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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77807 ***
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+                         GODS OF THE LIGHTNING
+
+                           OUTSIDE LOOKING IN
+
+                         _Two Three-act Plays_
+
+
+                        LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.
+                       55 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
+                     221 EAST 20TH STREET, CHICAGO
+                         TREMONT TEMPLE, BOSTON
+                      210 VICTORIA STREET, TORONTO
+
+                      LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO. LTD.
+                   39 PATERNOSTER ROW, E C 4, LONDON
+                         53 NICOL ROAD, BOMBAY
+                   6 OLD COURT HOUSE STREET, CALCUTTA
+                         167 MOUNT ROAD, MADRAS
+
+
+
+
+                         GODS OF THE LIGHTNING
+
+
+                                   BY
+                            MAXWELL ANDERSON
+                                  AND
+                            HAROLD HICKERSON
+
+
+                           OUTSIDE LOOKING IN
+
+
+                                   BY
+                            MAXWELL ANDERSON
+                BASED ON “BEGGARS OF LIFE,” BY JIM TULLY
+
+
+                        LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.
+                      LONDON · NEW YORK · TORONTO
+                                  1928
+
+
+                          ANDERSON & HICKERSON
+                          GODS OF THE LIGHTNING
+
+                           OUTSIDE LOOKING IN
+
+                             COPYRIGHT, 1928
+                       BY LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.
+
+                              FIRST EDITION
+
+
+  THESE PLAYS ARE FULLY PROTECTED BY THE COPYRIGHT LAWS AND NO AMATEUR
+     PERFORMANCE, RADIO BROADCASTING, PUBLIC READING, RECITATION, OR
+ PRESENTATION OF ANY KIND MAY BE GIVEN WITHOUT THE WRITTEN PERMISSION OF
+           LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO., 55 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
+
+
+                  MADE IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+                         GODS OF THE LIGHTNING
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+                                THE CAST
+
+                  SUVORIN
+                  HEINE
+                  ROSALIE
+                  MACREADY
+                  ANDY
+                  IKE
+                  SPIKER
+                  PETE
+                  MILKIN
+                  SOWERBY
+                  BAUER
+                  CAPRARO
+                  POLICEMEN, COURT ATTENDANTS, JURYMEN
+                  SALTER
+                  MRS. LUBIN
+                  HASLET
+                  BARTLET
+                  GLUCKSTEIN
+                  WARD
+                  JUDGE VAIL
+                  LUBIN
+                  HENRY
+                  SALVATION LASSIE
+                  JERUSALEM SLIM
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+                         GODS OF THE LIGHTNING
+
+
+                                 ACT I
+
+
+_Scene: The scene is the restaurant in the Labor Lyceum building of a
+city on the eastern seaboard._
+
+_At the right is a large window facing on the street, and at the right
+rear an outside entrance. At the left a door leads to an inner hall and
+the stairway to the upper floors. Along about half of the rear wall at
+the right runs a counter with a coffee urn and the usual display of
+quick lunch foods. A swinging door back of the counter leads to a small
+kitchen. There are folding doors in the rear wall at the left, opening
+on a hall used for labor meetings. There are tables and chairs for the
+customers of the restaurant. In the left rear corner there is a table
+covered with books and pamphlets and another which holds a chess-board.
+A large clock hangs on the rear wall. The hands point to ten-twenty. It
+is dark outside._
+
+_Pete, the counter-man, swabs off the top of his counter and goes into
+the kitchen. Suvorin, a solid bulk of a man, with a satanic, dominating
+face, sits in the left rear corner, his chair tilted against the wall.
+His eyes are fixed on the floor. Heine, a disreputable figure enters
+from the street and looks furtively about him, glancing back at the
+window._
+
+  SUVORIN [_without moving_]. What are you doing here?
+
+  HEINE. Am I going to leave town without getting mine?
+
+  SUVORIN. You’ll get yours fast enough if you hang around here.
+
+  HEINE. How much was it?
+
+  SUVORIN. $28,000.
+
+  HEINE. Where’s mine?
+
+  SUVORIN. That’s half.
+
+  HEINE. How much?
+
+  SUVORIN. Fourteen. Take it and get out. You’d better beat it into
+    Canada and stay there. You’re a fool and a bungler. If you’d
+    followed instructions you’d have been safe.
+
+  HEINE. I had to do it. He was jumping at me.
+
+  SUVORIN. Take your money and to hell with you. You’re a fool. Are they
+    trailing you?
+
+  HEINE. No.
+
+  SUVORIN. You wouldn’t know.
+
+  HEINE. Jesus, I’d know that.
+
+  SUVORIN. Don’t go out that way. Go upstairs and out the back. There’s
+    an alley into Clark Street. Cross the line and for God’s sake use
+    your head.
+
+  HEINE [_going to lefthand door_]. Good-bye, Sport.
+
+  SUVORIN. Get out.
+
+  [_Heine goes out. Before the door has quite closed, Rosalie enters
+    from the left, evidently passing Heine. She is a beautiful girl with
+    a childlike Russian face._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Who was that? Has he any business here?
+
+  [_Suvorin, seating himself, pays no attention to the question. One of
+    the folding doors opens and Ward enters and closes the door._]
+
+  WARD. Mac here yet?
+
+  SUVORIN. No.
+
+  WARD. Hell! Have you seen him this evening, Rosalie?
+
+  ROSALIE. No.
+
+  WARD. Oh, that’s right, you—
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes?
+
+  WARD. Never mind.
+
+  [_He goes back through the doors. Mac enters from the street._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Oh, Mac, where were you? I’ve been terrified!
+
+  MAC. [_Thrusting a revolver into her hands._] Hello, kid. Put that
+    away for me, will you, kid?
+
+  ROSALIE. But—whose is it?
+
+  MAC. That’s all right—I don’t want to carry it—that’s all.
+
+  [_Ward re-enters, cramming his hat on._]
+
+  WARD. Say, Mac, I thought you’d been picked up.
+
+  MAC. Do you need me in there yet?
+
+  WARD. You’d better come in just so they’ll know you’re here.
+
+  MAC. How’s it going?
+
+  WARD. They’re scared. Three men killed and about fifty in the
+    hospital. You might be able to hold ’em if you put it to ’em just
+    right. Otherwise we’re licked.
+
+  MAC. Oh, no. We’ve got another card up our sleeves. Is Andy in there?
+
+  WARD. He’s waiting for you. Listen—there’s some talk about a raid
+    tonight—maybe more than one—
+
+  ROSALIE. Say, Ward—if that’ll keep I want to talk to Mac a minute. Do
+    you mind?
+
+  WARD. All right. I’ll tell Andy you’re here.
+
+  [_He goes. Again part of a speech is heard._]
+
+  THE SPEAKER. And now they ask us to vote another five thousand for
+    relief! Where are we going to get five thousand? [_The door
+    closes._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Now then—
+
+  MAC. Now then—
+
+  ROSALIE. This is no place for you tonight.
+
+  MAC. I knew it was coming.
+
+  ROSALIE. And you’re to beat it and stay under cover till they forget
+    about this afternoon—
+
+  MAC. What do you know about this afternoon?
+
+  ROSALIE. I read about it—and my opinion is that you’ve done enough for
+    one day. They can get along without you here.
+
+  MAC. It just happens they can’t get along without me.
+
+  ROSALIE. You won’t be much good to them in jail—
+
+  MAC. I’m not going to jail—so get that out of your head—
+
+  ROSALIE. Mac, you’re a child—
+
+  MAC. You’re pretty young yourself, you know. [_Andy enters._] Hello,
+    Andy.
+
+  ANDY. Looks like they was going to vote us down.
+
+  MAC. And then what?
+
+  ANDY. What do you say?
+
+  MAC. If you boys’ll stay with me you know what we can do.
+
+  ANDY. I’ll tell you how it is, Mac. We want to stay, see? I saw two or
+    three of the boys before the meeting. They aren’t scared worth a
+    damn, because we licked the company once before and we can do it
+    again. They can’t operate without engineers.
+
+  MAC. I knew we could count on you.
+
+  ANDY. Well, wait a minute, Mac. Get us right. If the longshoremen go
+    back tomorrow and we stay out it’ll take ’em a couple of weeks to
+    pick up enough engineers to get along, see?
+
+  MAC. Right.
+
+  ANDY. All right. But in a couple of weeks they could do it—and we’d be
+    left holding the bag. See? So we figure this way. The mills are
+    holding a strike meeting tonight. If the mills go out and the
+    engineers stay out, why the longshoremen they won’t be much good
+    around the docks, and they’ll walk out again. But if the mills keep
+    going, we don’t want to try it alone.
+
+  MAC. Don’t worry. The mills are going out.
+
+  ANDY. Can I tell the boys you said that?
+
+  MAC. I want you to tell them I said it.
+
+  ANDY. All right. We’ll have a meeting upstairs right after this
+    jamboree’s over in here, see? Will you wait for me here?
+
+  MAC. Yeah.
+
+  [_Andy goes out._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Now you’ll have to wait here—right where they’ll be looking
+    for you—
+
+  MAC. I’ve got to hold the thing together.
+
+  ROSALIE. But use your head—
+
+  MAC. I am using it. I know it’s a risk to be here, but if I can pull
+    this strike through it’s worth it—
+
+  ROSALIE. Let them lose their strike—
+
+  MAC. Be reasonable—
+
+  ROSALIE. Anything you can do somebody else could do for you! I’ll get
+    rid of the gun for you—and you’ll disappear for a couple of weeks!
+    Do you think it’s reasonable for you to wander in here with a gun in
+    your pocket and half the police in town laying for you?
+
+  MAC. You certainly do feel old tonight, don’t you, kid?
+
+  ROSALIE. It’s enough to make anybody feel old. I’ve lived about a
+    thousand years today—I wish this strike had never started, or it was
+    over, or we could get away somewhere—
+
+  MAC. That wouldn’t help. Everywhere I go there’s a strike. I seem to
+    take ’em with me. You’ll have to get used to that.
+
+  ROSALIE. Can’t you play safe, just this once? Can’t you do that much
+    for me?
+
+  MAC. You heard what I said to Andy. The company thinks it’s got us in
+    a corner and I’m going to prove it’s wrong, that’s all. [_He stoops
+    and kisses her briefly as the folding doors open and Ward looks
+    in._]
+
+  WARD. You’d better come on in. Spiker isn’t going so well.
+
+  MAC. Yeah. Don’t worry, kid. We’ll be all right.
+
+  [_The voice of Spiker is heard._]
+
+  SPIKER [_inside_]. I’ll tell you what I think—I think you’re too easy—
+
+  A HECKLER [_inside_]. When did you ever work on the docks?
+
+  [_Mac and Ward enter the hall just as Ike and Milkin emerge, evidently
+    shoved out of the meeting._]
+
+  IKE [_as the door closes on him_]. Long live the freedom of loose
+    talk! Why should they put me out? I was a longshoreman before most
+    of those guys cut their first knee-pants! They wasn’t even alive in
+    ’97. They ain’t never seen hard times. I was born during the
+    glorious second administration of General Grant, the most stupendous
+    period of graft and prosperity this country has ever seen—with the
+    solitary and luminous exception of Warren Gamaliel Harding! [_He
+    goes to the counter with Milkin._] Where’s Pete? [_He addresses the
+    hole in the wall through which food is pushed out from the
+    kitchen._] Hey, cuckoo, cuckoo, we want coffee!
+
+  PETE [_looking out_]. What you want?
+
+  IKE. A slug of coffee, cuckoo!
+
+  PETE. We don’t cash checks.
+
+  IKE. You pay this time, Milkin. I lent all my money to a comrade. You
+    can’t trust these revolutionists.
+
+  MILKIN. You didn’t have no money.
+
+  IKE. I had fifty cents this morning, and I gave it to a guy under
+    guise of introducing me to a jane. But he weaseled me, at that.
+
+  MILKIN. Dat’s all right. Only don’t try to fool me.
+
+  IKE. You mean I was lying?
+
+  MILKIN. I can see right into your mind. I can see what you’re
+    thinking.
+
+  PETE. Yeah?
+
+  IKE. Yes, sir. And if you don’t hurry up and give us coffee we’ll put
+    the black art on you.
+
+  PETE. I lost tree dollar on you for a check.
+
+  MILKIN [_laying a bill on the counter_]. Dat’s all right. [_Pete draws
+    coffee for two._] We wouldn’t put no black art on you. We wouldn’t
+    do nothing like that.
+
+  IKE. No, we wouldn’t do that. Only we could, see? I could, too.
+
+  MILKIN. I don’t tink you could. Not widout de cabalistic sign.
+
+  IKE. You gave me the sign, mystic?
+
+  MILKIN. Yeah, but you don’t know how to apply it!
+
+  IKE. Yes, sir—it comes natural to me. I can handle the black art sign
+    like a plate of beans, and right after you give it to me I could
+    tell any man in the street what he was thinking. Just like that!
+    Won’t that be good when we get it working in politics? Jeez, that’s
+    a highly mystical sign!
+
+  MILKIN. Only remember, if you got it you don’t work it for nutting but
+    de best interests of de State.
+
+  IKE. Sure, the best interest of the State—
+
+  MILKIN [_with emphasis_]. And wait! Wait! Bide your time. And when you
+    find a man in high office what don’t belong dere, level your finger
+    at him and say to him— “Come down from dere—come down from dere!”
+
+  [_As he says this he points a finger at an imaginary personage and by
+    accident levels it at the street door, through which Sowerby is
+    entering. Sowerby is a tall, lean, academic person, very threadbare
+    and even frayed. He carries a high pile of books, a small bundle,
+    and a coat. On top of the pile of books are perched two slippers._]
+
+  SOWERBY. Yes, gentlemen, I’ll come down. I’ve already come down
+    considerably. In fact I’ve been shaken down again.
+
+  IKE. Put you out, huh?
+
+  SOWERBY. A recurrence of an old malady of mine, gentlemen. Landlady
+    trouble. Don’t let anybody tell you there’s no housing shortage in
+    this city. The housing problem is acute at this moment. I missed
+    paying the rent just once—just once, mind you—and I’m on the street.
+    Now that’s a situation that should never arise. And it occurs, not
+    once, not twice, but over and over again. [_He comes to the
+    counter._]
+
+  IKE. You ought to be a mystic.
+
+  SOWERBY. If that would help I’ll be one. In fact, I am one.
+
+  IKE. It’ll help you to a cup of coffee.
+
+  MILKIN. Sure ting. Give us another coffee.
+
+  [_Pete does so._]
+
+  IKE. Listen, you was going to tell me about that second sign, you
+    know—I never saw that one.
+
+  MILKIN. Yeah, you seen it all right, but you didn’t recognize it. [_He
+    reaches for pencil and paper. Ike casually puts the change in his
+    pocket._] See dat! Dat’s de second one! Oh, boy, dat is a sign!
+
+  IKE. What can you do with it?
+
+  MILKIN. Dat is a sign! Dat’s a black art sign! You wait!
+
+  SOWERBY. What do you mean, a black art sign?
+
+  IKE. We mean a black art sign, see? We’re mystics. Me and him.
+
+  SOWERBY. Tell me about it.
+
+  IKE. You wouldn’t know, see, you wouldn’t know.
+
+  MILKIN. We got de numbers, dat’s all.
+
+  IKE. See, we got the numbers.
+
+  MILKIN. We got de whole world’s number. We got three, five, seven, and
+    nine, see, and one more.
+
+  IKE. And one more, see? That’s the real one.
+
+  SOWERBY. You can tell fortunes, I presume?
+
+  MILKIN. Dat’s de amateur game.
+
+  SOWERBY. All right. Tell me how the strike’s coming out.
+
+  MILKIN [_scribbling rapidly_]. I’ll tell you. Look at dat! See dat? It
+    don’t look so good for de strike.
+
+  SOWERBY [_pointing_]. What’s that?
+
+  MILKIN [_impressively_]. See dat? [_To Ike._] He picks dat one out.
+    Dat’s de sign of three. And dat’s de sign of seven. And when dey
+    comes togedder—it means deat’.
+
+  SOWERBY. Debt? I’m pretty deep in debt myself.
+
+  MILKIN. Deat’! Deat’ the leveller, deat’ the radical, deat’ the end of
+    worldly glory!
+
+  SOWERBY. Death? Who’s going to die?
+
+  MILKIN. I can’t tell dat. Dat ain’t fair.
+
+  SOWERBY. But you know?
+
+  IKE. Sure we know.
+
+  MILKIN. I know. He don’t know. Not yet.
+
+  SOWERBY. You know, gentlemen, the older I become the less seriously I
+    regard the deaths of other people—or even of myself. The fact that I
+    have no place to sleep tonight bothers me a good deal, but if I were
+    only going to die tonight—that is, without discomfort—I shouldn’t
+    mind it in the least. The idea of death, philosophically regarded,
+    is welcome to the mature mind.
+
+  [_There is a sudden crash against the folding doors. Sowerby drops
+    instantly under the table, and all eyes turn toward the disturbance.
+    The doors open and Spiker can be heard speaking above the cries of
+    “Put him out!” “Who told him he could talk?” “That’s all!” “He’s a
+    Red!” “Back to Russia!”_]
+
+  SPIKER. You’re compromisers, you’re lick-spittles, you’re wage-slaves,
+    you’re finks—you haven’t got enough guts to demand what’s yours! I
+    tell you—
+
+  A VOICE. Will you get the hell out?
+
+  SPIKER. I will not! I’m a member in good standing!
+
+  A VOICE. Back to Russia!
+
+  ANOTHER VOICE. All right, Mac!
+
+  [_Spiker is thrust into the restaurant and the door is closed. He
+    tries it futilely._]
+
+  IKE. This is the overflow meeting. Come on in. [_Spiker turns to glare
+    at Ike, then sits gloomily alone._] Lost anything?
+
+  SOWERBY [_rising_]. My—dignity.—Let me see—where was I? [_He seats
+    himself and picks up a tabloid paper._] Where was I?
+
+  IKE. You was saying before you got under the table that death was a
+    matter of indifference to you.
+
+  SOWERBY. Exactly—exactly. And in a civilization such as ours that is
+    as it should be. What does any one human life amount to? Look at
+    this headline, for instance. “Paymaster killed, robbers escape with
+    $28,000 belonging to Northfield Dock Company!”
+
+  [_All eyes are suddenly turned toward Sowerby._]
+
+  MILKIN. I told you!
+
+  IKE. What’s that? That means the scabs didn’t get their pay today!
+    Hey? [_He picks up the paper._] Hey, do they know that in there?
+    [_He tries the doors._] The scabs don’t get their pay this week!
+    [_There is a sound of cheering from within._] That’s Mac talking.
+    Hey, Mac—the scabs had bad luck! [_The door opens in Ike’s face and
+    a voice exclaims at him._]
+
+  THE VOICE. Sh! Shut up, will you?
+
+  IKE. Hey! All right! Jeez, it certainly was a swell afternoon for a
+    holdup—all the cops were beating up the strikers. [_He returns._] I
+    wonder who got away with that $28,000?
+
+  SOWERBY. You ought to know. I thought you were a mystic.
+
+  IKE. I ain’t got to that. He knows.
+
+  SOWERBY [_to Milkin_]. Who was it?
+
+  MILKIN. Oh, no. Dat wouldn’t be for the best interest. To tell dat.
+
+  SOWERBY. I thought not.
+
+  [_The folding doors open a crack, and Bauer, a selfimportant busybody,
+    looks out, then emerges and closes it. While he holds the door open
+    a fragment of Mac’s speech drifts out. He listens, shakes head,
+    shows disapproval._]
+
+  MAC [_within_]. Compromise? Why certainly, when it’s necessary.
+    Capitulate to Northfield? Why certainly, when he’s got us where he
+    wants us! But, for God’s sake, why compromise now, when you don’t
+    have to? Why capitulate when we’ve got him on the run? Don’t you
+    know the mills are going out tomorrow? Within a week there won’t be
+    a loom running!
+
+  [_The door shuts off the rest._]
+
+  BAUER. It’s the last time Mac talks in there, if he knows it or not.
+
+  ROSALIE. What do you mean?
+
+  BAUER. Never mind. There was a little caucus before he came. He is
+    just a little too wild. Also, Mr. Suvorin, we have had a meeting of
+    the house committee this afternoon. You hear that? [_Suvorin looks
+    up at him without changing his expression._] We had a meeting of the
+    house committee. It will affect you somewhat. The lyceum has given
+    desk room to certain radical groups, without pay. Well, we have
+    changed all that. No more desk room without pay. And—_and_ no more
+    desk room for radicals, for any price. No more I.W.W.’s, no more
+    anarchists, only straight union activities.
+
+  SUVORIN. I understand.
+
+  BAUER. Also, Mr. Suvorin, in the past it has been the custom for
+    radicals to meet here in your restaurant and talk. Well, this is a
+    restaurant. It is open to the public. We cannot stop that. But it
+    has been allowed for some time that they put literature on the shelf
+    there—Macready and Bardi and Capraro—they have you all filled up
+    with I.W.W. stuff and anarchist stuff—syndicalism, that sort. We
+    want it out. And we want it out before closing time tonight. You
+    see?
+
+  SUVORIN. I do.
+
+  BAUER. You will tell them?
+
+  SUVORIN. That’s your business, not mine.
+
+  ROSALIE. I’ll tell them, Mr. Bauer.
