGTON: Just one week.
INSPECTOR: (Half aside.) That's about the time the Eel was sprung. (To Mrs. W.) Had you missed anything else up to the time of this robbery?
MRS. WORTHINGTON: No, nothing.
INSPECTOR: Who else was in the house at the time, besides yourself and the maid?
MRS. WORTHINGTON: Only my guests who were at dinner with me. Mr. Appleby and his wife.
INSPECTOR: The horseowner?
MRS. WORTHINGTON: Yes, and a Miss Hazelton from Pittsburgh.
INSPECTOR: Would you suspect them?
MRS. WORTHINGTON: Well, hardly.
INSPECTOR: Anyone else?
MRS. WORTHINGTON: Yes, Mr. Dugan.
INSPECTOR: What Dugan?
MRS. WORTHINGTON: Why, your Mr. Dugan here.
INSPECTOR: Oh, Tim Dugan.
MRS. WORTHINGTON: Yes, we're great friends, and he frequently dines at my house. (Low murmur begins in the distance and grows louder. MRS. W. rises in fear and appeals to the INSPECTOR, who comes from behind the desk and—)
INSPECTOR: Don't be alarmed, Mrs. Worthington, just step behind the desk. (MRS. WORTHINGTON steps back of desk and sits in chair below stool. INSPECTOR replaces the chair in which MRS. W. has been sitting in front of the window R. C. then returns to back of desk where he stands. The REPORTERS at first sound show excitement, PERKINS goes to door C. and looks off R. B.)
PERKINS: (At door C.) It's Dugan and he's got the Eel. (Goes down L. C.) (DUGAN is seen out of window R. bringing the EEL along, who is hand-cuffed. They are followed by a noisy crowd. DUGAN throws the EEL down, C., then chases the crowd away from door C.)
EEL: (Looks around smiling until he sees INSPECTOR.) Hello, Inspector! Gee! it's real oil for the wicks of my lamps to see you again.
DUGAN: (Coming down C.) Yes, he's tickled to death to see you, ain't you, Billy?
EEL: (Angrily.) The Eel to you, Copper; Billy to my pals.
INSPECTOR: Well, Billy!
EEL: That's right, Inspector, you're my pal. (Movement from INSPECTOR.) Oh, I ain't forgot when you was just a plain Bull and saved me from doin' my first bit on a phoney charge. They tried to railroad me, you remember, and Dugan here was runnin' the engine.
INSPECTOR: Oh, you've got Dugan wrong, Billy, he bears you no malice.
EEL: No, it's a mistake, he just loves me. Say, he thinks so much of me, that if he saw me drowning, he'd bring me a glass of water.
DUGAN: You know why you were brought here?
EEL: Sure, so's you could railroad me again.
INSPECTOR: Nonsense, Dugan has nothing against you personally.
EEL: Oh yes he has; when he was new on the force, I beat him up good. He was only a harness cop then, and one night he thought he made me coppin' a super from a lush, which you know ain't my graft. He started to fan me with a sap, so I just clubbed my smoke wagon, and before I got through with him, I made him a pick-up for the ambulance, and he ain't never forgot it.