+
+  BAUER. Thank you, Miss Suvorin. We want that literature out of here
+    tonight, tell ’em. We want nothing in this building but straight
+    union literature. You never know when there’s going to be a raid.
+    They raided the Zeitung right across the street. Well, why wouldn’t
+    they raid you here if you’re distributing anarchist literature? [_He
+    goes to the shelf in the corner and picks up a book._] Here’s one.
+    Liberty, Equality, Fraternity for Humanity! Is that I.W.W. or
+    Anarchist?
+
+  SOWERBY. That goes back to the French Revolution.
+
+  BAUER. Revolution, huh?
+
+  SOWERBY. French Revolution.
+
+  BAUER. Anyway, we’ve had too much talk of revolution, no matter if
+    it’s French. This should be a labor lyceum, not a hatchery for
+    revolutions. [_He takes up another book._] Here is a heavy one. [_He
+    reads._] “Certain Positive Aspects of the Negative Outcome of
+    Philosophy.” Oh, I see.
+
+  SOWERBY. You’ll find some copies of the Declaration of Independence
+    there. Dangerous stuff, too. Highly inflammatory. Suppressed by the
+    police of Los Angeles and Boston.
+
+  BAUER. You would not kid me, for instance?
+
+  SOWERBY. Oh, no.
+
+  BAUER [_looking at Sowerby’s books_]. What’s this?
+
+  SOWERBY. If you will pardon me, these are my effects.
+
+  BAUER. Your effects?
+
+  SOWERBY. My, as it were, personal effects.
+
+  BAUER. Think of that now. [_To Ike._] How about you—have you got desk
+    room in the building?
+
+  IKE [_turning away loftily and tapping with his foot_]. No, my good
+    man, no.
+
+  BAUER. What!
+
+  IKE [_looking down his nose at Bauer_]. No, my good man, no!
+    [_Bursting with rage, Bauer slams down one of Sowerby’s books and
+    returns to his examination of the radical shelf._] Personally, I’d
+    rather be a bum. I’d rather be an auctioneer. [_He picks up Bauer’s
+    hat, watching Bauer narrowly._] Ladies and gentlemen, before the
+    regular auctioneer returns from lunch, what am I offered for this
+    indescribable object? [_Bauer turns, and Ike puts down the hat and
+    quickly substitutes one of Sowerby’s slippers._] Ladies and
+    gentlemen, in all my years as a broker in rare and curious objects,
+    I have never—never—in fact— [_He smells the slipper._] We withdraw
+    that exhibit—we are forced to withdraw that exhibit—and we offer in
+    its place this rare and original manuscriptum— [_he takes up
+    Sowerby’s manuscript_] being the first and only extant draft of
+    Sowerby’s History of—what was it you said you was writing a history
+    of, Mr. Sowerby?
+
+  SOWERBY. I am writing a history, sir, of irrelevant and unimportant
+    details.
+
+  IKE. Yes—of irrelevant and unimportant details. Would you mind
+    describing a irrelevant detail, Mr. Sowerby? Mr. Sowerby, ladies and
+    gentlemen, will now appear in person, describing a irrelevant
+    detail! Mr. Sowerby!
+
+  [_There is a sudden crash of applause, mingled with cheers and the
+    stamping of feet from the auditorium. Sowerby, about to speak,
+    instead slides under the table, rising at once when he realizes
+    there is no danger. Voices are heard above the din yelling “The
+    strike’s over! The strike’s over! Make it unanimous!” Macready,
+    Ward, and Andy come through the folding doors, with a group of
+    longshoremen, who pass through and out to the street, talking._]
+
+  WARD. I knew they’d do it!
+
+  MAC. We had to make a play for it anyway.
+
+  SPIKER. So it’s over, huh?
+
+  MAC. They think so.
+
+  ANDY. Yeah—they think so.
+
+  MAC. That’s the way it goes. You win a strike for ’em—have it all
+    wrapped up and laid on the table like a Christmas present—and
+    they’re afraid to take it! You’ve got to feed ’em higher wages like
+    horse-medicine!
+
+  SPIKER. I guess that stops us.
+
+  MAC. No. Sorry they handled you rough, Spiker. I didn’t expect that.
+
+  SPIKER. What are you doing now?
+
+  MAC. Ask Andy. [_He glances meaningly at Bauer._]
+
+  ANDY. I can tell you better later. I’m going upstairs.
+
+  MAC. Good. [_Andy goes out by the hall door._] Engineers are meeting.
+
+  SPIKER. I get you.
+
+  BAUER. I see you have a little trouble, Mr. Macready.
+
+  MAC. That’s news to me. What’s the matter?
+
+  BAUER. I guess they blocked the strike for you, huh?
+
+  MAC [_to Ward, paying no attention to Bauer_]. By the way, can I get
+    hold of Benny?
+
+  WARD. He’s going to call you here.
+
+  MAC. Good.
+
+  BAUER. I wish to speak to you, Mr. Macready.
+
+  MAC. Well, then, I’ll bet you do it.
+
+  BAUER. There was a meeting of the house committee this afternoon—
+
+  MAC. Yes?
+
+  BAUER. And it was decided to give the radical organizations no more
+    desk room.
+
+  MAC. Well, well.
+
+  BAUER. It was decided you would have to go out—I.W.W.’s and
+    Syndicalists—everybody but straight A.F. of L.
+
+  MAC. Who holds the mortgage on this building?
+
+  BAUER. That has nothing to do with it.
+
+  MAC. I thought not.
+
+  BAUER. So you will pardon me if I tell you we want you to take your
+    literature and move out. I told the committee you would be out
+    tonight.
+
+  MAC. I’m busy tonight.
+
+  BAUER. I said tonight. I told the committee tonight.
+
+  MAC. You said you’d put me out?
+
+  BAUER. I did.
+
+  MAC. Do you know I’m a longshoreman?
+
+  BAUER. You’re an I.W.W. You have been in this union two years and you
+    have made nothing but trouble since you came. You are not a union
+    man—and Bardi is not, and Capraro is not. You are out to make
+    trouble. When one strike is over you start another, you three. And
+    we have had enough of you!
+
+  MAC. I’ll tell you, Mr. Bauer, this looks to me like the start of a
+    long conversation, and as I said, I’m busy—
+
+  BAUER. You will find out! You saw the way the vote went on your
+    strike. Well, you were not here earlier in the evening. That was
+    decided before hand. And we have talked about you and Bardi and
+    Capraro. Capraro is an anarchist. I have heard him say so. And he is
+    going out of the union. And your literature must be taken away
+    tonight.
+
+  MAC. You throw it out. If you’re scared of a raid, throw it out. I
+    hope they raid you and find enough Rights of Man around here to give
+    the Department of Justice the heebie-jeebies.
+
+  BAUER. You will not take it away?
+
+  MAC. No.
+
+  BAUER. Very well. I will. [_He goes out._]
+
+  IKE. Personally, I’d rather be a bum.
+
+  MAC. Where’s Capraro? Hasn’t he been around?
+
+  ROSALIE. No.
+
+  MAC. Nor Bardi?
+
+  ROSALIE. No.
+
+  MAC. That’s funny. Maybe they ran them in. We’d better find out.
+
+  ROSALIE. Don’t you know they’ve got warrants out for all of you? For
+    instigating a riot?
+
+  WARD. That’s a good joke.
+
+  ROSALIE. It’s not a joke.
+
+  MAC. Well, no, not exactly. They didn’t mean it that way.
+
+  IKE. It’s in the paper. And did you know the scabs didn’t get paid
+    today?
+
+  MAC. No, why? [_Ward looks at the paper._]
+
+  IKE. Payroll was robbed. That’s in the paper, too.
+
+  MAC. Hell, Ike can read. When did this happen?
+
+  IKE. This afternoon. Got clean away with the money.
+
+  WARD. That’s good. That soaks Northfield and the scabs, too. Say, they
+    killed old Kendall.
+
+  SPIKER. Who’s Kendall?
+
+  WARD. Paymaster.
+
+  MAC. Good day for a holdup. They had every policeman in town guarding
+    the docks, and riot guns all up and down the harbor front.
+
+  ROSALIE. Mac, what did happen this afternoon?
+
+  MAC. Nothing. Only we tried to reestablish our picket lines, and
+    somebody had squealed to the chief of police, so he met us with a
+    young army. They started shooting over the boys’ heads and naturally
+    there was hell to pay.
+
+  ROSALIE. But Mac, there were some policemen hurt—and the way the
+    papers have it they blame everything on you—
+
+  MAC. I was hardly in it. I was a sort of an in-and-outer. Capraro and
+    I were riding with Waterman in his car. We had to have him there so
+    they couldn’t rush the boys off to jail without seeing a lawyer, and
+    they’ve been trying to get Waterman, so he wouldn’t come unless he
+    was guarded. And they tried to take him away from us, you see.
+    That’s how I happened to grab the gun. They had it all planned. A
+    cop jumps on the running board and tosses a gun into the car and
+    then they start to arrest the bunch for carrying concealed weapons.
+    I’ve seen that tried before, so I picked up the gun and beat it.
+    That’s all.
+
+  ROSALIE. Then they made up the story about your starting it by
+    knocking a policeman down.
+
+  MAC. I ran into him by accident.
+
+  ROSALIE. You could have let them arrest Waterman.
+
+  MAC. They were going to pull all three of us! We’d have been through
+    the third degree by now and stretched out on the iron floor like so
+    much sirloin steak. The way it is we’re all out of it. We’re all out
+    of it—we can carry the strike right over to the mills tomorrow.
+
+  IKE. Maybe you didn’t hear that Bardi was hurt.
+
+  MAC. Bardi?
+
+  IKE. You didn’t hear that?
+
+  MAC. No.
+
+  SPIKER. He wasn’t hurt much. I saw him leaning up against the gates,
+    and he said he’d be all right in a minute.
+
+  IKE. Oh, no. He was hurt bad.
+
+  MAC. Who told you?
+
+  IKE. Some fellow in there. He said Bardi was shot.
+
+  MAC. What?
+
+  IKE. Yeah, I thought you knew that.
+
+  MAC. Where did they take the boys that were hurt? [_He rises._]
+
+  WARD. I don’t know.
+
+  [_Capraro, a gentle young Italian, enters quietly from the street._]
+
+  MAC. Hello, Cappie. We were just talking about Bardi.
+
+  CAPRARO [_after a pause_]. Bardi is dead.
+
+  MAC. He is?
+
+  CAPRARO. I just came from the hospital.
+
+  MAC. Hell. So it had to happen to Bardi. Was he shot?
+
+  CAPRARO. Yes. They were careful to hit him where it would kill. He
+    asked me to tell you good-bye for him. He was so sorry to die that
+    way—in a hospital. He said—it means nothing this way. He said,
+    please tell you all good-bye.
+
+  MAC. I see.
+
+  ROSALIE. And don’t you see pretty soon it will be your turn? Everybody
+    knows what Northfield has said about all of you—
+
+  MAC. So it had to happen to little Bardi.
+
+  IKE. He was a good scout.
+
+  [_A Salvation Army group begins to play and sing outside._]
+
+  THE ARMY.
+
+                  There’s a land that is fairer than day,
+                  And by faith we can see it afar,
+                  For the Father waits over the way
+                  To prepare us a dwelling-place there.
+
+                  In the sweet bye and bye,
+                  We shall meet on that beautiful shore,
+                  In the sweet bye and bye,
+                  We shall meet on that beautiful shore.
+
+  [_Ike, who is standing at the window, sings the next stanza with them,
+    beginning in a low tone._]
+
+  IKE.
+
+                 Those preachers come out every night
+                 To tell us what’s wrong and what’s right.
+                 If you ask them for something to eat,
+                 They answer in voices so sweet—
+
+  [_He raises his voice so that the words are heard._]
+
+                   You will eat, bye and bye,
+                   In your beautiful home beyond the sky.
+                   Watch and pray, live on hay,
+                   You’ll get pie in the sky bye and bye.
+
+  WARD. Aw, shut up, Ike.
+
+  [_The door opens and a pretty Salvation lass passes the tambourine
+    while the band goes on singing. Nobody pays any attention to her.
+    Jerusalem Slim, wearing a Salvation uniform, enters behind her and
+    stands near the door._]
+
+  THE ARMY.
+
+                   We shall sing on that beautiful shore
+                   The melodious songs of the blest,
+                   And our spirits shall sorrow no more,
+                   Not a sigh for the blessings of rest.
+                   In the sweet, etc.
+
+  [_The Lassie comes last to Ike, who looks inquisitively into the
+    tambourine, then gravely holds out his cap to her._]
+
+  IKE. I’m in the same line myself, sister.
+
+  THE LASSIE. Jesus will save you.
+
+  IKE. Not if I see him first, he won’t. I’m a Southern Jew, and Jesus
+    himself wouldn’t touch a Southern Jew, sister. He might be willing
+    to do something for one of those New York Jews, but I never met
+    anybody that didn’t draw the line at an Israelite hillbilly.
+
+  THE LASSIE. Have you tried Him?
+
+  IKE. Sister, I get saved regular every winter, whenever my shoes wear
+    out. I’ve got a groove wore in my back from back-sliding.
+
+  THE LASSIE. “Come unto me all ye who labor and are heavy-laden.”
+    You’ll never find rest till you find Him.
+
+  IKE. Sister, if you’re speaking for yourself, I’ll come, but if you’re
+    speaking for the Kingdom of Heaven, I’ve been to Florida and these
+    summer resorts ain’t what they’re cracked up to be in the
+    prospectus. You’re too pretty to go round distributing the word of
+    God. You’re liable to create a false impression. Heaven ain’t like
+    that. Why don’t you speak for yourself, kid?
+
+  THE LASSIE [_stepping back_]. I’m safe in His arms, brother.
+
+  IKE. You’d be a lot more comfortable in mine.
+
+  [_The Lassie goes out. As she passes through the door, a shrill voice
+    is heard testifying._]
+
+  THE VOICE. I was on the street and Jesus saved me. My sins fell from
+    me and left my soul as pure as the driven snow.
+
+  [_The door closes, cutting off the words._]
+
+  WARD. That was no accident, you know, about Bardi.
+
+  MAC. No, probably not.
+
+  WARD. They had it in for him, after last year.
+
+  SPIKER. You think they planned that?
+
+  WARD. I do.
+
+  CAPRARO. It is they that have red hands. The murderer loses in the
+    end.
+
+  MAC. The kind of murderer that killed Bardi dies mostly of old age.
+
+  SLIM. You have all forgotten something. You have forgotten that God is
+    love.
+
+  WARD [_angrily_]. Christ, I thought that one was dead!
+
+  MAC. Oh, God is love, is he? Well, how much does he love the guy that
+    instructed somebody to get Bardi?
+
+  SLIM. Judge not that ye be not judged.
+
+  SPIKER. Throw him out.
+
+  MAC. You! You’re a pious fraud. You’re one of them. The net effect of
+    all you’ve got to say is to support their capitalistic system!
+    That’s what your army says, and that’s why business supports you.
+    Teach ’em temperance so they’ll work steadier, teach ’em to turn the
+    other cheek, so they won’t make trouble when they’re robbed, teach
+    ’em to judge not, so we can jail ’em and murder ’em without a
+    come-back. Make ’em all good slaves in the name of Jesus Christ.
+    That’s what you stand for!
+
+  SLIM. Would you do violence for higher wages?
+
+  MAC. No, but if I had my hands on the man that shot Bardi, I wouldn’t
+    answer for him.
+
+  CAPRARO. You would be wrong. When you take violence into your hands,
+    you lower yourself to the level of government, which is the origin
+    of crime and evil.
+
+  MAC. Go on! The government’s nothing so important. It’s a police
+    system, to protect the wealth of the wealthy. And Slim there, he
+    stands for the priests of the world, going around advising everybody
+    to knuckle under so the bankers can keep all they’ve got! That’s why
+    the boys voted to end the strike in there. They’ve been taught to be
+    slaves till they don’t know enough to take what’s their own. We had
+    the strike all won for them, and they throw it all away because they
+    owe a little money at the corner grocery and they’re scared of the
+    police! Capraro and I talk ourselves blue in the face for them, and
+    Bardi gets himself killed for them, and it’s all coming their way,
+    and then what do they do? They decide they can’t stand it any longer
+    and they take their wage cut and go back to work! No wonder the
+    Rockefellers are good Baptists!
+
+  ROSALIE. Then isn’t it all useless, Mac?
+
+  MAC. By God, they’re going to know they’ve been in a fight before they
+    put me away! What else does Northfield own besides mills and docks?
+    I’ll have them all out on him! I’ll bleed him till he can’t pay his
+    private dicks!
+
+  WARD. Good boy!
+
+  [_The telephone rings. Rosalie answers it._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes, he’s here. Mac.
+
+  [_Mac takes the phone._]
+
+  MAC. Hello. Hello, Ben. What? Wait a minute. They’re _not_ going back
+    to work! I know they voted it down but they’re not going back
+    because the engineers are staying out. Did you get that? And now get
+    this, too. The engineers are staying out on my word that the mills
+    are going out in sympathy, and you’ve got to work it for me. No,
+    I’ve got to wait here till the meeting’s over. You can pull that
+    through for me. [_A pause._] Well, can you do this? Can you hold
+    them half an hour till I can get there? Put on a show. Make it
+    dramatic, and I’ll be over as soon as I hear from Andy. You’re damn
+    right we’ll have the longshoremen out again! We’ll make them eat
+    that vote and like it! All right! [_He hangs up, and turns to
+    Ward._] What was that you heard about raids tonight?
+
+  WARD. I got it from old Bauer.
+
+  MAC. Well, there may be something in it, from what Benny says. They’ve
+    got a posse mobilized over at the mills.
+
+  ROSALIE. Then you won’t go over there?
+
+  MAC. I’ve got to. It’s probably only the regular guard. They call out
+    the State Militia every time a couple of mill-workers shake hands.
+    [_He takes down the receiver._] Give me the committee room. Hello.
+    Hello, Andy. I know you’re not alone. You don’t need to talk. You
+    can give it to me yes or no. Are they waiting to hear from the
+    mills? Well, the mills are waiting to hear from you, so for God’s
+    sake shove them over. Yes. Benny says they will. And move fast or I
+    won’t be in time. I’m going over there. [_He comes over to
+    Rosalie._] You’ve got to be a sport, sweetheart, you’ve got to.
+
+  ROSALIE. I can’t do it any more. I’ve done it all I can. [_She is set
+    and stern._]
+
+  MAC. It’s the only chance the strike’s got, Rosalie. If I go down
+    there with the news that the engineers are going out I’m pretty sure
+    I can stampede them.
+
+  ROSALIE. You’d better go then. Only don’t ask me to be a sport about
+    it. I’m not going to try any more. I’m not going to be interested
+    any more.
+
+  MAC. What do you want me to do? Put on a white collar and sit in an
+    office and push a pen around all day?
+
+  ROSALIE. You could do anything—anything you wanted to—only you don’t
+    want to do anything but—save humanity or something like that—I don’t
+    know what! All I know is they aren’t worth it—and they don’t care
+    how much you do for them!
+
+  MAC. They’re the only people who are worth anything. I admit they’re
+    lunkheads and you’ve got to tell them. By God, somebody’s got to do
+    the telling.
+
+  ROSALIE. Get wise to yourself, Mac. They sit around here and guzzle
+    coffee and yes you one day and then go in there and vote you down
+    the next! And they aren’t worth it and you don’t get anything out of
+    it!
+
+  MAC. I get a hell of a lot of fun out of it.
+
+  ROSALIE. I thought so. You start strikes because you like to be in a
+    fight and you run them because you like to act like a tin
+    Napoleon—that’s all!
+
+  MAC. Thanks!
+
+  ROSALIE. That’s that—there’s nothing more to say—go ahead with your
+    strike—do anything you like but don’t count on me.
+
+  MAC. Does that mean you are walking out on me?
+
+  ROSALIE. It does. Don’t touch me and don’t come near me. I’m through,
+    Mac, through. I don’t want to see you again and I hope— [_Rosalie
+    runs out._]
+
+  SPIKER. “Tin Napoleon,” eh? Getting soft, Mac? Never knew you to take
+    anything like that before.
+
+  MAC. You try it on, fella, and see what’ll happen to you. [_Phone
+    rings. Mac answers._] Hello. What? Who is this? How do you know
+    that? I’ve just been talking to Benny. They did! Ah, Christ! Can’t
+    you round them up? Can’t you get another hall? You don’t have to let
+    them get away with that! Who have you got with you? [_A long
+    pause._] All right. All right. Well, it certainly lets us down over
+    here. Where are you going to be? I’ll call you there. [_He hangs
+    up._] That settles it.
+
+  WARD. What’s up?
+
+  MAC. Police broke up the mill meeting, wrecked the hall, and scattered
+    the crowd. They won’t vote tonight. Anyway, they’re licked. And I
+    guess we are. What do you say, Cappie?
+
+  CAPRARO. We must call Andy.
+
+  MAC. I wish I thought the engineers would go out alone.
+
+  CAPRARO. They will not. Anyway, you must tell them.
+
+  MAC. You tell ’em, Cappie.
+
+  CAPRARO [_going to telephone_]. Give me the committee room.
+
+  SPIKER. So they go back tomorrow.
+
+  MAC. Looks like it.
+
+  CAPRARO. Hello, Andy. It’s all off. Police raided the mill-workers.
+    Oh, no, no, no! We must not do that! Yes, so am I. [_He hangs up._]
+
+  SPIKER. You’d let the longshoremen go back to work tomorrow—after
+    that?
+
+  MAC. Not if I saw my way out of it.
+
+  SPIKER. What kind of guts have we got in this crowd, anyway? We can’t
+    let ’em get away with that! Don’t you see it? They get away with
+    that and we’re licked for good—the whole labor crowd’s licked?
+
+  MAC. Pretty damn near it.
+
+  SPIKER. Look here, Mac. I never knew you to go soft before. What’s the
+    matter with you? Do you want a vacation?
+
+  MAC. I didn’t ask for one, but I guess I’m going to get it.
+
+  SPIKER. Ward, what’s the matter with you? I don’t understand this
+    bunch. Are we going to lie down? God, there’s got to be something to
+    do!
+
+  WARD. There’s got to be, all right, but I can’t think of it.
+
+  SPIKER. I’ll tell you what I’d do if anybody had the guts to go with
+    me—I’d fix it so nobody could go to work, scabs or union. I’d blow
+    the docks to hell!
+
+  WARD. There wouldn’t be any sense to that.
+
+  SPIKER. Christ, what a crowd!
+
+  MAC. Be logical, man, be logical. I’ll do anything that’ll get us
+    anywhere. Only that wouldn’t. Not this time.
+
+  SPIKER. Now’s the time it would do some good. And why not? They’ve
+    used everything on us.
+
+  WARD. Well, I’d like to see it.
+
+  SPIKER. Only you won’t touch it—oh, no! You wanted to know what you
+    could do about the strike—and I told you that’s all—and do I get
+    volunteers? I do not. Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’m going
+    alone.
+
+  MAC. Are you joking?
+
+  SPIKER. I don’t joke with nitroglycerine. [_Suvorin has silently risen
+    and come over behind Spiker. He lays his hand on Spiker’s shoulder.
+    Spiker jumps._] What do you want?
+
+  SUVORIN. You asked for a man.
+
+  SPIKER. Well?
+
+  SUVORIN. Will I do?
+
+  SPIKER. Will you come with me?
+
+  SUVORIN. Who are you?
+
+  SPIKER. Who the hell are you?
+
+  SUVORIN. You know me. I run this restaurant.
+
+  SPIKER. You’re no longshoreman.
+
+  SUVORIN. You asked for a man.
+
+  SPIKER. All right. Who else is coming?
+
+  SUVORIN. And now, who are you?
+
+  SPIKER. Say, bohunk, I guess you know who I am.
+
+  SUVORIN. I do not.
+
+  SPIKER. Well, I don’t know as I can help you then.
+
+  MAC. He’s all right, Suvorin. He’s been working with us three months.
+    He’s a California wobbly. They grow wild out there.
+
+  SPIKER. Anybody else game to go along?
+
+  MAC. You wouldn’t go into that?
+
+  SUVORIN. If he will tell me who he is.
+
+  SPIKER. Damn it, Mac told you who I am!
+
+  SUVORIN. How long were you in California?
+
+  SPIKER. Is this a third degree?
+
+  SUVORIN. Why not answer me?
+
+  MAC. Tell him, Spiker. He’s all right. There’s nobody here you need be
+    afraid of.
+
+  SPIKER. Three years.
+
+  SUVORIN. And before that?
+
+  SPIKER. Do you want my life history?
+
+  SUVORIN. This is a serious matter.
+
+  SPIKER. All right. I’ve been an I.W.W. organizer over four years.
+    Before that I was in Pittsburgh.
+
+  SUVORIN. What was your trade?
+
+  SPIKER. Iron-worker.
+
+  SUVORIN. You’ve never been an iron-worker.
+
+  SPIKER. Are you calling me a liar?
+
+  SUVORIN. I am. Look at that hand. Look at that wrist. [_He holds up
+    Spiker’s hand._] Where do you wear it?
+
+  SPIKER. What are you getting nasty about?
+
+  SUVORIN. I said where do you wear it? On your underwear?
+
+  SPIKER. What do you mean?
+
+  SUVORIN. Your badge!
+
+  SPIKER. I don’t wear any badge. Do I look like a dick?
+
+  SUVORIN. You do. [_He seizes Spiker’s shirt and turns the collar
+    down._]
+
+  SPIKER. Take your lousy paws off me.
+
+  SUVORIN. There it is. [_He withdraws his hand with a detective’s badge
+    in it._]
+
+  SPIKER. You planted that on me!
+
+  SUVORIN. Oh, no.
+
+  MAC [_rising_]. Look, here, Spiker!—
+
+  SPIKER [_his hands on a gun in his pocket_]. Let go of me!
+
+  [_Sowerby slides under the table and stays there._]
+
+  SUVORIN. Certainly.
+
+  [_Spiker, released, backs to the street door, his eyes on Mac._]
+
+  MAC. Spiker, is that true? [_Spiker, nearing the door, makes no
+    answer._] You’re a rat, then, are you? [_Spiker disappears._] Why,
+    God damn his soul, he’s been sitting in with us all through the
+    strike! [_He makes a sudden dash for the cash drawer, takes out the
+    gun and makes for the door._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Mac!
+
+  [_Suvorin blocks Mac’s way and pinions him, Ward takes the gun._]
+
+  MAC. All right, all right. I’m letting go. Only that’s the nearest I
+    ever came to bumping anybody off.
+
+  [_Ward replaces the gun._]
+
+  SUVORIN. Sit there and think it over! And when next you wish to do a
+    thing like that do it well, with forethought to save your skin, not
+    like a fool! [_He looks over the group._] How many years have I sat
+    here listening to fools’ talk? Five, ten—many years. And what have I
+    learned from you? I have learned that you know nothing—that you
+    learn nothing! Uplifters, you are, reformers, dreamers, thinking to
+    make over the earth. I know you all, and you are all fools but Ike,
+    who is a pan-handler. That is sensible.... The earth is old. You
+    will not make it over. Man is old. You will not make him over. You
+    are anarchists, maybe, some of you socialists, some of you wobblies,
+    you are all believers in pap. The world is old, and it is owned by
+    men who are hard. Do you think you can win against them by a strike?
+    Let us change the government, you say. Bah! They own this
+    government, they will buy any government you have. I tell you there
+    is no government—there are only brigands in power who fight for more
+    power! It has always been so. It will always be so. Till you die!
+    Till we all die! Till there is no earth!
+
+  This Spiker you have here, you believe him, he looks right to you. How
+    do I know him? I have a test for him. All my life I listen among men
+    for a man who has hell in him, as I have. All my life I listen for
+    one rebel, and when I have thought to find him I have looked under
+    his lapel for the badge. When I find him he is a spy—always! There
+    is only one man with enough hell in him to be dangerous—enough hell
+    and cunning and power—and it is I alone! I came here from tyranny to
+    find a free country, and this country set out to break me in its
+    prisons because I believed in its liberty. You should know what it
+    is to wear iron to your bone! I can tell you of liberty! I can tell
+    you of justice! There is none! There are men with whips and there
+    are whipped men! That is all. And you are whipped. Because you are
+    fools.
+
+  WARD. Who’s whipped?
+
+  SUVORIN. You are. You are whipped before you start. The government
+    sets a little game for you, and you play it with them, and the
+    government wins because it is their game. Then they put you in
+    prison till you have tuberculosis. That is the end of you. It is an
+    easy way. You are children in their hands. You have not even
+    bothered to get money to fight them, you have not even learned to
+    break from a prison, you do not even learn their tricks. Bah! They
+    have cheap little tricks to hold you—handcuffs, bars—do you think
+    they could hold me again with handcuffs and bars?—Yes, but you are
+    happier so. You have not gone bad inside—and that is why you are not
+    dangerous. That is why—you are not dangerous. [_He sits, his head in
+    his hands._] Play your game. They are safe from you.
+
+  [_The door opens and a Policeman and Sergeant enter. Spiker stands in
+    the doorway. Mac and Ward rise._]
+
+  SERGEANT. Sit still, sit still. Just got warrants for a couple of
+    arrests here, that’s all.
+
+  MAC. Who do you want?
+
+  SERGEANT. James Macready and Dante Capraro.
+
+  ROSALIE. They’re not here.
+
+  SPIKER. Oh, yes, they are.
+
+  WARD. Hello, rat.
+
+  SPIKER. Those two.
+
+  SERGEANT [_to Mac_]. What’s your name?
+
+  MAC. Macready.
+
+  SERGEANT. Well, you’re wanted. What’s yours?
+
+  CAPRARO. Capraro.
+
+  SERGEANT. You two come along. That’s all.
+
+  MAC. Wait a minute, wait a minute. Where’s your warrant?
+
+  SERGEANT. Oh, I see. Constitutional rights and everything, huh? Well,
+    here you are.
+
+  MAC. Wait. Let me read it.
+
+  SERGEANT. Sure, read it.
+
+  MAC [_reading_]. Do you mean you’re arresting us for a murder?
+
+  SERGEANT. That’s what it says, ain’t it?
+
+  MAC. You can’t arrest us for any murder.
+
+  SERGEANT. I guess I can.
+
+  ROSALIE. What murder?
+
+  MAC. Kendall, the paymaster. Listen, we know nothing about that. We
+    were having troubles of our own this afternoon.
+
+  POLICEMAN. We don’t know anything about that.
+
+  ROSALIE. But you can’t do this. It isn’t right.
+
+  SERGEANT. I don’t want any argument about it.
+
+  SPIKER [_coming in_]. You’d better search the place for weapons,
+    sergeant. Look in the cash drawer.
+
+  MAC. You lousy fink, is this your affair?
+
+  SPIKER. And look them over for guns.
+
+  [_Mac suddenly hits Spiker in the jaw. Spiker goes down. The Sergeant
+    grabs Mac, who wrestles with him to get at Spiker. The other
+    policeman gets him from behind. Rosalie tries to help and is shoved
+    away. The Sergeant turns to Capraro._]
+
+  SERGEANT. How about you?
+
+  CAPRARO. I know nothing of a murder.
+
+  SERGEANT. Put out your hands.
+
+  CAPRARO. I will not.
+
+  [_He is handcuffed. Spiker finds the gun in the cash drawer._]
+
+  SPIKER [_to Suvorin_]. Whose is this?
+
+  SUVORIN. I do not know.
+
+  ROSALIE. It’s mine. I put it there.
+
+  SERGEANT. How long have you had it?
+
+  ROSALIE. I don’t know. I’ve always had it.
+
+  SERGEANT. I’ll take it. [_Spiker hands it over._] That’s a service
+    revolver.
+
+  ROSALIE. Mac!
+
+  SERGEANT. You say this is yours?
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes.
+
+  SERGEANT. You can’t talk to him, you know. What’s your name?
+
+  ROSALIE. Rosalie Suvorin.
+
+  SERGEANT. That’s all. We’re going.
+
+  ROSALIE. Wait just a minute—please!
+
+  SERGEANT. You can’t go along, you know.
+
+  ROSALIE. Can’t I speak to him a minute?
+
+  SERGEANT. No.
+
+  MAC. Don’t worry, kid. I’ve been pinched before.
+
+  [_He and the Sergeant go out, following Capraro and the other
+    Policeman. Spiker hits Mac outside the door._]
+
+  SERGEANT [_at the door_]. By the way, I don’t think so much of the
+    crowd you keep in here.
+
+  SUVORIN. Neither do I.
+
+  [_Exit Sergeant. Ward goes to the door. Milkin is scribbling on a
+    napkin._]
+
+  MILKIN [_to Ike_]. See dat? Dat don’t look so good. Dat’s de wrong
+    sign.
+
+
+                                CURTAIN
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+                                 ACT II
+
+
+                                SCENE I
+
+_Scene: Office of District Attorney Salter in the courthouse._
+
+_There is a window, partly ivy-covered, at the right, and a door at the
+rear communicating with the Judge’s chambers. A door at the left opens
+on a hallway. The rear and lefthand walls are almost covered with a
+legal reference library, mostly in yellow leather bindings. There are
+two desks, one for Salter, one for his secretary. A couple of padded
+chairs are placed to front the attorney’s desk. The desks are piled with
+stacks of letters and ’script._
+
+_Salter, a thin, keen, and rather weary person, enters from the hall,
+tosses a hat on the rack, and begins to search through a mass of papers.
+He finds what he wants and sits at his desk._
+
+_There is a tap at the door and Haslet enters. He is a well-dressed,
+middle-aged business man._
+
+_It is after lunch._
+
+  SALTER. Oh, hello, Arthur.
+
+  HASLET. How’s our little trial coming?
+
+  SALTER. It’s all right.
+
+  HASLET. Going to convict?
+
+  SALTER. Oh, yes.—Want to let ’em off?
+
+  HASLET. I do not.
+
+  SALTER. Thought maybe somebody had changed his mind.
+
+  HASLET. Good God, man, those two Bolsheviks have raised more hell in
+    this town the last two years than you’d get out of a dozen reform
+    administrations. Every time we turn around they start something new
+    on us.
+
+  SALTER. Damned unpleasant.
+
+  HASLET. They’ve turned my hair grey, and they’ve cost the Northfield
+    company a couple of millions, one time and another.
+
+  SALTER. It’s rather hard to make it look as if they had anything to do
+    with the murder—
+
+  HASLET. Why is it?
+
+  SALTER. Lord, there’s no evidence.
+
+  HASLET. It looks like a pipe to me.
+
+  SALTER. I wish you had the job. And the next time the boys want to pin
+    something on a couple of radicals I wish you’d call in a little
+    expert advice before you start.
+
+  HASLET. You, for instance?
+
+  SALTER. Me, for instance. It might make it a damn sight easier.
+
+  HASLET. Not that I tried to pin anything on them. But I think it was a
+    damned good idea.
+
+  SALTER. Well so far as I’m concerned it’s a mess. And devilish
+    uncomfortable.
+
+  HASLET. How about that bomb last night?
+
+  SALTER. That helps. By the way, who set that bomb?
+
+  HASLET. How would I know? Some of their blackhand friends, I suppose.
+
+  SALTER. Oh, no. They know better than that. Even a foreigner knows
+    better than to set a bomb under a juryman’s front porch. Is Spiker
+    still working for the company?
+
+  HASLET. You think Spiker did it?
+
+  SALTER. Well, I bet he knows who did.
+
+  HASLET. It was all news to me.
+
+  SALTER. Spiker’s got it in for Macready and Capraro. He’ll do more
+    than he’s paid for. It wasn’t necessary at that. Not with this jury.
+    It’s a hundred and forty proof Shriners and Chamber of Commerce.
+
+  HASLET. What are you kicking about then?
+
+  SALTER. The way it looks, that’s all. It’s the God-damnedest flimsiest
+    case I ever had on my hands, yes, and the most sickening bunch of
+    welching witnesses I ever had to deal with. We’re going to convict
+    and it’s going to look like a frame-up. If I had it to do over again
+    I’d see Northfield and his docks and mills in hell before I’d handle
+    it.
+
+  HASLET. You’re nervous, Will. What’s the matter with you? Don’t you
+    own any stock?
+
+  SALTER. I need some evidence to show up in the newspapers. You told me
+    your operatives had an airtight case, and they said the same thing,
+    and your witnesses are trying to back out all along the line. And
+    who has to hold them to it? I do. It’s a rotten job. I’d like to
+    know how Spiker got that original bunch of affidavits. He must have
+    had everybody chloroformed.
+
+  HASLET. Those two Bolsheviks have got it coming. I don’t give a damn
+    so long as we don’t lose.
+
+  SALTER. You may wish you had, that’s all. The town’s crawling with
+    reporters sending in front page stuff. It’s going to make a stink
+    you can smell from here to Siberia.
+
+  HASLET. What does the judge think about it?
+
+  SALTER. When did a judge ever think? He’s paid not to. By the way,
+    this Spiker person of yours, whom I dislike intensely, was in here
+    this morning. He tells me the defense have a surprise witness to
+    spring after I get all through.
+
+  HASLET. Who is it? The girl?
+
+  SALTER. The girl’s father.
+
+  HASLET. What of it?
+
+  SALTER. Well, Spiker thinks he’s got something on the old boy, that’s
+    all. He’s looking up his record and if they put him on the stand he
+    wants to spring something. I rather wish Spiker was up for murder.
+    I’d take a passionate delight in railroading a crook, just for a
+    change.
+
+  [_Judge Vail enters from the rear; he is fastening his robe._]
+
+  HASLET. How are you, Judge?
+
+  VAIL. How are you? I’m excellent, excellent, thanks. You in court
+    today?
+
+  HASLET. I’ll have to get back to town—just dropped in on my way.
+    What’s the news?
+
+  VAIL. It’s all in the papers. They’re printing us verbatim this time.
+    Great honor. I wanted to ask you, Will—as things are going now, are
+    you likely to conclude your case today or will you require another
+    session?
+
+  SALTER. I’m putting on my two last witnesses this afternoon. I don’t
+    know what the defense will do.
+
+  VAIL. I fear it’s likely to drag on for some days.
+
+  HASLET. Are you betting on the results, Judge?
+
+  VAIL. I daresay they’ll be found guilty. And no doubt they are. No
+    doubt they are. I long ago gave up trying to decide who was innocent
+    and who was guilty. That’s the jury’s business. In this case we have
+    an intelligent jury. [_He goes to the door, then turns to deliver a
+    dry joke._] But not too intelligent—not too intelligent. [_He goes
+    out._]
+
+  HASLET. He’s all right.
+
+  SALTER. Yeah. He’s been dead from the neck up for twenty-five years.
+    And from the neck down for about forty—otherwise he’s fine.
+
+  HASLET. By the way, can we do anything for you?
+
+  SALTER. Sure, I want a steam yacht and a villa overlooking the
+    Mediterranean. And I’m going to need ’em when I’m through with this.
+    No, you big swine, run along and sell your papers. I’m
+    incorruptible. Anyway, you don’t need to corrupt me. I’ve got to win
+    this case now or retire. I just wish to God I’d never got into it.
+    That’s what makes me sore.
+
+  HASLET. You’re made, man, you’re made.
+
+  SALTER. I suppose you think I’ll be the next governor.
+
+  HASLET. Why not? So long, Will!
+
+  SALTER. So long, Arthur.
+
+  [_Haslet goes out left. Salter pushes a bell. A Court Attendant
+    enters._]
+
+  ATTENDANT. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Got that woman waiting?
+
+  ATTENDANT. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Bring her in.
+
+  [_The Attendant opens the door at the left and ushers in Mrs. Lubin, a
+    woman of fifty or so._]
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, Mr. Salter.
+
+  SALTER. I got your letter this morning. Sit down.
+
+  MRS. LUBIN [_sitting_]. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. You say you’ve changed your mind, you aren’t sure of what you
+    saw and you can’t testify?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Don’t you think it’s pretty late in the day to change your
+    mind?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir—but—
+
+  SALTER. Do you remember what you said in your affidavit? [_He taps the
+    paper in his hand._] You said you were standing at the front window
+    of your apartment at four-fifteen on the afternoon of April second
+    and you saw Macready shoot Kendall from the front seat of a Buick
+    touring car. That’s pretty definite, isn’t it? You swore to that,
+    didn’t you?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir—but—he was the only man in the room.
+
+  SALTER. Who was?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Macready. When I identified him.
+
+  SALTER. Well, what of it? You identified him, didn’t you? You don’t
+    deny that?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. They told me I had to.
+
+  SALTER. Who did?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. The men. The detectives.
+
+  SALTER. Now, you’re going to forget about this letter, you understand?
+    You’re going to forget about all that and testify to the story you
+    told in your affidavit.
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Mr. Salter, I really couldn’t identify him. I was too far
+    away. And I’ve—Mr. Salter, I’ve been looking from that
+    window,—and—I—couldn’t have seen the shooting at all. I heard the
+    shot, but I couldn’t see where it was. And—Mr. Gluckstein knows
+    that—
+
+  SALTER. How does he know?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. He came to the apartment.
+
+  SALTER. So you’ve been talking to the defense?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. I didn’t know who he was then. He came and asked if he
+    could look out the window, and he asked me where the shooting was.
+    I’d said the shooting was on the other side of the track, and you
+    can’t see the street there because there’s a railroad tower in the
+    way—and anyway—
+
+  SALTER. When you made this statement did you know you couldn’t see
+    that part of the street from your window?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. No, sir. I thought I could. I didn’t really see the
+    shooting. I looked out after I heard the shot.
+
+  SALTER. Now get this straight, Mrs. Lubin. You’re not conducting this
+    prosecution. I’ll take care of any little discrepancies between what
+    you saw and what you couldn’t see. I want only one thing of you and
+    that one thing I’m going to get. I want you to tell your story on
+    the stand exactly as you told it before the magistrate.
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. I tell you I can’t.
+
+  SALTER. You’ll find you can. Tell me, Mrs. Lubin, why did you swear to
+    this in the first place? Do you remember?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. They told me I had to.
+
+  SALTER. Was there any special reason why you had to?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. No.
+
+  SALTER. I have your record here, Mrs. Lubin. You have a grown son
+    up-state, haven’t you?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Does your son know that in 1915 you conducted a certain type
+    of house at 54 Charles Street?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Oh, God, are you going over that again?
+
+  SALTER. Not unless I have to. There are a good many things in this
+    paper which have never come to the ears of your son. Shall I read it
+    to you?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN [_hopelessly_]. No.
+
+  SALTER. Very well. We’ll forget that. I think you’ve failed to realize
+    the extent to which the state is interested in this case, and also
+    the extent to which the state is interested in you. You are a
+    citizen of this country, Mrs. Lubin. Do you believe in the
+    constitution?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. Do you reverence the flag?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. Then why do you change your testimony to shield anarchists?
+    You’ll find that very hard to explain, Mrs. Lubin.
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. I don’t—I—
+
+  SALTER. Perhaps you are yourself an anarchist, Mrs. Lubin. Perhaps you
+    have been bought off by the defense.
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. I’m not being paid—
+
+  SALTER. I don’t say you are. I’m just saying it might look that way.
+    To a jury. The question is, would a jury believe you? It looks like
+    perjury, and if it came to a perjury trial how much of your past
+    would you be able to conceal from your son?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN [_deciding_]. Very well.
+
+  SALTER. I give you my word, Mrs. Lubin, it is your duty as a citizen
+    to stick to your story.
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Very well, I will.
+
+  SALTER. Exactly as in the affidavit?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir. Is that all?
+
+  SALTER. That’s all.
+
+  [_Mrs. Lubin goes out. The Attendant appears._]
+
+  ATTENDANT. Bartlet’s here, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Bartlet?
+
+  ATTENDANT. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Send him in. [_The Attendant ushers in Bartlet, a youth of
+    eighteen with a sodden face. He slumps in a chair._] Well, sir, what
+    have you got to say to me?
+
+  BARTLET. Me? They said you wanted to see me.
+
+  SALTER. Stand up! When I want you to sit down I’ll tell you.
+
+  [_Bartlet rises._]
+
+  BARTLET. All right.
+
+  SALTER. I’ve heard about you. You couldn’t wait to get to court to
+    give your testimony. You had to spread yourself all over town. Tell
+    me what you’ve been saying.
+
+  BARTLET. What I’ve been saying?
+
+  SALTER. You heard me.
+
+  BARTLET. I haven’t been saying much.
+
+  SALTER. Don’t lie to me! Sit down! [_Bartlet sits._] Did you identify
+    Capraro?
+
+  BARTLET. Well—I—
+
+  SALTER. Did you identify Capraro?
+
+  BARTLET. What if I did? I guess I was—I guess I was mistaken.
+
+  SALTER. Listen to me, Bartlet. When you start swearing to evidence
+    there’s only one safe thing to do—and that’s tell one story and
+    stick to it. Now you’ve told your story and if you stick to it
+    you’ll be protected—
+
+  BARTLET. Yeah, but—
+
+  SALTER. But you start talking in court the way you’ve been talking
+    down at the mill and you’re going to talk yourself into enough
+    trouble to make you look sick the rest of your life. You said last
+    spring that Capraro looked like the man you saw in the car—
+
+  BARTLET. Yeah, but I couldn’t say it was him—
+
+  SALTER. You don’t have to say it was him. I wouldn’t want you to.
+    You’ll say it was the dead image of him. Can you remember that? The
+    dead image of him.
+
+  BARTLET. Maybe that wouldn’t be right.
+
+  SALTER. It’s true, isn’t it? It looked like Capraro. All right, say
+    that.
+
+  BARTLET. It looked like Capraro, all right.
+
+  SALTER. Certainly it did. It was the dead image of him. And mind you,
+    that doesn’t mean it was Capraro. That means it looked like him. Can
+    you remember that?
+
+  BARTLET. Yeah, I guess that’d be all right.
+
+  SALTER. Can you remember it?
+
+  BARTLET. The dead image of him, sure.
+
+  SALTER. And if you aren’t going to stay with it you’d better tell me
+    now.
+
+  BARTLET. All right.
+
+  SALTER [_changing tone_]. You know, Bartlet, there’s a good many of us
+    taking an interest in you around here. Some of us haven’t been quite
+    sure whether you’d turn yellow or come through like a man. It isn’t
+    as if these birds weren’t guilty, you know. We know they’re guilty.
+    Why, damn it, they believe in murder. It’s part of their platform.
+    Do you know why you thought Capraro looked like the man in the car?
+
+  BARTLET. No.
+
+  SALTER. Well, I’ll tell you. Because he was the man in the car. Talk
+    about the dead image of him! It was Capraro!
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir, it was the dead image of him.
+
+  SALTER [_under his breath_]. Jesus Christ! [_He goes back to his
+    desk._] All right, Bartlet. You’ll be called this afternoon. And
+    we’re depending on you.
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir. [_He goes out._]
+
+  [_There is a knock at the door._]
+
+  SALTER. Come in. [_Gluckstein enters._] Why, hello, Gluckie. How’s the
+    Soviet today?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Pretty well, thanks. How’s the White Guard?
+
+  SALTER. A bit shaky, but game.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Listen, Salter—just man to man, now—you know my boys
+    aren’t guilty, don’t you?
+
+  SALTER. You’re a man of high principles, Gluckie, if they weren’t
+    innocent you wouldn’t defend ’em—not for a minute.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. But seriously now, Salter. I don’t mind telling you I’m
+    worried. I know you haven’t any case. I know you haven’t any
+    evidence. I know the boys aren’t guilty. I know the case looks as if
+    it was going against you. But if you keep on playing up the
+    Bolshevik business to that jury—why, it’s plain murder. You tell
+    that jury a man’s a radical and the whole twelve will vote to hang
+    him. And do you think they’re guilty?
+
+  SALTER. That’s what we’re here to find out, friend. That’s what the
+    jury’s for.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Well—maybe it’s too much to ask.
+
+  SALTER. I guess it is.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. You wouldn’t consider playing the game fair?
+
+  SALTER. Old man, I’m a District Attorney. I’m paid to play the game.
+    I’m supposed to win if I can.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Well, but, for God’s sake, have a little decency about it.
+    That bomb last night, for instance.—That’s dirty, you know.
+
+  SALTER. Your clients have amusing little friends.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. _My_ clients!
+
+  SALTER. You don’t think we’d do that—?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Well—
+
+  SALTER. Well, God knows I don’t know. Why the foreman of a jury should
+    hitch a bomb under his front porch. It’s just my good luck, that’s
+    all.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. And why are my witnesses shadowed, Salter? And why am I
+    shadowed?
+
+  SALTER. I don’t know about the witnesses.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Then how about me? Is it fair to put plain-clothes men on
+    my trail?
+
+  SALTER. You mean you’ve been followed?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. You know I have.
+
+  SALTER. Gluckie, you’ve been followed by nothing but your own bad
+    conscience. You mean you’ve had detectives following my detectives?
+    Gluckie, that isn’t right!
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I know the men and I know who pays them.
+
+  SALTER. It’s none of my doing, Gluckie. I’ll tell you the truth about
+    that, though. Somebody was tipped off by somebody that there was a
+    woman somewhere in your spotless young life. That’s all.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. But that’s—that’s contemptible.
+
+  SALTER. Certainly it is. I wouldn’t use anything of the sort. But as a
+    matter of fact I’d advise you to watch your step, Gluckie. Not all
+    the members of my club are men of conscience, like me.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I see.
+
+  SALTER. Then there’s something in it?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. No.
+
+  SALTER. No? Well—it might be better on the whole if you didn’t win the
+    case, you see? That is, as far as you’re concerned personally.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. That’s blackmail, isn’t it?
+
+  SALTER. Well, not legally. And you have nothing to worry about,
+    anyway. Because I don’t think you can win, Gluckie. I don’t think
+    you’ve got a chance in the world. I almost wish you had. That’s
+    straight.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Well—we’ll see.
+
+  SALTER. Sure, we’ll see.
+
+  [_Gluckstein goes out. Salter goes wearily to the telephone, takes it
+    up, thinks a minute, then takes the receiver off the hook._] Get me
+    Spiker, will you? Hello, hello! Hello, Spiker—say, listen, Spiker,
+    this is Salter. Wait a minute, listen to me. You’re a low-down crook
+    and I hate your guts and I could win this case without you, do you
+    get that? All right, many of them—but if you want that guy Henry in
+    court when the old man testifies you’d better bring him along this
+    afternoon, just to make sure. Yeah? Well, now listen to me some
+    more. I think you’re all set to queer this case with your
+    under-cover stuff. If this is Department of Justice information it’s
+    probably crooked and it’s probably dirty, because I’ve played with
+    them before. [_A silence._] Well, damn it, when do I get my data?
+    I’ve got to talk, you know. I’m no moving picture. All right. Have
+    him up near the stand. Well, you can explain it to him, can’t you?
+    If he used to be a sheriff he ought to know that much. [_The
+    Attendant enters._] I haven’t got time. The session starts at one.
+
+  ATTENDANT. Are you ready, Mr. Salter?
+
+  SALTER [_in the phone_]. Yeah, I think they will. I don’t know whether
+    he knows it or not. Oh, it’s a pleasure, a pleasure! [_He hangs
+    up._] No brains, that’s all, no brains. [_He picks up his manuscript
+    and makes for the door._]
+
+
+                                CURTAIN
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+                                 ACT II
+
+
+                                SCENE II
+
+_Scene: The court room with the court in session. Judge Vail is on the
+bench; the jury sits back opaque and weary; Gluckstein waits nervously;
+Salter is examining Mrs. Lubin, who is on the witness stand; Macready
+and Capraro sit in irons, with guards on either side; Rosalie, Suvorin,
+Bartlet and Mrs. Lubin’s son wait to be called as witnesses. Attendants
+right and left of Bench Sergeant at door left._
+
+  SALTER. Now from that point will you tell the story in your own words,
+    Mrs. Lubin?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. From the time I went to the window?
+
+  SALTER. Yes.
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. I was looking out and I noticed there wasn’t much traffic
+    for a Saturday afternoon, and—
+
+  SALTER. Go on.
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Then I noticed there was a train on the track and the
+    gates were down, but the engine was backing up again—well, there
+    were only two automobiles south of the tracks and they could have
+    gone on, but they didn’t because there was some kind of a fight
+    there. One of the cars was a Ford and the other was a larger car, a
+    Buick, I thought—
+
+  SALTER. Open or closed?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Open. Then there was a shot and I saw a man jump into the
+    large car. He was carrying something I couldn’t see. And then the
+    car went up the street around the corner. But the Ford stayed there
+    and people came running.
+
+  SALTER. You say there was a shot, Mrs. Lubin. Did you see who fired
+    that shot?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN [_looking down_]. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Who was it?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Macready.
+
+  SALTER. Where was he when he fired the shot?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. At the steering wheel.
+
+  SALTER. And the other man, the one that jumped into the car, do you
+    know who it was?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. No, sir. His back was toward me.
+
+  SALTER. Do you see Macready in this room, Mrs. Lubin.
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Where is he?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. He is one of the defendants. The tall one.
+
+  SALTER. Thank you, Mrs. Lubin.
+
+  [_Mrs. Lubin starts to rise._]
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Does the defense wish to examine?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I do.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. You may take the witness.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. There is one point in your story which I wish you would
+    explain in greater detail, Mrs. Lubin. You say you saw this shooting
+    from the front window of your apartment on the third floor?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. On which side of the railroad track were these two cars
+    when the shooting occurred?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. On the south side.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Now isn’t it true, Mrs. Lubin, that there is a signal
+    tower between your apartment windows and the tracks which entirely
+    shuts off your view of the street south of the railroad?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Not entirely.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Almost entirely?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Not so much as that.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. You have a son, haven’t you, Mrs. Lubin?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Do you see him in court?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Had you expected to see him here?
+
+  SALTER. I don’t see what that has to do with it!
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. One moment.
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. No, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Has your son ever visited you in your apartment?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Is he familiar with the details of it?
+
+  MRS. LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Now, Mrs. Lubin, can you look your son in the eyes and say
+    again that it was possible to see that shooting where you said it
+    was—?
+
+  SALTER. I object to that. She answered that!
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Objection sustained. Strike out the question.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Very well. That is all. [_He sits down._]
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Call the next witness.
+
+  [_Mrs. Lubin leaves the stand._]
+
+  SALTER. Jerome Bartlet.
+
+  ATTENDANT. Jerome Bartlet will take the stand.
+
+  [_Bartlet goes up to the stand._]
+
+  ATTENDANT. Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth,
+    so help you God?
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir.
+
+  MACREADY. Ha! Ha!
+
+  [_The Judge raps for order._]
+
+  SALTER. How old are you, Mr. Bartlet?
+
+  BARTLET. Twenty-four.
+
+  SALTER. Where are you employed?
+
+  BARTLET. At the mill. The planing mill on Front Street.
+
+  SALTER. Where were you at four-fifteen on the afternoon of April
+    second of this year?
+
+  BARTLET. I was going home from work along the docks along Front
+    Street.
+
+  SALTER. And did anything especial occur on that afternoon as you were
+    going home?
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Tell us what it was, please.
+
+  BARTLET. Just before I got to the railroad track I heard a shot and I
+    thought I’d better get out of the way, so I—
+
+  SALTER. Tell us what else you saw.
+
+  BARTLET. I saw a man fall over a wheel in a Ford by the tracks. The
+    Ford was standing still because the gates was down. And then I saw a
+    man jump away from the Ford and get in another car—
+
+  SALTER. And then what—?
+
+  BARTLET. Then the gates was coming up, so the car went up Front Street
+    and turned off, and then I saw a policeman jumping in a car—and it
+    went after them—
+
+  SALTER. And the Ford stayed there?
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir, the man was shot.
+
+  SALTER. Did you see who did the shooting?
+
+  BARTLET. No, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Did you see the face of the man who jumped into the other car
+    after the shooting occurred?
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Have you seen him since?
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Did you identify him?
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Who was he?
+
+  BARTLET. I said he looked like Capraro.
+
+  SALTER. Oh, he looked like Capraro. How much did he look like him?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I object to that.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Overruled.
+
+  SALTER. Would you say it was Capraro?
+
+  BARTLET. It was the dead image of him.
+
+  SALTER. That is all, your Honor. The prosecution rests.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. The defense may take the witness.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Where did you say you were, Mr. Bartlet, at four-fifteen
+    on the afternoon of April second?
+
+  BARTLET. I was—I was watching the—robbery. I was going home from work.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. And how do you fix the time in your mind? How do you know
+    it was four-fifteen?
+
+  BARTLET. I get out of the mill at four—on Saturdays, I do.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. And how do you know it was April second?
+
+  BARTLET. Well, it was the day the murder happened, because I saw it.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Where were you standing when you saw it?
+
+  BARTLET. Right near the gate to the pier there.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Were you on the south or the north side of the tracks?
+
+  BARTLET. The south side.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. On which side of the tracks did the murder occur?
+
+  BARTLET. The south side—where I was.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. You say you heard the shooting and then saw a man jump
+    into a car which drove away?
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you see the shooting or only hear it?
+
+  BARTLET. I heard it.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. And you saw this man who jumped into the car?
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. And you say he looked like Capraro?
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Do you say he was Capraro?
+
+  BARTLET. No, sir. It was the dead image of him.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Oh, it was not Capraro. It was the dead image of him?
+
+  BARTLET. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. What do you mean by the dead image of him?
+
+  BARTLET. Well, it looked like him.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Do you mean it was a dead image that looked like him?
+
+  SALTER. Objection.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Sustained. You need not answer that question.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Your Honor, this witness quite evidently has no notion of
+    the meaning of the phrase “dead image.” It is my belief that his use
+    of it will mislead the jury unless we hear an explanation of it from
+    his own lips.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. You must allow the jury to decide what he means, Mr.
+    Gluckstein.
+
+  [_Gluckstein bows._]
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. When you identified Capraro as the man who leaped into the
+    murder car, Mr. Bartlet, what was the procedure followed? Were there
+    other men in the room, or was Capraro there alone?
+
+  SALTER. Objection.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Sustained. The method of identification should not concern
+    us here. We assume that every precaution was taken by the police
+    against the possibility of error.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I do not assume that, your Honor.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Then you have not properly prepared for the question. We
+    are not investigating the methods of identification customary in
+    this state.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Your Honor, my point is that the methods of identification
+    employed by the State in securing evidence for this trial were
+    arbitrary, unusual, and deliberately pre-arranged to incriminate the
+    defendants.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. You have witnesses to that effect?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. The prosecution is well aware that every possible
+    hindrance has been put in the way of my obtaining such evidence!
+
+  SALTER [_on his feet_]. If you have evidence of anything like that!—
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. The objection is sustained. You may proceed.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I enter an exception. [_The Judge bows. Gluckstein turns
+    to Bartlet._] What do you mean by dead image, Mr. Bartlet?
+
+  BARTLET. I mean it looked like him. Short and dark.
+
+  SALTER. Objection! I object to that! That question has been answered!
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. You are a little late, Mr. Salter, nevertheless the
+    objection is sustained. Strike out the question and answer.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. May I point out to your Honor that his second answer does
+    not tally with the first—
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. The second question is not admissible in the record.
+    Proceed.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. In that case, I have finished with the cross-examination.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. You have a number of witnesses to call in rebuttal, I
+    understand?
+
+  [_Bartlet leaves the stand._]
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Yes, your Honor. Harry Lubin.
+
+  ATTENDANT. Harry Lubin to the stand. [_Mrs. Lubin’s son comes forward.
+    He is a young countryman of twenty-two or thereabout._] Do you swear
+    to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so
+    help you God?
+
+  LUBIN. I do.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. How old are you, Mr. Lubin?
+
+  LUBIN. Twenty-two.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Where are you employed?
+
+  LUBIN. I’ve been working on a farm up north.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Are you the son of Mrs. Lubin, who testified a few moments
+    ago?
+
+  LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Have you lived at your mother’s home recently?
+
+  LUBIN. No, sir. Not since I can remember. I’ve always lived on my
+    uncle’s farm up-state.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. You have visited your mother in the apartment she now
+    occupies?
+
+  LUBIN. Yes, sir. Quite often.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. How often?
+
+  LUBIN. Maybe once or twice a year.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. And she has lived there how long?
+
+  LUBIN. About ten years.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you find anything strange about your mother’s
+    testimony?
+
+  SALTER. I object to that.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. You will reframe your question.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Have you ever looked out the front windows of your
+    mother’s apartment on Front Street?
+
+  LUBIN. Yes, sir. Often.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Is it possible to see the street south of the tracks from
+    those windows?
+
+  LUBIN. Very little of it.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. In case you were looking out from the front of that
+    apartment and the gates were down across the tracks, would it be
+    possible to see the face of the driver of a car on the south side of
+    the tracks.
+
+  LUBIN. Not usually.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. It would sometimes?
+
+  LUBIN. Yes, sir. If a car happened to be standing at the far side of
+    the street.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Would it be possible to see the face of a driver of more
+    than one car at the same time?
+
+  LUBIN. I’ve never been able to.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. You have tried it?
+
+  LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. When?
+
+  LUBIN. After my mother identified one of the men in the robbery.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. And did you ask her how she happened to be able to see the
+    face of the man in the car?
+
+  LUBIN. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Do you remember her answer?
+
+  SALTER. Objection. This court is hardly interested in hearsay.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. The question is relevant, Mr. Salter. Answer the question.
+
+  LUBIN. At first she said the car was on the far side of the street—but
+    it couldn’t have been there because that was where the Ford was
+    standing, so she finally—
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Yes?
+
+  LUBIN. She finally said she didn’t see the robbery at all. She said
+    she looked out after the shot was fired.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you ask her anything else?
+
+  SALTER. Objection!
+
+  JUDGE. Answer the question.
+
+  LUBIN. I asked her why she identified Macready if she couldn’t see
+    him, and she said she had a reason she couldn’t tell me. And then
+    she said—
+
+  [_Mrs. Lubin is sobbing quietly._]
+
+  SALTER. Your Honor, will you allow this to continue?
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. It is quite relevant.
+
+  LUBIN. She said she’d take it back—she wouldn’t identify him in the
+    trial.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Do you know why she has changed her mind again?
+
+  LUBIN. No, sir. I can’t understand it.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Thank you, Mr. Lubin. That is all.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Has the State any question?
+
+  SALTER. No questions.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. The witness is excused.
+
+  [_Lubin goes back to his place. His Mother looks up at him, then looks
+    away. Lubin puts his arm about her for a moment. Then sits._]
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Call Miss Rosalie Suvorin.
+
+  ATTENDANT. Miss Suvorin to the stand. [_Rosalie comes to the witness
+    chair._] You understand the value of an oath, Miss Suvorin?
+
+  ROSALIE. I do.
+
+  ATTENDANT. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and
+    nothing but the truth, so help you God?
+
+  ROSALIE. I do.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I have only a few questions to ask you, Miss Suvorin.
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Where were you on the evening of April second of this
+    year?
+
+  ROSALIE. The Lyceum restaurant on Laden Street.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you during that evening see either of the defendants?
+
+  ROSALIE. I saw both of them.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you have any conversation with Mr. Macready?
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Will you give us the substance of what was said?
+
+  ROSALIE. We talked about where he had been that afternoon—and
+    about—whether it wasn’t foolish for him to get mixed up in strikes.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did Mr. Macready tell you what part he had taken in the
+    strike that afternoon?
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Do you know what Macready did with the gun he took from
+    the car?
+
+  ROSALIE. He gave it to me.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you look at it?
+
+  ROSALIE. No, sir, I put it in the cash drawer.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Do you know whether any of the chambers had been fired
+    when he gave it to you?
+
+  ROSALIE. No, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Now, I’m going to ask you a personal question, Miss
+    Suvorin, because if I don’t ask it, it will be asked by the
+    prosecution. What were your relations with Mr. Macready?
+
+  ROSALIE. We—are engaged to be married—
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. You are still engaged to be married?
+
+  ROSALIE [_looking at Macready_]. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you encourage him to take part in the strike?
+
+  ROSALIE. No, sir. I asked him not to. We quarreled about that.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Was it a serious quarrel?
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes, sir. I told him I wouldn’t marry him. But I would now.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Have you seen him since that evening?
+
+  ROSALIE. No, sir. They wouldn’t let me.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Why not?
+
+  ROSALIE. They said I was a material witness.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. But you are still engaged to marry him?
+
+  ROSALIE. I think so. I’m—I’m in love with him. And I’m telling him now
+    because it’s the only chance I have—
+
+  SALTER. Objection.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Quite right. I thank you, Miss Suvorin.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Has the prosecution any questions?
+
+  SALTER. A very few, your honor. I also, Miss Suvorin, have only a few
+    questions I wish to ask you. Were you present, Miss Suvorin, on the
+    evening of the robbery when Mr. Macready was arrested?
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes, I was.
+
+  SALTER. As you remember it, what was Mr. Macready’s attitude toward
+    the arrest?
+
+  ROSALIE. His attitude?
+
+  SALTER. Yes, did he resist the arrest?
+
+  ROSALIE. No, sir.
+
+  SALTER. There has been evidence here, my dear, that Mr. Macready
+    struck a detective. You don’t remember that?
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes, but the detective had pretended he was an I.W.W. He’d
+    been in the strike with them.
+
+  SALTER. Then Mr. Macready did strike the detective?
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Then he did resist arrest?
+
+  ROSALIE. He didn’t want to be arrested.
+
+  SALTER. No. Certainly not. Now, is it true, Miss Suvorin, that you ran
+    to him and took part in the struggle?
+
+  ROSALIE. I don’t remember. I think so.
+
+  SALTER. Were you trying to save him from something when you did that?
+
+  ROSALIE. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER [_menacing_]. Were you trying to save him from death in the
+    electric chair for the murder of Kendall?
+
+  ROSALIE. No, sir.
+
+  SALTER. Mr. Macready had come to you and given you this weapon and
+    asked you to hide it.
+
+  ROSALIE. He didn’t ask me to hide it!
+
+  SALTER. Then why did you say you knew nothing about the weapon when
+    the police found it?
+
+  ROSALIE. I was afraid.
+
+  SALTER. What were you afraid of?
+
+  ROSALIE. I was afraid they wouldn’t believe what he’d told me about
+    it.
+
+  SALTER. You mean that you two had made up a story about this weapon
+    and that you were afraid it wasn’t good enough?
+
+  ROSALIE. No, sir—we hadn’t made—
+
+  SALTER. Yes or no is enough.
+
+  ROSALIE. No.
+
+  SALTER. Do you mean to tell this court that you come here to give
+    unbiased testimony in favor of the defendants?
+
+  ROSALIE. I’m telling the truth.
+
+  SALTER. Did you tell the truth to the detectives about the gun you had
+    in the cash drawer?
+
+  ROSALIE. No.
+
+  SALTER. When did you make up your mind to change your story?
+
+  ROSALIE. I don’t know.
+
+  SALTER. You’re in love with Macready, aren’t you? You’d say anything
+    to save him?
+
+  ROSALIE. I—
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I object to that!
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Strike out the question.
+
+  SALTER. That’s all.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Will you call your next witness, Mr. Gluckstein? [_He
+    looks at his watch._]
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. James Macready.
+
+  [_Macready is led to the stand by an officer._]
+
+  ATTENDANT. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and
+    nothing but the truth?
+
+  MAC. Now just for a change from the prosecution’s witnesses, I do.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Will you tell me, Mr. Macready, where you were at
+    four-fifteen on the afternoon of the murder of Kendall?
+
+  MAC. I was walking north along Front Street.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. You left the scene of the rioting?
+
+  MAC. Yes, sir. After I got away with that gun I thought I’d better not
+    go back. They knew I had it, and they’d have pulled me for having
+    it.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. How far was the scene of the rioting from the tracks where
+    the crime was committed?
+
+  MAC. All of a mile.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. The time of the rioting has been fixed by many witnesses
+    at about four o’clock. Would it have been possible for you to reach
+    the scene of the crime by four-fifteen?
+
+  MAC. Well, the mix-up had been going on about fifteen minutes before I
+    left.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Then you started north at about four-fifteen?
+
+  MAC. I think so.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. If you had walked south you’d have been going toward the
+    scene of the robbery?
+
+  MAC. Yes, sir.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. But you walked north?
+
+  MAC. Yes. Well, at first I was running, you know; later I slowed down.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Where were you going?
+
+  MAC. I went to Capraro’s room. We always went there, and I thought
+    he’d telephone as soon as he got loose from the police.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did he telephone?
+
+  MAC. No.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Do you know why not?
+
+  MAC. He was taking care of Nick, Nick Bardi. Nick was shot by the
+    police, died that evening.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. When did you leave the room?
+
+  MAC. About seven I went over to my room to see if Capraro was there. I
+    hadn’t heard any news and I thought we’d have dinner together.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Was Caprarao there?
+
+  MAC. No.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Where did you go after that?
+
+  MAC. I went to Suvorin’s restaurant in the Lyceum and looked in and
+    there were two policemen eating there, so I went and ate at Joe’s.
+    Then I went to a movie to kill time.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. At what time did you return to the Lyceum?
+
+  MAC. About ten-thirty.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Why did you go there?
+
+  MAC. There was a strike meeting called—and I was one of the speakers.
+    And then I wanted to see Rosalie.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. For any especial reason?
+
+  MAC. No, just wanted to see her.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. How did you happen to give her the revolver?
+
+  MAC. I didn’t want to carry it around.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. How did that revolver come into your possession?
+
+  MAC. A policeman threw it into the car we were riding in, and I
+    grabbed it up and jumped out of the car.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. And what was your motive in that?
+
+  MAC. To prevent the police planting evidence on Mr. Waterman.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you ever fire that revolver?
+
+  MAC. No.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you know, while it was in your possession, that one
+    chamber had been fired?
+
+  MAC. Yes, I looked at it in Capraro’s room.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did that mean anything to you?
+
+  MAC. Not a thing. It was just a service revolver, with one cartridge
+    empty. Only now I think that cartridge killed Bardi.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Were you present at the holdup of Kendall?
+
+  MAC. No.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you shoot Kendall with that service revolver?
+
+  MAC. No. I’ve never shot at anybody—at any time.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. One more question. Are you engaged to marry Rosalie
+    Suvorin?
+
+  MAC. She said she wouldn’t marry me because I got into too much
+    trouble. But if she will, I’m certainly engaged to her.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Are you in love with her?
+
+  MAC [_leaning forward_]. Why drag that in? From the day it started I
+    knew this trial was a railroad train. I took one look at the jury
+    and I knew what they came in here for. Now I’ve listened to about a
+    thousand phoney witnesses, lying like hell, and my impression is
+    they got by a hundred per cent. It won’t make any difference whether
+    I’m in love with a girl or not—not to them. And at that, it’s
+    nobody’s business but the girl’s.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Very well. Thank you, Mr. Macready.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Does the State wish to question?
+
+  SALTER. Yes, your Honor. So you believe, Mr. Macready, that you are
+    going to be convicted?
+
+  MAC. If it can be fixed it will be.
+
+  SALTER. What makes you so pessimistic, Mr. Macready?
+
+  MAC. I’ve been around in this country some, and I’ve seen the courts
+    work. When you get a red or an agitator in court the custom is to
+    soak him.
+
+  SALTER. Have you ever been convicted of a crime?
+
+  MAC. Well, I’ve been convicted of belonging to the I.W.W. out in
+    California, if you call that a crime.
+
+  SALTER. Were you guilty?
+
+  MAC. I was of being an I.W.W.
+
+  SALTER. What are the principles of the I.W.W.?
+
+  MAC. One big union, organized to break the capitalistic stranglehold
+    on natural resources.
+
+  SALTER. Does the I.W.W. advocate violence?
+
+  MAC. Only when expedient, which is seldom.
+
+  SALTER. When does it consider violence expedient?
+
+  MAC. Listen, we’re taking up time here. If you’re interested in the
+    I.W.W. I’ve got a book I’d like to lend you. You can read it in
+    fifteen minutes, and when you get through, you’ll know something
+    about economics.
+
+  SALTER. Thank you. But do you advocate violence?
+
+  MAC. I never have.
+
+  SALTER. You would if you thought it expedient?
+
+  MAC. I would. So would you. So does everybody.
+
+  SALTER. And you don’t think the workers get justice in this country?
+
+  MAC. No. Do you? Did you ever hear of a policeman hitting a capitalist
+    over the head?
+
+  SALTER. Do you believe in our constitution?
+
+  MAC. I believe it was made by a little group of hogs to protect their
+    own trough. Anyway, why bring up the constitution when you don’t
+    even enforce the bill of rights? The whole damn thing’s a dead
+    letter except the eighteenth amendment, and the only reason we make
+    a play for enforcing that is because there’s graft in it! You use
+    the courts and the constitution and the flag and the local police to
+    protect capital and keep the working man in his place! Whenever
+    there’s a law that might be to the working man’s advantage, you
+    forget that one! That’s why you forget the bill of rights! And when
+    some law gets passed by accident that might hamper capital, you
+    forget that! You forgot the Sherman Act till some of you figured out
+    how you could apply it to the Labor Unions! And then, Jesus Christ,
+    how quick you put it on ’em!
+
+  [_Judge Vail’s gavel falls._]
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Have you no respect for the courts, sir?
+
+  MAC. Certainly not. The courts are the flunkies of the rich.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. You realize that you are on trial in this court for your
+    life?
+
+  MAC. Do you think you can scare me into respecting you?
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. I merely wish to warn you, sir, that in this frame of mind
+    you make an exceedingly poor witness in your defense.
+
+  MAC. It’s my usual frame of mind.
+
+  SALTER. So you don’t advocate violence?
+
+  MAC. No. If I did I wouldn’t work through the unions.
+
+  SALTER. Isn’t it true that you and Capraro and a man named Nick Bardi,
+    who was killed, organized the attack on the police on the afternoon
+    of the murder?
+
+  MAC. We didn’t attack the police. They attacked us. We did nothing we
+    didn’t have a right to do under that constitution you’re talking
+    about.
+
+  SALTER. But you knew there would be violence?
+
+  MAC. We knew the police could always be trusted to start something.
+
+  SALTER. You had been warned not to try to reestablish your picket
+    lines?
+
+  MAC. We had. By a corporation judge.
+
+  SALTER. Now, Mr. Macready, isn’t it true that you and Capraro started
+    this riot to draw the police and make it easy to get away after
+    robbing the payroll?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I object.
+
+  MAC. I’ll answer it. No, it is not true.
+
+  SALTER. Why did you resist arrest?
+
+  MAC. I hit Spiker because he double-crossed me.
+
+  SALTER. Did you make no other resistance?
+
+  MAC. Maybe I did. I didn’t like the idea of being arrested.
+
+  SALTER. Have you ever heard of such a thing as the consciousness of
+    guilt?
+
+  MAC. I didn’t feel it.
+
+  SALTER. Why did you turn away from the restaurant when you saw two
+    policemen inside?
+
+  MAC. That’s a childish question. What would you do if you’d just been
+    in a brush with the police?
+
+  SALTER. When you leaped from the car, you knocked a policeman down.
+    Was that because you don’t believe in violence?
+
+  MAC. He was in my way.
+
+  SALTER. You have no respect for authority?
+
+  MAC. Respect for authority is a superstition. And the sooner everybody
+    gets over it, the better.
+
+  SALTER. Where were you during the war?
+
+  MAC. I was in Bisbee, Arizona, at the time of the deportations. I was
+    in Everett at the time of the I.W.W. massacre. You heard about that,
+    I suppose? When the gallant business men of Everett came out and
+    shot down wobblies in cold blood?
+
+  SALTER. You were a pacifist and an agitator during the war?
+
+  MAC. I was, and I am proud of it. What were you in the war?
+
+  SALTER. Do you have respect for that flag?
+
+  MAC. What does it stand for? If it stands for the kind of government
+    we’ve got in Washington and for you and your kind, all right, I’ve
+    got as much respect for it as I’ve got for the government in
+    Washington—and for you and your kind! Who killed Salsedo?
+
+  SALTER. I think I understand you—and I think the court and the jury
+    understand you. That’s all, Mr. Macready.
+
+  [_There is a brief silence. Then the Foreman of the jury rises slowly,
+    a long finger stretched out at Macready._]
+
+  FOREMAN. There’s one thing I’d like to ask. There was a bomb set off
+    under my house last night. Now I don’t want to do anybody an
+    injustice, but I was under the impression Mr. Macready believed in
+    violence. If he don’t I’d like to know where that bomb came from!
+
+  [_The Judge’s gavel falls._]
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. You are out of order, Mr. Schaler.
+
+  FOREMAN. All right. [_He starts to sit down._]
+
+  MAC [_rising_]. If anybody wants to know who sets bombs in this state—
+
+  SALTER [_to the guards_]. Hold that man.
+
+  [_The Guards leap on Mac, who submits smiling._]
+
+  MAC. What’s the matter, kid? Are you afraid of me?
+
+  [_They haul him to his chair._]
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Your Honor, I move to call this a mistrial. The Foreman of
+    the jury has displayed open prejudice.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. I will take your motion under advisement. Meanwhile let us
+    proceed with the evidence. Is it your intention to place the other
+    defendant on the stand?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. One moment. [_He bends over and speaks low to Capraro._]
+    Mr. Capraro will take the stand.
+
+  [_Capraro does so._]
+
+  ATTENDANT. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and
+    nothing but the truth?
+
+  CAPRARO. As near as I can.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. There are two possible answers to that question: I do, or
+    I do not.
+
+  CAPRARO. You must excuse me. I do.—As near as I can.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Do you mean that you will tell the truth to the best of
+    your knowledge and belief?
+
+  CAPRARO. If you like that phrase better—yes, I do. But I would not
+    wish you to believe that I would know the truth better than other
+    men, for it seems to me that no man would know the truth exactly.
+
+  [_Judge Vail smiles frigidly._]
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. The court is aware of that, Mr. Capraro. We expect only
+    that you tell the truth as you see it.
+
+  CAPRARO. I will try, Mr. Gluckstein.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I want you to tell me first, Mr. Capraro, where you were
+    at four-fifteen on the day of the murder of the paymaster.
+
+  CAPRARO. I think I was taking care of Nick Bardi.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. How did that happen?
+
+  CAPRARO. After they throw the gun in the car and Mac runs away with
+    it, I am sitting at the wheel while they arrest Mr. Waterman, the
+    lawyer. They seem to pay no attention to me at first, and when they
+    leave me alone in the car there is a great deal of excitement and I
+    just drive away. [_He smiles._]
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Where did you drive?
+
+  CAPRARO. I drive around the block and leave the car there. I am
+    planning to wait there until Mr. Waterman will wish me to drive him
+    somewhere—police station—home—somewhere.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. And where did you go after leaving the car?
+
+  CAPRARO. I went back where the fight was and then I saw Nick Bardi
+    trying to get up off the ground. He said he was shot at the first
+    but he didn’t know it was bad till he fell down. So I help and we
+    went to the car and go to his house. When the doctor comes he says
+    to take Nick to the hospital and before long he is dead in the
+    hospital, and I take the car to the garage where Mr. Waterman keeps
+    it. Then I walk to the restaurant in the Lyceum.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. At what time did you reach the restaurant?
+
+  CAPRARO. Maybe eleven o’clock.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you make any resistance when arrested?
+
+  CAPRARO. Not much. But I am not used to it. [_He smiles._]
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Were you present when Kendall was shot?
+
+  CAPRARO. No, I could not be.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. When did you first learn that he had been killed?
+
+  CAPRARO. In the newspaper, in Suvorin’s.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Is it true that after you drove away from the pier you
+    picked up Macready and drove south to carry out the holdup of the
+    paymaster?
+
+  CAPRARO. No. To that I can say I am very sure. No.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. That is all, Mr. Capraro. Thank you.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. The prosecution may take the witness.
+
+  SALTER. How much money have you in the bank, Mr. Capraro?
+
+  CAPRARO. I do not know. Not exactly. But not much.
+
+  SALTER. Do you remember depositing five thousand dollars in the City
+    Bank on April second?
+
+  CAPRARO. That was not my money. That was relief funds.
+
+  SALTER. You could draw checks on it, couldn’t you?
+
+  CAPRARO. Only the committee.
+
+  SALTER. Is it true that the holdup occurred on April second and on
+    that same day you deposited five thousand dollars?
+
+  CAPRARO. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. The City Bank stays open in the evening, doesn’t it?
+
+  CAPRARO. Yes, sir.
+
+  SALTER. You might have robbed the paymaster at four-fifteen and had
+    plenty of time to put money in that bank the same day? It was
+    possible?
+
+  CAPRARO. No, it was not possible for me. I put that money in the bank
+    in the morning.
+
+  SALTER. Do you believe in capitalism?
+
+  CAPRARO. No.
+
+  SALTER. You believe that all property should belong to the workers?
+
+  CAPRARO. Property should belong to those who create it.
+
+  SALTER. You are a communist?
+
+  CAPRARO. I am an anarchist.
+
+  SALTER. What do you mean by that?
+
+  CAPRARO. I mean, government is wrong. It creates trouble.
+
+  SALTER. You would destroy all government?
+
+  CAPRARO. It will not be necessary. I would rather wait till it was so
+    rotten it would rot away. That would not be so long now. [_He
+    smiles._]
+
+  SALTER. You are an anarchist?
+
+  CAPRARO. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. You are against this government of ours?
+
+  CAPRARO. Against all governments.
+
+  SALTER. Have you ever thrown a bomb?
+
+  CAPRARO. No, I would leave that for the other side.
+
+  SALTER. In 1917 you left your home to avoid the draft, didn’t you?
+
+  CAPRARO. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. You opposed the war?
+
+  CAPRARO. It was a war for business, a war for billions of dollars,
+    murder of young men for billions.
+
+  SALTER. You broke the law in evading the draft?
+
+  CAPRARO. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. You don’t mind breaking the law?
+
+  CAPRARO. Sometimes not.
+
+  SALTER. Who decides for you what laws you will break and what laws
+    you’ll keep?
+
+  CAPRARO. I decide it.
+
+  SALTER. Oh, you decide it!
+
+  CAPRARO. Every man decides for himself.
+
+  SALTER. There was nothing to prevent you from deciding to kill a
+    paymaster and putting the money in the bank?
+
+  CAPRARO. No, only I. I would decide against it.
+
+  SALTER. Do you honor that flag?
+
+  CAPRARO. I did before I came to this country. Now I know it is like
+    all the other flags. They are all the same. When we are young boys
+    we look on a flag and believe it is the flag of liberty and happy
+    people—and now I know it is a flag to carry when the old men kill
+    the young men for billions. Now I look at that flag and I hear it
+    saying to me, “How much money have you? If you have plenty of
+    money—then I promise you paradise—I will give you more—I will give
+    you the justice and freedom of your neighbours! But if you are poor
+    I am not your flag at all.”
+
+  SALTER. What is your religion, Mr. Capraro?
+
+  CAPRARO. I have none.
+
+  SALTER. You are an atheist?
+
+  CAPRARO. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. You are then an outlaw, bowing neither to the standards of God
+    nor men?
+
+  CAPRARO. I have committed no crime.
+
+  SALTER. And do you expect us to believe that, Mr. Capraro? What, in
+    all solemnity, in the name of God, prevents you from committing
+    crime?
+
+  CAPRARO. Myself. My own heart.
+
+  SALTER. You set yourself above God, above all law, above all control?
+
+  CAPRARO. I have met nobody I would trust to decide for my own soul.
+
+  SALTER. Your Honor, we have stumbled here upon a subject more serious
+    than robbery, more serious than murder. If I had known where my
+    questions were leading, I should have hesitated before asking them.
+    Perhaps I should apologize—
+
+  MAC. You’re goddam right you should! [_The gavel falls._]
+
+  CAPRARO. Is there any reason in your constitution why I should not
+    believe as I think? Is there any reason in your constitution why I
+    should worship your God or your flag?
+
+  SALTER. That is all, your Honor.
+
+  MAC. For Christ’s sake, Amen.
+
+  [_Capraro leaves the stand._]
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Does this conclude your case, Mr. Gluckstein?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. No, your Honor. I have one more witness I should like to
+    call.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Very well.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Michael Suvorin.
+
+  ATTENDANT. Michael Suvorin. To the stand. [_Suvorin rises, seats
+    himself in the witness chair. Sheriff Henry, an elderly, hard-faced
+    man, enters and sits quietly in the rear of the witnesses. Spiker
+    takes a memorandum to Salter, who studies it._] Do you swear to tell
+    the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? so help you
+    God?
+
+  SUVORIN. I do.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. What is your occupation, Mr. Suvorin?
+
+  SUVORIN. I am the keeper of the Lyceum restaurant on Laden Street.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. How long have you been in business there?
+
+  SUVORIN. Ten or twelve years.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Where were you at four-fifteen on the afternoon of April
+    second of this year?
+
+  SUVORIN. Near the railroad tracks on Front Street.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. How did you happen to be there?
+
+  SUVORIN. It is on the way to the produce markets. I was buying
+    supplies for the restaurant.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you witness the murder of Kendall?
+
+  SUVORIN. I did.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you see the men who committed the crime?
+
+  SUVORIN. I did.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you see the shot fired?
+
+  SUVORIN. I did.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Could you identify the bandits?
+
+  SUVORIN. I could.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you see Capraro there?
+
+  SUVORIN. No.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Did you see Macready there?
+
+  SUVORIN. No.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. If they had been there, would you have seen them?
+
+  SUVORIN. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. I object, your Honor. I wasn’t informed of this.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Do you wish a postponement?
+
+  SALTER. No. I merely wish to call the attention of the court to the
+    somewhat arbitrary methods of the defense.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Proceed.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN [_smiling_]. That is all, your Honor.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL [_to Salter_]. Do you wish to question?
+
+  SALTER. Well—a few questions. [_Haltingly._] Your name is Suvorin?
+
+  SUVORIN. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. You are the father of Rosalie Suvorin?
+
+  SUVORIN. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. Isn’t it a little strange, Mr. Suvorin, that you, the father
+    of Miss Suvorin, should have happened to be passing along Front
+    Street at so opportune a moment for your prospective son-in-law?
+
+  SUVORIN. It was strange, yes.
+
+  SALTER. Isn’t it strange, also, that you have so far said nothing
+    about the fact?
+
+  SUVORIN. No. One does not testify unless necessary.
+
+  SALTER. How long have you lived in this country?
+
+  SUVORIN. Thirty years.
+
+  SALTER. Have you spent all of that time in this city?
+
+  SUVORIN. I was in the West for twenty years.
+
+  SALTER. The West?
+
+  SUVORIN. Illinois, West Virginia.
+
+  SALTER. What was your occupation?
+
+  SUVORIN. Coal miner.
+
+  SALTER. Have you ever been convicted of a crime?
+
+  SUVORIN. No.
+
+  SALTER. Are you a citizen of this country?
+
+  SUVORIN. No.
+
+  SALTER. Of what country?
+
+  SUVORIN. None.
+
+  SALTER. You came from what country?
+
+  SUVORIN. Russia.
+
+  SALTER. Why have you not altered your citizenship?
+
+  SUVORIN. I have no interest in politics.
+
+  SALTER. You witnessed the murder of Kendall?
+
+  SUVORIN. Yes.
+
+  SALTER. Had you ever witnessed a crime before?
+
+  SUVORIN. Not that I remember.
+
+  SALTER. You would not remember then, perhaps?
+
+  SUVORIN. I think so.
+
+  SALTER [_turns away as if baffled, then returns_]. Did you ever work
+    in the mills in this state?
+
+  SUVORIN [_pausing_]. No.
+
+  SALTER. I have just been handed the record of a man named Gregorin who
+    worked in the Falltown mills in 1892. You are not that man?
+
+  SUVORIN. No.
+
+  SALTER. The man of whom I speak was one of a radical group of workers
+    who led a strike in which considerable property was destroyed. He
+    was convicted of sabotage and sentenced to twenty years in the
+    federal penitentiary. Before his sentence was complete he escaped.
+    You are not that Gregorin?
+
+  SUVORIN. No.
+
+  SALTER. This man escaped, finding it necessary to murder a guard, as
+    you may remember. He was caught, tried, and sentenced to hang. He
+    escaped once more on the way to prison. You are not the man?
+
+  SUVORIN. No.
+
+  SALTER. If the court will pardon me, I have here also the record of a
+    man named Thievenen who was apprehended in Colorado last year as one
+    of two bandits who robbed a mail truck of $170,000. He escaped from
+    the Denver jail, but not until after he had been finger printed and
+    photographed. You are not by any chance that man Thievenen?
+
+  SUVORIN. No!
+
+  SALTER. I think you are! Mr. Henry, I think this is your prisoner.
+    [_Henry rises._] Your Honor, I am distressed to interrupt the
+    session.
+
+  [_Henry comes forward. Suvorin rises._]
+
+  SUVORIN. I’m not your man yet. I saw you here. You won’t take me till
+    I’m ready.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL [_To Henry_]. You have a warrant for his arrest?
+
+  HENRY. Right here.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Then if the prosecution has finished with the witness—
+
+  SUVORIN [_speaking slowly and heavily_]. He’ll wait for me. You’ll all
+    wait. [_To Salter._] You thought it somewhat strange that I should
+    have been so opportunely at the scene of the murder of Kendall. I’ll
+    explain that. The man who shot down Kendall was killed in White
+    Plains a month ago, by a federal officer. He was what you call a
+    rum-runner in his spare time. So am I—in my spare time. When he
+    needed cash he took it—where he could get it. So do I. We took
+    Kendall’s twenty-eight thousand. We divided it between us. I ought
+    to know. I planned it. I carried it out.
+
+  SALTER. Are you, by any chance, confessing to participation in this
+    crime?
+
+  SUVORIN [_menacing_]. Are you slow in the head? What do you think I’m
+    doing? You asked Macready if he planned the rioting to make his
+    opportunity for the holdup. He did not. But I knew the plans of the
+    longshoremen. I overheard them. And I am guilty and they are not.
+    That may not interest you but it interests me. You would rather they
+    were guilty. You would rather pin this crime on a radical than on a
+    criminal. It suits your plans better. The radicals are not
+    criminals. They are young fools who think they are saving humanity.
+    They think they will change the government and bring in the
+    millenium.
+
+  SALTER. Who killed Kendall, if you don’t mind telling us?
+
+  SUVORIN. Heine, the Gat.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Mr. Gluckstein, were you aware of this person’s record?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. No, your Honor.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Why was he called?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. He told me the story he told first in Court.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL [_To Suvorin_]. What did you say your occupation was, sir?
+
+  SUVORIN. I came to this country a young man. I came believing in it;
+    and I worked in your mines and your mills and I set myself to
+    establish justice to the workers. I was a fool. I believed in
+    Justice. They found me guilty of sabotage and sent me to prison. I
+    studied you there. I knew you there for what you are. I tasted your
+    justice. I drank it deep. I bear its marks on my body and I bear
+    them on my brain. My wife died and I had loved her. She died after
+    fifteen years of your justice and I swore by the bleeding Christ you
+    would pay me! You have paid me.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. I asked you a question.
+
+  SUVORIN. I say you have paid me! I have had my day with you! You have
+    felt me when you least knew it. You have puzzled over me and I have
+    laughed at you. Fifteen years I had my way with you and you’d never
+    have caught me if I hadn’t tried to save innocent men! I have had my
+    revenge—and it was little enough for a woman dead when I could not
+    even say good-bye to her; too little—oh damn you—too little—!
+
+  SALTER. This man’s confession is an obvious fraud. He is under
+    sentence of death. He has nothing to lose. His daughter is to marry
+    Macready. The man on whom he fixes the crime is dead. This story has
+    been concocted to save the defendants.
+
+  SUVORIN. What!
+
+  SALTER. This story has been concocted to save the defendants.
+
+  SUVORIN. I have confessed to this crime—!
+
+  SALTER. Oh, no—you’ve confessed that Heine, the Gat did it—and Heine’s
+    dead. I say it’s a fraud—
+
+  SUVORIN. You do not believe this?
+
+  SALTER. No, I tell you. You’ve got nothing to lose. There’s a murder
+    in your record already.
+
+  SUVORIN. That would be like you, too! To kill us all three, innocent
+    and guilty together—burn us in your little hell to make your world
+    safe for your bankers—you kept Judge, of a kept nation, you dead
+    hand of the dead.
+
+  [_Several jurors rise. The Judge thunders with his gavel. Suvorin puts
+    out his hands for the waiting handcuffs. General confusion._]
+
+
+                                CURTAIN
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+                                 ACT II
+
+
+                               SCENE III
+
+_Scene: The court room._
+
+_There is no jury present; the Judge is on the bench, the Attendants in
+place, and Macready and Capraro face the judge. Aside from the lawyers
+Rosalie is the sole spectator._
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. If the court please I should like to move for a new trial
+    before sentence is pronounced. My motion is based on the depositions
+    of four witnesses. Your Honor has these depositions before you.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. I have read them.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I shall make only a brief summary of the evidence they
+    disclose. Mrs. Lubin, a chief witness for the prosecution, swears
+    that her identification of Macready was obtained under duress. She
+    retracts that identification. Her son, a witness for the defense,
+    corroborates that retraction by evidence tending to show that his
+    mother was threatened with the exposure of certain facts in her
+    history of which he himself had been ignorant. Jerome Bartlet, the
+    only witness to identify Capraro as at the scene of the crime,
+    retracts that identification—
+
+  SALTER. You will find that he has retracted that retraction, Mr.
+    Gluckstein—
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. I know nothing of that. No doubt the attorney for the
+    prosecution has seen him again—
+
+  SALTER. I have.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. The other affidavit is signed by the ballistic expert, Mr.
+    Howard, who appeared in the trial. He states that his answers to the
+    State’s questions were pre-arranged to mislead the jury—
+
+  SALTER. Pre-arranged?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Pre-arranged between himself and the district
+    attorney—that he did not intend to say that the mortal bullet was
+    fired from the pistol in the possession of Macready, but only that
+    it might have been fired from that weapon.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Does this affidavit indicate that Mr. Howard committed
+    perjury during the trial?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. No, your Honor. It merely amplifies the statements made
+    during the trial, which were so worded as to create a false
+    impression.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. If the witness amplifies but does not alter his statements
+    his affidavit cannot be accepted as basis for a new trial. Such a
+    motion strikes at the jury’s competence to decide.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. But the jury was deliberately misled.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Can it be proved that it was misled? Even if there was
+    intention to mislead?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Your Honor, I believe this addition to the expert
+    testimony of sufficient importance to rank as new evidence. And it
+    appears incontrovertible that the identifications are rendered null
+    by the first three affidavits.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. I have considered the additions to the ballistic evidence
+    and I find them in entire accordance with the evidence already in
+    the record. As for the identifications, it does not astonish me that
+    the identification witnesses have withdrawn their testimony. It was
+    obvious to me, and was no doubt obvious to the jury, that the
+    identifications were completely discredited by the defense. The
+    verdict of guilty was brought in on other grounds. In my opinion
+    those grounds must have been the defendant’s consciousness of guilt,
+    as shown by their actions after the crime, and, furthermore, the
+    general principles of the defendants, tallying, as they did, with
+    the circumstantial evidence. These affidavits do not attack those
+    grounds for the verdict, and the motion is therefore denied.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. Does your Honor mean that these men were convicted on
+    circumstantial evidence and consciousness of guilt—?
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. There was no other evidence which was not disposed of most
+    ably during the trial.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. But in that case, your Honor— [_He pauses._]
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Yes?
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. In that case there was no real evidence against these men!
+    And you make that fact the basis for denying a new trial!
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. There was sufficient evidence to convict.—If you have no
+    further motion we will proceed to the sentence.
+
+  THE CLERK. James Macready, have you anything to say why sentence of
+    death should not be passed upon you?
+
+  MAC. Well—no, I guess not. The only reason I can think of is that I’m
+    not guilty of the murder, and that doesn’t seem to have anything to
+    do with this case. I’m not guilty as charged but I am guilty—I’m
+    guilty of being a radical—and that’s what I was convicted for and
+    that’s what you’re sentencing me for. I’m guilty of thinking like a
+    free man and talking like a free man and acting like a free man—and
+    the jury didn’t like it and you don’t like it—and so the logical
+    thing is to put me where I can’t do it any more. I’m guilty of
+    spreading unrest among the slaves and raising hell with slave
+    morality. I’m guilty of exercising my rights under the constitution
+    and I guess the constitution’s gone out in this country. It isn’t
+    being done. So you go right ahead and sentence me, and don’t let
+    your conscience bother you at all, because you’re doing exactly what
+    you were put there for.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. You have quite finished?
+
+  MAC. Oh, quite.
+
+  THE CLERK. Dante Capraro, have you anything to say why sentence of
+    death should not be passed upon you?
+
+  CAPRARO. What I say is that I am innocent, not only of this crime but
+    of all crimes. I have worked, I have worked hard, and those who know
+    these two hands will tell you they have never needed to kill to earn
+    bread. I have earned by labor what I wanted to live, and I have
+    refused to be a member of any class but the working class, even when
+    it could have been, because to be in business is to take profits, to
+    be a parasite, to take what you have not deserved, and that I could
+    not do. All my life I have worked against crime, against the murder
+    of war, against oppression of the poor, against the great crime
+    which is government—. Do not do this thing, Judge Vail. It has been
+    a long time and I have suffered too much to be angry. I know that
+    you have been an unjust judge to us, that you have fear for us, and
+    therefore hate for us—that you have wanted us dead and have taken
+    advantage to kill us. You have ruled to help us in the little things
+    so that you could safely rule against us at the last. But you are an
+    old man, and wearier than we, even if we have been in prison; and
+    you too will die sometime, even if you kill us first. So I say to
+    you, do not do this thing, not because the world looks at us and
+    knows that you are wrong, but because if you do it you will prove
+    that I was right all the time. If you kill us in this one-time free
+    city, in this one-time free country, kill us for no wrong we have
+    done but only for passion of prejudice and greed, then there is no
+    answer to me, no answer to the anarchist who says the power of the
+    State is power for corruption, and in my silence I will silence you.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. Under the law the jury says whether a defendant is guilty
+    or innocent. The court has nothing to do with that question. It is
+    considered and ordered by the court that you, James Macready, and
+    you, Dante Capraro,—
+
+  CAPRARO. I am innocent!
+
+  MAC. You know he’s innocent! You couldn’t listen to him without
+    knowing that!
+
+  CAPRARO. One more moment, your Honor,—I want to speak to Mr.
+    Gluckstein.
+
+  GLUCKSTEIN. It’s too late, Capraro.
+
+  JUDGE VAIL. I think I should pronounce the sentence. That you, James
+    Macready, and you, Dante Capraro, suffer the punishment of death by
+    the passage of a current of electricity through your body within the
+    week beginning on Monday, the tenth day of August, in the year of
+    our Lord one thousand nine hundred and twenty-seven. This is the
+    sentence of the law.
+
+
+                                CURTAIN
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+                                ACT III
+
+
+_Scene: The restaurant as in the first act._
+
+_Pete, the counter-man, is leaning on his elbows, reading a paper. The
+clock points to 11:30._
+
+_It is dark outside. The murmur of a crowd is heard for a moment and dies
+away._
+
+_Milkin, bent, grey, and more wizened, enters from the street and looks
+questioningly about._
+
+  MILKIN. Miss Rosalie here?
+
+  PETE. No.
+
+  MILKIN. Give me coffee. [_He pays for the coffee and sits gloomily
+    without touching it._]
+
+  PETE [_grudgingly_]. She’s seeing the governor.
+
+  MILKIN. She don’t get no sleep.
+
+  PETE. You think they’re going to bump ’em off?
+
+  MILKIN. I couldn’t say dat.
+
+  PETE. Tonight, I mean?
+
+  MILKIN. De signs is wrong. Dey might. De signs is bad.
+
+  [_Bauer enters from the left, a paper folded in his hand. He goes
+    directly across to the window._]
+
+  BAUER. I’ll bet money they get themselves raided over at the Zeitung.
+    They’ve got a sheet up to flash bulletins of the executions. They
+    kept it dark till the last minute.
+
+  PETE. Yeah?
+
+  BAUER. And what the hell is all the row about, anyway? Some rough guys
+    get caught for murder and when they start to put ’em through all the
+    radicals and poets in the country begin marching around the jail.
+    You’d think nobody ever got it before.
+
+  [_A Policeman enters._]
+
+  PETE. Yeah, that’s the truth.
+
+  BAUER. Look here, officer, you see what they’re doing over at the
+    Zeitung? They’re all ready to flash bulletins.
+
+  OFFICER. Yeah, I saw it. We haven’t got any orders about that. We’re
+    just watching the street here.
+
+  [_He lowers his voice._] Where’s the girl, do you know?
+
+  [_Ike appears in the doorway._]
+
+  BAUER. She’s seeing the governor again.
+
+  OFFICER. They’ll have to hurry if they’re going to stop it now. [_He
+    glances at the clock._]
+
+  BAUER. Think it’s going through this time?
+
+  OFFICER. Sure, it’s going through. They put it off once and that’s
+    enough. [_He goes out._]
+
+  PETE. Everybody comes in here looks at that damn clock. It makes me
+    feel queer.
+
+  IKE. Any news?
+
+  [_Bauer goes out left._]
+
+  PETE. No.
+
+  IKE. Then I guess there won’t be any. Not till twelve o’clock.
+
+  PETE. Maybe not.
+
+  [_Sowerby enters as in the first act, with his pile of books and the
+    slippers._]
+
+  IKE. Meanwhile, life goes on as usual. Where are you living now?
+
+  SOWERBY. It’s extraordinary how economic difficulties manage to catch
+    one at the most embarrassing moments. [_He puts down his things._]
+    You’ve noticed that, I suppose?
+
+  IKE. In my walk of life I couldn’t miss it. What’s the trouble?
+
+  SOWERBY. Simple enough. Lack of funds.
+
+  IKE. Milkin’ll stake you to something. Hey, Milkin, ain’t you going to
+    eat?
+
+  MILKIN. Naw. Dere ain’t no use eating.
+
+  IKE. I can’t get him to eat any more.
+
+  SOWERBY. What’s the matter? That? [_He points to the clock._]
+
+  IKE. Yeah, he won’t eat at all.
+
+  PETE. I don’t eat so good myself.
+
+  IKE. Yeah, but he’s got a special worry, see? You know that theory
+    about putting the number on them—by the cabalistic system? Well, he
+    put it on ’em.
+
+  SOWERBY. Yeah?
+
+  IKE. Yeah, he put the number on the judge and said, “Come down from
+    dere!” and the judge didn’t come down.
+
+  SOWERBY. I daresay that hit him pretty hard.
+
+  NEWSBOY. Extra! Extra—
+
+  IKE. Jeez, it busted him up. You been over in the square?
+
+  SOWERBY. No.
+
+  IKE. There’s about a million people there.
+
+  SOWERBY. Any fights?
+
+  IKE. No, sir. Nobody said a word to the police. They’ve got machine
+    guns trained right on them. Down by the jail you can’t even walk
+    past. There was a bright little girl down there making a speech.
+    They took her away. This ain’t a favorable time for speeches.
+    Personally I prefer a ham sandwich. You paying, Milkin?
+
+  MILKIN. Sure ting—if you can eat.
+
+  SOWERBY. Indeed I could eat.
+
+  MILKIN. Wid dat going on out dere?
+
+  SOWERBY. You mean the crowds?
+
+  MILKIN. I mean what dey’re doing to Mac and Capraro and de old man.
+
+  SOWERBY. They won’t do it. I have never for one moment believed they
+    would carry it out.
+
+  MILKIN. Oh, yes, dey will. If somebody don’t get de numbers on ’em and
+    do it quick. And dere ain’t much time.
+
+  SOWERBY. My friend, I am something of a historian, and I have made a
+    specialty of labor developments. Never within my memory has there
+    been a plutocracy which did not play the game with an eye to the
+    future. Now they feel like executing Mac and Capraro. That feeling
+    pervaded the trial and swayed the jury. On the other hand, it would
+    be a gigantic error, from a tactical point of view to kill these men
+    now when the whole world is watching them. They will pursue a safer
+    and more dastardly course of action. They will execute Suvorin and
+    commute the sentences of Mac and Capraro to life imprisonment. They
+    will do this and then they will sit back and laugh at us, having
+    drawn the sting from all our arguments. That was what they did in
+    the Mooney case. Trust any government to choose the safe and
+    dastardly course.
+
+  MILKIN. Not dis time.
+
+  SOWERBY. I think so.
+
+  MILKIN. How about de stars? How about de numbers? Dey don’t come out
+    dat way. Dey come out— [_He turns down an expressive thumb._]
+
+  SOWERBY. If the government wishes the friendship of other nations, if
+    it wishes the respect of its own citizens, it will take, as I said,
+    the safe and dastardly course.
+
+  [_Ward enters._]
+
+  WARD. Have you seen the cheap story that’s out in the _Herald_—about
+    the governor going to hold it up? [_He shows a paper._]
+
+  SOWERBY. And why not?
+
+  WARD. They’re all crazy fighting for papers up in the avenue. I had to
+    battle for this one.
+
+  SOWERBY. Is it definite?
+
+  WARD. Read it. All the news it’s safe to print.
+
+  SOWERBY [_reading_]. “Macready-Capraro Reprieve Likely.”
+
+  IKE. About as definite as the price of clothes in a one-price
+    second-hand store.
+
+  SOWERBY [_reading_]. “The correspondent of this paper learned from an
+    inside official source this evening that the governor had
+    practically made up his mind to issue a stay of execution pending
+    further investigation into the Macready-Capraro case. This will
+    probably mean that the executions set for midnight will be postponed
+    another ten days.” That means the governor will act.
+
+  WARD. Like hell it does! It means he’s stringing us along till he gets
+    ’em good and dead and it’s too late to say anything. He knows nobody
+    cares but the radicals, and he’s playing them for suckers. Why
+    should he worry about the crowd over in the square? There’s several
+    million around here going to bed and going to sleep as usual. Why
+    shouldn’t they? There’s nothing unusual happening. This isn’t a
+    miscarriage of justice! It is justice! The government’s putting away
+    some bad boys the way governments always put away the boys that
+    won’t play the game! You ask any honest citizen what he thinks about
+    it and he’ll say, “Hell, they killed a paymaster, didn’t they?
+    Anyway, they’re anarchists, ain’t they? I should worry!” And he
+    should. They won’t bother him as long as he’s a fat-head! [_Rosalie
+    enters from the left. The men rise._] Oh, Rosalie! I thought you
+    were seeing the governor.
+
+  ROSALIE. I was. I just got back. [_To Pete._] Has anybody telephoned
+    for me here?
+
+  PETE. No, Miss Suvorin.
+
+  ROSALIE. Oh, but there must be a mistake! [_She takes up the phone._]
+    Will you get me Mr. Gluckstein’s office—right away?
+
+  WARD. What did he say, Rosalie?
+
+  ROSALIE. He said he couldn’t decide. He—he was weighing the evidence.
+    He had stacks of letters on both sides, and he was reading them. Oh,
+    God—if it were anything else it would be just—funny. To think such a
+    fool should decide if Mac will live or die. [_In the phone._]
+    Hello—yes, yes—. But he must be. Yes, I see. Yes, yes—but he must
+    hurry. And tell him to call me—please—no, at the Lyceum. [_She hangs
+    up the receiver._] I thought there might be news here. Everywhere I
+    go I think maybe there’s news somewhere else.
+
+  SOWERBY. There’s something in the _Herald_.
+
+  ROSALIE. I’ve quit trying to read about it.
+
+  SOWERBY. It says there’s going to be a reprieve.
+
+  ROSALIE. Oh, but why didn’t he tell me then?— [_She looks at the
+    paper._]
+
+  SOWERBY. It’s been very unlikely from the beginning that they’d carry
+    out the sentence. I don’t know that it’s much better if they commute
+    to life imprisonment,—still—they might be pardoned, if we ever get a
+    decent governor in office.
+
+  ROSALIE [_looking up_]. Yes—they might. They might. I haven’t allowed
+    myself to think it, since they turned down the appeals.
+
+  SOWERBY. That was only the judge, my dear. We know where the judge
+    stands and where the governor’s committee stands, but nobody else
+    has spoken. The governor doesn’t have to act as his committee
+    advises. And even if the governor failed to act there’s a supreme
+    court justice waiting with a writ of certiorari—and everything in
+    his record indicates that he’ll come forward if necessary.
+
+  ROSALIE. But where is he? Here it’s the last—my God—the last few
+    minutes, and Gluckstein hasn’t even answered!
+
+  [_Rosalie, who has been dry-eyed, looks round her at the group, then
+    sinks into a chair and begins to sob._]
+
+  WARD. I don’t know as I’d do that, Rosalie.
+
+  [_Two Policemen enter casually._]
+
+  FIRST OFFICER. What’s going on?
+
+  IKE. Not a thing.
+
+  FIRST OFFICER. What’s she crying about?
+
+  IKE. Her? Oh, she had a sweetheart killed over in France. And every
+    once in a while she gets thinking about it, see?
+
+  FIRST OFFICER. Don’t kid me, big boy.
+
+  IKE. I wouldn’t think of it.
+
+  [_The Policemen go out._]
+
+  MILKIN. Christ, when I look at dem—when I look at dem—de paid
+    hirelings of de unjust—I kin feel strengt’ coming back in me, de
+    strengt’ I lost! If I was worthy to do it I could break dem all—I
+    could break dem and bring dem down. It ain’t knowledge I lack. It
+    ain’t courage! It’s being worthy! Worthy to rise above self! [_He
+    snatches a paper napkin and marks it feverishly with a pencil, then
+    rises, stretching up his arms to full length, the napkin clutched in
+    the right._] On dis paper I have set down de sign of One, de great
+    cabalistic sign, wit’ powers over Earth and Heaven and all de Hells!
+    Dat is de sign which de powers has said will sway de tides and draw
+    aside de stars from deir paths in de infinite! It is de power over
+    all powers, de invisible _signum monstrum, de gloria cœlis, gloria
+    mundi_! And by dis sign I conjures you in dis moment out of de
+    endless of eternity—strike down dat judge—palsy de hands dat would
+    lay demselves on does two men—by all dat is cognate under dis
+    abstraction—strip dem of deir powers for good and evil, make dem as
+    little children—and dis by de sign of One—by de sign of de mystery!
+    [_For a moment he holds his pose, then sits again, staring gloomily
+    before him._] It don’t work. I ain’t worthy. Dat’s de second time.
+
+  [_Andy enters._]
+
+  ANDY. A couple of telegrams for you, Ward.
+
+  WARD. Thanks.
+
+  ANDY. Anything else happened?
+
+  [_Crowd offstage. “They’ve escaped,” etc._]
+
+  WARD. No. Just a few more helpful friends asking us why in God’s name
+    we don’t do something.
+
+  [_Jerusalem Slim flings open the street door and enters hastily in
+    great excitement. A burst of cheering is heard._]
+
+  JERUSALEM SLIM. I knew it would happen! I knew it would happen—if I
+    prayed for it! The women are all crying out there—and Rosalie’s
+    crying—but don’t cry any more—don’t cry any more! Haven’t you heard
+    it? Haven’t you heard it?
+
+  IKE. What?
+
+  JERUSALEM SLIM. They’ve escaped.
+
+  IKE. Who’s escaped?
+
+  JERUSALEM SLIM. The men! Mac and Cappie and Suvorin! They’re gone and
+    nobody knows where they are!
+
+  WARD. Escaped? Out of the death-house!
+
+  JERUSALEM SLIM. Yes! It’s in the papers.
+
+  SOWERBY. You’re crazy, Slim!
+
+  [_A newsboy passes shouting._]
+
+  JERUSALEM SLIM. Everybody says so.
+
+  [_Ward makes a dash for the door and goes out_].
+
+  IKE. What paper’s it in?
+
+  JERUSALEM SLIM. I don’t know.
+
+  [_Ward enters with a paper. He looks at it in astonishment._]
+
+  WARD. “Break from death-house reported!” They must be doing it to sell
+    papers.
+
+  [_Crowd dies away. Rosalie looks at the paper._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Ward—could it be true?
+
+  WARD. I—I don’t think so, Rosalie. It’s never happened. I wish it
+    might. But it couldn’t possibly.
+
+  [_The Salvation Lass enters from the street, looking at Rosalie
+    expectantly. The news is written in her face._]
+
+  SOWERBY. However, it’s extraordinary that the _Gazette_ should print
+    it—if there’s nothing in the story.
+
+  WARD. It says it’s reported—any kind of rumor could get about. There’s
+    no use hoping for anything like that. If it did happen, they’d just
+    take them back again.
+
+  [_An elderly priest enters from the street and goes to the counter.
+    The group fails to notice him._]
+
+  THE PRIEST. Give me same coffee, please.
+
+  [_At the sound of his voice, Rosalie recognizes Suvorin in the priest.
+    She turns toward him._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Then—it is true! Oh, God, it is true!
+
+  WARD. What is it?
+
+  ROSALIE. It’s—my father. Don’t you see? Dad—Dad!
+
+  [_Suvorin makes an almost imperceptible motion for silence. The words
+    freeze on Rosalie’s lips. A Policeman enters and walks to the
+    counter._]
+
+  THE OFFICER. Coffee, old man, and fill it up with milk. I’ve got to
+    drink fast. Evening, father.
+
+  [_Pete serves him. Suvorin and the Policeman sip their coffee elbow to
+    elbow. The Policeman goes out without a word._]
+
+  ROSALIE. But—dad—then it’s true! You got away!
+
+  SUVORIN. Yes.
+
+  ROSALIE. Why are you here?
+
+  SUVORIN. I had to come back for some money. I’ll go out the other way.
+    [_Goes toward door at left._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Then—where are the others?
+
+  SUVORIN. The others?
+
+  ROSALIE. Cappie—and Mac?
+
+  SUVORIN. I couldn’t help them. I’m sorry.
+
+  ROSALIE. Oh—
+
+  SUVORIN. They couldn’t hold me. I knew they couldn’t. But I couldn’t
+    help anybody else. I’m sorry.
+
+  ROSALIE. You mean—you left Mac—there?
+
+  SUVORIN. I couldn’t help him.
+
+  ROSALIE. No. [_Suvorin goes out left._] But—they won’t go ahead
+    now—now that one of them’s escaped! They won’t, will they, Ward?
+
+  WARD. I don’t know.
+
+  ROSALIE. No—no! Say they won’t! What are we doing here! Oh, don’t you
+    see it’s nearly time! Why do we wait for other people to do
+    something! It will be too late soon—and then we’ll think of what we
+    might have done! They’re going to kill Cappie—and—and Mac—don’t you
+    know it? They’re going to kill them—and we’ve had all day to
+    help—we’ve had days and weeks—and years! We’ve let it go on
+    till—till it’s almost too late. Oh, dear God, don’t they know Mac
+    couldn’t be guilty? They know it! They can’t kill him! [_The phone
+    rings. Rosalie looks at it, clenching her hands, staring wildly._]
+
+  WARD. I’ll answer it. [_He goes to the phone._] Hello. Yes. Yes, this
+    is Ward. Yes. I can take a message. [_He waits._] I didn’t hear
+    that. [_He listens, then turns toward Rosalie apprehensively.
+    Rosalie is looking away. The men watch him. He makes a downward sign
+    for silence._] Yes, we know that. Thank you. Yes, sure. [_He hangs
+    up, slowly. It is obvious that the news was bad._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Was it Gluckstein?
+
+  WARD. Yes. It’s not decided yet. They’re still—trying everything.
+
+  ROSALIE. Oh, are they truly, Ward—or are you lying to me? Because, you
+    see—he’s warm and alive now—and if they’d only wait till I could
+    tell them again—No, no, we’ve told them over and over—and they
+    listened to us—and went on killing them. Because they know they’re
+    innocent—and they don’t care.
+
+  [_Ike looks out the window and turns to pick up Sowerby and Ward with
+    a glance. They look out. Ike whispers. The crowd murmurs outside._]
+
+  IKE. Capraro goes first.
+
+  [_They watch in silence, then Ike whispers again._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Don’t!—Don’t!—Don’t whisper any more! What is it? [_She sees
+    the clock. The hands point to one minute of twelve._] There’s still
+    time! There’s still time! Oh, my dear, my dear, one minute more time
+    in all your world—only one minute more of time and I can do nothing!
+    [_The hands click to midnight! Ward returns to Rosalie._] You lied
+    to me, Ward, they’re killing them now. What does it say over there?
+    Tell me what it says. Ike, you can tell me.
+
+  IKE. It says “Capraro Murdered.”
+
+  [_Rosalie drops her hands, frozen. One of the Officers enters, looks
+    around casually, then looks out of the window. Sowerby speaks low to
+    Ike._]
+
+  ROSALIE. Don’t whisper it! Don’t whisper it! Didn’t you hear me say
+    not to whisper any more? That’s what they’ll want you to do—whisper
+    it—keep quiet about it—say it never happened—it couldn’t happen—two
+    innocent men killed—keep it dark—keep it quiet—No! No! Shout it!
+    They’re killing them! [_There is a cry from the crowd. The Policeman
+    looks at Rosalie. The Men at the window stir uneasily. Cry from
+    crowd—woman shrieks. Crowd silent._] What does it say now, Ike?
+    [_Ike makes no answer._] I know what it says! It says “Macready
+    Murdered.” Mac—Mac—my dear—they have murdered you—while we stood
+    here trying to think of what to do they murdered you! Just a moment
+    ago you had a minute left—and it was the only minute in the whole
+    world—and now—now this day will never end for you—there will be no
+    more days! [_The crowd is heard again._] Shout it! Shout it! Cry
+    out! Run and cry! Only—it won’t do any good—now.
+
+
+                                CURTAIN
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+                           OUTSIDE LOOKING IN
+
+
+                       BASED ON “BEGGARS OF LIFE”
+
+                              BY JIM TULLY
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+                                THE CAST
+
+                            BILL
+                            RUBIN
+                            SKELLY
+                            MOSE
+                            LITTLE RED
+                            EDNA
+                            BALDY
+                            HOPPER
+                            SNAKE
+                            OKLAHOMA
+                            FIRST STRANGER
+                            SECOND STRANGER
+                            THIRD STRANGER
+                            UKIE
+                            SIMS
+                            BRAKEMAN
+                            DETECTIVE
+                            SHERIFF
+                            DEPUTIES
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+                           OUTSIDE LOOKING IN
+
+
+
+
+                                 ACT I
+
+
+_Scene: A Hobo camp near a railroad bridge in North Dakota. A glimpse of
+the trestle at right; a few low willows hiding the coulee at the rear.
+At the left a few small trees. The foreground is strewn with the usual
+debris of tramp housekeeping; a circle of blackened stones, a square
+five gallon oil can, smaller cans, a few papers._
+
+_At Rise: Skelly, a thin fellow about eighteen, is lying asleep near the
+ring of stones, Bill and Rubin come in from the right._
+
+_Time: Autumn evening._
+
+  BILL. This is a hell of a jungle.
+
+  RUBIN. What’s the matter with it?
+
+  BILL. Well, just look at it; that’s all; just look at it.
+
+  RUBIN. Damn good jungle. I slep’ here three years ago. See that hill
+    over there? That breaks the wind.
+
+  BILL. Hill? You call that a hill?
+
+  RUBIN. Damn near a mountain, that is.
+
+  BILL. Why there ain’t a hill in North Dakota tall enough to make a
+    grade. There ain’t a mountain high enough to set down on.
+
+  RUBIN. D’you have to have a mountain to set down on? Well, when you
+    hit Dakota you can stand up, see? [_Sits right on fire stone._]
+
+  BILL. What d’you get?
+
+  RUBIN. I got a lump and I just bummed a towel and some soap.
+
+  BILL. Jeez! You must have slung a good line!
+
+  RUBIN. Yah! I gets desperate and tells a new one. I says, Lady, will
+    ya gimme a drink o’ water? I’m so hungry I don’t know where I’m
+    gonna sleep tonight. She was dumb and fell for it. She’s a
+    widowwoman; said her brother’s a bum.
+
+  BILL. D’she ask you to marry her?
+
+  RUBIN. We didn’t get to that—I left about then.
+
+  BILL. Said her brother’s a bum, huh? Bet you I got a lump off the same
+    one. Little skinny woman, gabbier’n a parrot?
+
+  RUBIN. Naw, this jane’s bigger’n a sprinklin’ wagon.
+
+  BILL. That’s two bums out of this town. Hustlin’ little burg it is,
+    too. Full of bright young men tryin’ to get somewhere.
+
+  RUBIN [_to Skelly_]. Where from, ‘Bo?’
+
+  SKELLY [_not moving_]. East.
+
+  RUBIN. What’s the matter?
+
+  SKELLY. I certainly do feel rotten.
+
+  RUBIN. Yeah?
+
+  SKELLY. You know that Fairview jail? That’s where I was.
+
+  RUBIN. Bad grub?
+
+  SKELLY. Bad? Oh my God!
+
+  BILL. I heard of that jail. They got a rock-pile higher’n a church.
+
+  RUBIN. What’d they get you for?
+
+  SKELLY. They wrote it down “trespassin’ on railroad property” but what
+    they really meant was “being able-bodied and not doing any work.”
+    They certainly fixed me so I ain’t so able-bodied any more.
+
+  BILL. Must be hostile down around Fairview?
+
+  RUBIN. Any time you notice yourself comin’ into Fargo you better back
+    track out of there. They’re so hostile they say it with pitchforks.
+    I wouldn’t prospect within ten blocks of the agricultural college if
+    you gave me one of them dormitories full of brass beds. I’d rather
+    go pan-handlin’ in the Bad Lands.
+
+  BILL. Well, it ain’t so bad around here. [_He sits._]
+
+  RUBIN. Do you know why?
+
+  BILL. No, why?
+
+  RUBIN. They don’t dare turn anybody away around here for fear it might
+    be a relative!
+
+  BILL. I suppose _you_ come from round here.
+
+  RUBIN. Naw—I was born in New York.
+
+  BILL. That so? You don’t look it.
+
+  RUBIN. It’s no place to live but it’s a good place to come from. Ever
+    been in Long Island City?
+
+  BILL. Once.
+
+  RUBIN. You count seven houses from the end of the bridge. That’s where
+    I was born.
+
+  BILL. Livery stable?
+
+  RUBIN. Hospital.
+
+  BILL. Oh, hell.... When do we eat?
+
+  RUBIN. Come on down to the coulee and scrub up. I’ll split the towel
+    with you.
+
+  BILL. Don’t waste that river washin’ in it. There ain’t enough water
+    now to make coffee.
+
+  RUBIN. Come on; we’ll wash up, and I’ll get some wood for a fire.
+
+  BILL [_rising_]. You wash up, and I’ll get the wood. I got my winter
+    underwear on, and I don’t change ’till Spring.
+
+  [_Rubin disappears left, Bill after him. Skelly has fallen asleep
+    again. Mose, a gentle-looking negro, middle-aged, enters back, looks
+    round and finally sits down near Skelly. After a moment Skelly
+    starts in his sleep and opens his eyes._]
+
+  MOSE. I been watchin’ you sleep, white boy, and you suah sleep soun’.
+
+  SKELLY. How long you been here?
+
+  MOSE. ’Bout a minute.
+
+  SKELLY. Where’s the others?
+
+  MOSE. Ain’t no others, white boy.
+
+  SKELLY. God, I’m all in. You could ‘a’ rolled me for my change,
+    couldn’t you?
+
+  MOSE. Not me, brodah. I don’t roll no one. Dough’s hard enough to git
+    when you’s all in, down and out. Ah knows.
+
+  SKELLY. Which way, ’Bo?
+
+  MOSE. Ah’s going no’th, jus’ as fah no’th as ah can git. Ah’ve on’y
+    been outa jail seb’n months down south. Ah do fifteen year, ever
+    since I was twenty-three year old. Ah pick ‘nough cotton and build
+    ’nough road and haul ’nough cane to plug up the Red Ribber of the
+    South.
+
+  SKELLY. What’d they stick you in jail for?
+
+  MOSE. Ah didn’t do nuffin. Another nigger cuts me wit’ a razor an’ Ah
+    cuts him back and they soaks me five yeah. Th’ other nigger don’
+    even die.
+
+  SKELLY. If he’d died it’d been worse.
+
+  MOSE. Couldn’t have been worse. Ah might just as well died mahsel’.
+    Might just as well died. Ah serbes my time and about the last six
+    months they hires me out to some big rich guy down theah. He kep’ me
+    owning him so much I work ten years for nuffen. Every time Ah git a
+    paih overalls he charges me some moah and when Ah ask him when Ah
+    git free he say he lynch me Ah talk ‘bout that. Ah floats down the
+    ribber on a log and Ah walks off to Kaintucky, and Ah been goin’
+    no’th ever since.
+
+  SKELLY. Well, you’re safe now, nigger.
+
+  MOSE. Ah knows better, white boy. Ah ain’t safe till Ah gits to
+    Canada. Ah knows my ol’ boss. He kills a nigger laike he would a
+    skunk. Ah knows. Ah seen him do it. Nigger done bother him one time,
+    and he shoot him, and he say, “Take dat nigger away dere,” and Ah
+    does.
+
+  SKELLY. What’d you do with him?
+
+  MOSE. Ah buried him. He was good ’nough nigger, too.
+
+  SKELLY. You sure had a devil of a time.
+
+  MOSE. Ah suah has.
+
+  SKELLY. Say, listen; there’s a bad guy in town. You look out for him.
+
+  MOSE. Who is he?
+
+  SKELLY. It’s the Snake—that’s who it is. Arkansas Snake.
+
+  MOSE. You say he’s a bad guy, white boy?
+
+  SKELLY. By God, he’s the original bad guy.
+
+  MOSE. Ah ain’t scared of no trash like dat, not me. Ah’m scared of my
+    old boss, but Ah ain’t scared of no bad guys becaise Ah’s a good
+    fast runner. White man chase me once an Ah run so fast he burn his
+    feet in mah tracks.
+
+  SKELLY. Yeah, well you better keep your mouth shut, see, if he mosies
+    in. I saw him on the street, and it was the Snake all right, and
+    he’s a bad guy.
+
+  MOSE. Ah ain’t scared of no bad guys.
+
+  SKELLY. God, there’s something the matter with me. I got a thirst.
+
+  MOSE. Wha’ kin’ of a thirst, white boy?
+
+  SKELLY. Just a water thirst.
+
+  MOSE. That’s easy.
+
+  SKELLY. I been wanting a drink all afternoon and I’m too tired to go
+    get one.
+
+  MOSE. Suah; you lie still. Ah’ll fetch you a drink o’ water.
+
+  SKELLY [_starting up_]. No, I want more water’n a drink. I’m going to
+    ship a cargo of water. Nigger, when I get through with that river,
+    they’re going to have to change the map.
+
+  MOSE. You better not drink too much out o’ dat pore little river,
+    white boy, or you’re goin’ to drink it dry.
+
+  [_Mose and Skelly go out left. Little Red comes in from the right,
+    looks round a moment casually, then lifts a hand and Edna enters
+    after him, dressed as a man. She is well disguised and would not be
+    readily detected unless by her voice._]
+
+  RED. We’re all right, kid. I’ll start making a fire and you just lie
+    around and don’t say anything. If anybody comes along start smoking
+    cigarettes so you won’t have to talk. Let me do the talking. [_Red
+    collects kindling and Edna stretches out to watch him light the
+    fire._] There’s only one freight out of here tonight and that’s a
+    string of empties going west. Doesn’t stop this side of Wolf Point.
+
+  EDNA. Sure of that?
+
+  RED. I know this country like a book. Every time I get stranded in
+    Williston I catch the eight o’clock on the grade.
+
+  EDNA. Listen, Red, my cigarettes aren’t the right kind.
+
+  RED. What’ve you got?
+
+  EDNA. Fatimas.
+
+  RED. My God, you can’t do anything like that here. Take my Bull and
+    papers and give me the tailors. Can you roll ’em?
+
+  EDNA. Kind of.
+
+  [_They exchange cigarettes._]
+
+  RED. Hope to God there’s nobody in town. If we get inside one of them
+    empties we’re set for life.
+
+  EDNA. You know, Red, I’m scared, scared as hell. I’m trembling so I
+    can’t—look at that hand. Ain’t it funny? [_She holds up a hand with
+    a cigarette paper in it._]
+
+  RED. Don’t get that way now, Kid, or you’ll queer yourself.
+
+  EDNA. All right.
+
+  [_Silence._]
+
+  RED. You did it right?
+
+  EDNA. Yep.
+
+  RED. He’s dead?
+
+  EDNA. I’ll say he’s dead.
+
+  RED. Well, by God, I’m glad of it.
+
+  EDNA. I don’t know. [_She shivers; Looks off left._] What’s that?
+
+  RED. [_looking out left_]. Somebody in the brush. ’Boes, I guess.
+
+  EDNA. Yeah?
+
+  RED. Don’t move. Not yet. Wait till I tell you.... You better roll
+    that cig.
+
+  EDNA. All right.
+
+  RED. You just wave a hand—so—see? Let me talk. I’ll talk the arms off
+    ’em.
+
+  [_Red pulls a package of food from his pocket, and begins sharpening a
+    stick to roast weenies. Bill and Rubin come in from the left,
+    carrying wood for the fire._]
+
+  RUBIN. Hullo.
+
+  RED. How’s yourself?
+
+  BILL. Hot dog.
+
+  RED. You said it.
+
+  RUBIN. Looks like Coney Island to me.
+
+  RED. What you got?
+
+  BILL. Coffee and— [_He brings a can of water to the fire and pours
+    coffee into it._]
+
+  RED. Everybody flush? How about mulligan?
+
+  RUBIN. Ain’t enough time. Train pulls out at eight.
+
+  [_Skelly and Mose come in from left._]
+
+  RED. You guys figure on dressing for dinner?
+
+  SKELLY. Now ain’t that hell? I might ‘a’ known it was formal. Say, you
+    can tell winter’s comin’ on, the way that water feels. [_Wiping
+    hands and face from drinking._]
+
+  RUBIN. She’s going to be a tough night, mate. I’m going to beat it
+    south as soon as I can make connections.
+
+  BILL. I met Frisco in Cincy the other day and he tells me they’re
+    hostile down south. Pinchin’ every tramp that blows in.
+
+  RUBIN. It ain’t bad in N’Orleans. A guy can always get by there.
+
+  SKELLY. Well, this God-forsaken jungle is only good for Eskimos. [_He
+    takes a package from his pocket._]
+
+  RED. You must have a chill, brother. What do you mean, cold in
+    September? It goes down to fifty below here.
+
+  RUBIN. About that time Florida’s a good place. Me and the rest of the
+    government officials, we always spends them fifty-below nights in
+    Florida. Hell, we don’t hardly come north to run for office any
+    more.
+
+  SKELLY. The only winter home I got is the hoosegow, and it’ll be a
+    cold day before I tries that again. I’d rather be outside lookin’
+    in. You ever do time?
+
+  BILL [_making coffee_]. Time? Time is what I ain’t never done nothin’
+    but. I can do any amount of time. Once there was a judge gimme a
+    life sentence. And I says to him, “Judge,” I says, “give me a
+    chance. Make it a hundred years.”
+
+  SKELLY [_laying out lunches_]. Yeah, and then what?
+
+  BILL. Hey, you, that’s the end of the story.
+
+  [_Mose, who has been lingering on the outskirts, takes a package from
+    his pocket and tosses it to Skelly._]
+
+  MOSE. Put that in with the rest, boy.
+
+  RED. Hey, go on, keep it. Keep it and eat it, old man. I guess maybe
+    we can find a dog for you here.
+
+  [_Skelly tosses the package back to Mose._]
+
+  MOSE. Mighty kind of you, boss. I suah am hungry for one of them.
+
+  SKELLY. You better save a couple for the Snake, just in case he didn’t
+    have any luck.
+
+  RED. Who?
+
+  SKELLY. Arkansas Snake.
+
+  RUBIN [_pausing in the act of taking a bite_]. Snake in town?
+
+  SKELLY. I saw him this afternoon.
+
+  BILL. Is he turning a trick here?
+
+  SKELLY. I guess he’s just bummin’.
+
+  RUBIN. He’s all right if he’s sober.
+
+  SKELLY. Well, I never saw him sober then. First time I ever met him
+    was in Pittsy. We got drunk together and that dynamite we was
+    drinkin’ could make a humming bird fly slow. Next morning I was
+    pretty wobbly, and when we went down to the yards to hit the stem he
+    decided he didn’t want me round, so he lays me out and rifles my
+    change drawers. Left me lying right between the tracks and all the
+    time she was raining cats with blue feathers and green tails and
+    when I come to I was wetter’n the Monongahela River. Well, sir, I
+    lays still and the trains rolls all around me. If I’d a stretched
+    out my hands they’d a been on the rails—then I’d a been a bum
+    without grub-hooks. Naw! He didn’t make a very good impression on
+    me!
+
+  RUBIN. Certainly is a dirty guy.
+
+  SKELLY. I’ll tell the cock-eyed world he’s dirty.
+
+  BILL. What y’ going to say to him if he shows up here?
+
+  SKELLY. You talk to him, will you? I’m gonta be in conference.
+
+  MOSE. Boys, they’s a whole army comin’ down the creek.
+
+  [_A pause. Baldy, who has a livid scar across his face and Hopper, who
+    walks with a crutch, come in from the right, followed at a little
+    distance by the Snake, an evil-looking yegg, better dressed than the
+    others. He sits down at the right without speaking._]
+
+  BALDY. By Judas Priest, everybody in the world is here. What is this,
+    the Democratic National Convention?
+
+  BILL. Naw—this is the United Clam-bakers’ Union of Alberquerque, New
+    Mexico.
+
+  RUBIN. This is the Amalgamated Chamber of Commerce of Beautiful
+    Ossining on the Hudson.
+
+  BALDY. Say, cookie, is there any hot dogs for me, or is there gonta be
+    a hot-dog scandal in this administration?
+
+  RED. There’s gonta be a hot-dog scandal if I don’t get any, because I
+    bought ’em.
+
+  BALDY. Bought ’em like hell.
+
+  RED. Yes, sir, bought ’em with money. And what’s more I wasn’t
+    expecting any young mass meeting of the international intelligentsia
+    of the world when I laid in supplies. Didn’t you guys have any luck
+    at all?
+
+  BALDY. Hell, no. Every back door I batters the woman says she’s fed
+    seven already. The last one says, “My God, it’s another bum! I’ll
+    put you on the bum!” and she sets two dogs on me.
+
+  RED. All right, you, come and get it.
+
+  [_The newcomers, all save the Snake, share in the food._]
+
+  BALDY. Wait a minute, Hopper, give the Snake a chance. [_He pours
+    coffee for the Snake._]
+
+  BILL. By God, it’s the Snake; how are you, Arkansas?
+
+  [_The Snake looks at Bill, looks away, spits deliberately. A gloom
+    falls over the session._]
+
+  RUBIN [_to Bill_]. You must know him well. Next time you better set
+    that to a tune and sing it. Maybe he’ll hear it.
+
+  BILL. I don’t give a damn.
+
+  [_Baldy carries a cup and a sandwich to the Snake, who accepts them
+    without thanks._]
+
+  RUBIN [_to Baldy, as he returns_]. Which way, ’Bo?
+
+  BALDY. Judith Basin. Goin’ to try the apples this year.
+
+  RUBIN [_to Hopper_]. Apples for you, huh?
+
+  HOPPER. I don’t know where th’ hell I’m going. Great Falls, Havre, any
+    place.
+
+  RED. So? Try Belfast.
+
+  HOPPER. Yeah, I tried Belfast.
+
+  RUBIN. Everybody going out on the eight o’clock?
+
+  BALDY. Sure.
+
+  BILL. She’ll have to carry extra sleepers if this bunch climbs on.
+
+  RUBIN. Cold Jesus! Here’s another one.
+
+  [_A pause. Oklahoma enters from the right._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Evening, travellers; how’s the eating?
+
+  BILL. Good, what there is of it—
+
+  RUBIN. And plenty of it, _such_ as it is.
+
+  RED. Not much left, pardner.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Fine—I don’t need any. I don’t need anything but a lift out
+    of this little half-acre of hell. Anything running out of this place
+    tonight, or do you die here waiting for a train?
+
+  RUBIN. There’s about a hundred west-bound empties going by in about
+    fifteen minutes.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Well, then, that’s one soul saved, because if I’d had to
+    stay here all night, I was going to hunt up a half-a-bucket of water
+    along the coulee somewheres to drown myself in. This ain’t a town.
+    It’s a man-trap.
+
+  RED. You better have a bite, friend. It’s a long way to Wolf Point.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_taking a proffered sandwich_]. Thanks. Yes, sir, I’ve rode
+    on every railroad from the Florida Belt Line to Salt Ste. Marie, and
+    I’ll be god-damned if I ever saw a country where the towns was so
+    far between and few in a hill. And as for turning a trick, my God,
+    they couldn’t scrape up enough change between Minneapolis and Idaho
+    to start a chain grocery store. No wonder there ain’t any yeggs in
+    North Dakota. You’d have to walk a thousand miles to find a safe big
+    enough so you’d have the heart to blow it. What y’all doing here
+    anyway?
+
+  RUBIN. Hell, we came out for the harvest and there ain’t any harvest.
+
+  BALDY. Apples is good in the Judith Basin.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Oh they are, are they? Well, roses is good in May, too, but
+    work ain’t my middle name. Let the married men do the work. That’s
+    my motto. I’m through.
+
+  MOSE. Me too.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_gently_]. Hullo, who said anything to you, nigger? Did you
+    hear me speaking to you?
+
+  MOSE. Tha’s all right, boss. You go ahead and talk. Ah’m with you!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Yeah, well did anybody ask you to come along?
+
+  MOSE. Nemind me, boss. Ah’m a good nigger.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_suddenly menacing_]. Then keep your face shut, will you?
+    [_Mose starts to speak. Oklahoma raises a hand. Mose cringes
+    good-naturedly and is silent._] Now after this you listen, see?
+
+  MOSE. Ah heahs you.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_conversationally_]. God, this certainly is a collection of
+    funny faces. I ain’t seen nothing like this since I left the home
+    for decayed newspaper men back in City Hall Park. If this is what
+    they call the floating population, it’s a God’s wonder the country
+    ain’t drowned. All desperate men, too, ain’t you? All looking for
+    work. Yes, sir; well, judging by what’s left of your shoes I guess
+    maybe you are. A man’s got to have some ambition, and if he can’t
+    think of anything he’d like better’n work, why he might as well
+    work. Harvestin’, apple-picking, milking cows, that’s the stuff!
+    Keep the country going! Put your backs into it! Now, boys, all
+    together, swing them picks, lift them shovels, tote them hods! Yes,
+    sir, here’s a little earnest band of working Gideons hitting the
+    long road from heaven to hell and asking nothing better’n three
+    meals a day and a job at something they won’t get nothing out of;
+    here’s the goddam scions of the first families of West Hoboken and
+    South San Francisco, descended from seven generations of bastards on
+    the mother’s side and tracing their male ancestry in a straight line
+    to more drunken sailors and ministers’ sons than you could count on
+    an adding machine. Here’s a little goose-stepping gang of scared
+    pirates that’s been kicked all over the United States without ever
+    kicking back. Here’s a little Kiwanis Club of patriotic outcasts,
+    voting a resolution to uphold the social order. Sic ’em, Tige, they
+    like it. Oh, sweet Christ! Come to Jesus and join the working class.
+    Workers of the World, unite! You have nothing to lose but your
+    annual trip to Florida.
+
+  BALDY. You a wobbly, friend?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Me a wobbly? Is that all you got out of it? Ask me something
+    easy. Ask me if I’m a Y. M. C. A. extension lecturer or a Pavlowa
+    finale hopper or the deputy inspector of the American Society for
+    the care and prevention o’ children.
+
+  BILL [_low_]. Who’s the guy, anyway?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. And I don’t want anybody askin’ who’s th’ guy behind my
+    back, you get that? When I want you to know who I am I’ll tell you.
+
+  SNAKE. Listen, ‘Bo, what th’ hell do you think you are? You better go
+    get you a Sunday School class.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Listen to me, ’Bo. You speak to me like that once more and
+    I’m going to deposit a swift kick right where you part your pants.
+    The last guy that talked up to me was carried into the corner drug
+    store for first aid and his face won’t ever be the same.
+
+  [_Snake rises._]
+
+  BALDY [_to Oklahoma_]. You better draw it mild, friend. You’re talking
+    to the Arkansas Snake.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. So, it’s the Arkansas Snake, is it? Sorry I left my card
+    case home, I’m sure. This is an unexpected pleasure. As for me, I’m
+    Oklahoma Red, and when I speak somebody jumps.
+
+  [_Snake hesitates; there is a pause._]
+
+  BALDY. Aw, that’s different, that’s different. Say, you two wild men
+    ought to know each other. Boys, this is some little flush excursion
+    from now on. I guess nobody can say this gang ain’t good company
+    with a couple of steppers like the Arkansas Snake and Oklahoma Red.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Stow it, stow it.
+
+  BALDY. Come on, now. [_He raises his cup._] Drink to friendship!
+    Here’s friendship, one and all. [_Several cups and cans are raised,
+    but the Snake and Oklahoma do not move._] Come on, set down and be
+    sociable. You two yeggers don’t have to fight just because you’re
+    both he-cats. The train’ll be along in five minutes anyway. There
+    ain’t enough time for a good fight. Come on.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_to Baldy_]. Turn off your gab. You talk like a Singer
+    Sewing Machine agent. [_Baldy sits._] I ain’t specially needing to
+    kill anybody. If the Snake here wants to set down, I will.
+
+  BALDY. Take it easy, Snake. Remember we’re going somewhere.
+
+  SNAKE [_seating himself_]. That suits me.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. And what th’ ’ell was all the row about anyway? [_He sits._]
+
+  BILL [_rising_]. Well, gents, all, I guess I’ll hit the grit.
+
+  RUBIN [_rising_]. Guess I’ll beat it with you.
+
+  HOPPER. You making the train?
+
+  BILL. Sure.
+
+  HOPPER. Well, here’s the place to get it.
+
+  BILL. We’ll get it, don’t you worry.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Don’t vamoose on my account, children. I ain’t poured any
+    juice since last Christmas. I slipped the dicks clean in Atlanta and
+    they don’t know my mug north of Iowa Falls.
+
+  RUBIN. Oh, that ain’t it. We’re—
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Sure it is. I know. That’s straight, though. You can say
+    your prayers and go to sleep easy. I ain’t no bait for bulls around
+    here.
+
+  BALDY. No, nor us either.
+
+  BILL. All right. [_He and Rubin sit._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Anybody got a watch?
+
+  RUBIN. She’ll whistle in plenty of time.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Somebody give us a little tune, then. This jungle’s as dead
+    as Sunday afternoon in a reformatory. Hey, you, Angel-face, can you
+    sing?
+
+  [_Edna shakes her head._]
+
+  BALDY. Who you travellin’ with, kid? [_Edna waves hand._] Huh?
+
+  EDNA. Little Red here.
+
+  RED. He’s all right. Let him alone.
+
+  BALDY. Sure he’s all right.
+
+  RED. We’re heading for Frisco for the winter. Met up in Duluth.
+
+  BALDY. You two ain’t been on the road long, kid. It takes a lot of
+    guts for green kids to beat through this country.
+
+  RED. Shucks. You got to start sometime.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. How old are you, kid?
+
+  RED. Me? Twenty.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Naw, Angel-face.
+
+  EDNA. Fifteen.
+
+  SKELLY. That’s all right, young fellow, you’ll get whiskers yet.
+
+  RUBIN. Some guys don’t shave till they’re damn near of age.
+
+  [_Snake rises and comes round the fire to a point where he can see
+    Edna._]
+
+  BILL. Hell, I was all blossomed out at fourteen.
+
+  BALDY. Yeah, I’ll bet you was a beauty. And how old is the little one
+    now?
+
+  BILL. Any time you want to know, you try looking at my teeth.
+
+  SNAKE [_to Edna_]. Hullo, baby!
+
+  RED. What’s eatin’ you?
+
+  SNAKE. Hullo, baby! Has it lost its daddy? How’s the little
+    hoochi-hoochie, huh?
+
+  RED. Say, what’s eatin’ you, huh?
+
+  SNAKE. Go on! I guess I know a girl when I see one, whether she’s got
+    clothes on or not. Hullo, puss-in-boots!
+
+  RED. Girl hell!
+
+  SNAKE. Go on! Nice little travelling companion you got, Red. This is
+    sure one grand camp. All the conveniences—including lady friends.
+    Come on, kid, warm up.
+
+  [_At a sign from Red, Edna leaps to her feet. Red and Edna attempt to
+    escape, but both are quickly pinioned from behind._]
+
+  BALDY [_holding Red_]. Keep your shirt on, boy.
+
+  SNAKE. Well, what do you say, what do you say?
+
+  EDNA. Well, what of it?
+
+  SNAKE. You certainly are one little lotus-flower, kiddie. I’ll bet you
+    can love like hell.
+
+  [_All the men have half-risen, watching Edna._]
+
+  EDNA. Maybe I can.
+
+  SNAKE. We’ll show ’em, hey, kiddie? We’ll show ’em!
+
+  EDNA. No, we won’t show ’em.
+
+  SNAKE. Oh, won’t we though?
+
+  EDNA. No we won’t. When I get through talking to you, dearie, you’re
+    going to depart like there was a can tied to you. You can let go of
+    me. I won’t run out on you. [_Her arms are freed._] I’ll tell you
+    why I’m going out on the freight. I’m travelling in pants because
+    Red here went down to the station to buy a couple of tickets for No.
+    4 and ran across three deputies in the woman’s waiting-room. And
+    they was waiting for me.
+
+  BALDY. Hell, we better beat it, Snake.
+
+  EDNA. Yeah, I thought so. And anybody else that wants to go had better
+    get out now.
+
+  [_Baldy and Snake start to go out right, followed by Hopper_].
+
+  OKLAHOMA. What’d you do, kid?
+
+  EDNA. All right, I’ll tell you what I did—and then see how many of you
+    stick around. [_Baldy, Snake and Hopper pause to listen._] Back of
+    Williston, over there, there’s a farmhouse with a cottonwood
+    windbreak in the front yard. Maybe you saw it. It’s near the
+    railroad bridge. That’s where I was born. And if you want to take a
+    run back there and look you’ll find a dead man sitting in the dining
+    room in the dark because there’s nobody to light a lamp for him.
+    Sure, I’ll tell you how it was. You see, my mother died, that’s the
+    beginning of it, and then I didn’t know any better, so I went wrong.
+    I went wrong with my own step-father. You don’t need to believe it
+    if you don’t want to, but that’s straight.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Hell.
+
+  EDNA. Yes, it was hell, but I didn’t know it at the time. Then I found
+    out a few things and ran away from home and the first thing I knew I
+    was in a sporting house in East Grand Forks. I hadn’t been there
+    long when I had to go to a hospital, and when I told the matron who
+    got me into trouble she says, “My God, why didn’t you shoot him?”
+    And I said, I guess I will. So I met up with Red and we got here
+    this morning and I went out to the cemetery all alone and knelt down
+    beside my mother’s grave and told her what I was going to do. I
+    said, “Mother; I hope you can see me. I’m going to kill your man.”
+    Well, he’s dead, and we’re getting out of here together, and we’re
+    going so far it’ll take a dollar to send us a postcard. And then
+    we’re going straight, both of us. Now, is anybody anxious to follow
+    my trail?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Don’t you worry, girlie. You’re all right. If anybody starts
+    putting bracelets on you, there’s going to be trouble ahead of ’em
+    enough to wreck the express. I’m for you.
+
+  SNAKE [_returning_]. Not so fast, old bleeding-heart. You ain’t the
+    only passenger on the Great Northern. Now I’ve got reasons for going
+    out on the train tonight, and it just happens I don’t want to be
+    travelling with candidates for the death-house. Damn sorry to
+    inconvenience you, I’m sure, but Red and his Angel-face’ll have to
+    wait over for the next train.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You wait over and see how you like it. The girl’s coming
+    along.
+
+  SNAKE. I say Angel-face takes the next train.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Oh, that’s orders, is it? [_He leaps up suddenly. Snake puts
+    a hand in his coat pocket._] Take your hand off that gat, Snake.
+    Boys, you see that? [_Bill and Rubin edge up behind the Snake who
+    withdraws his hand._] Now we know where you got it, see? And listen;
+    you ain’t safe with a gat. I don’t feel comfortable travelling with
+    you while you nurse that little blue-iron. If you want to ride with
+    us, you trun it away, see?
+
+  SNAKE. Like hell I will.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. I’ll give you one-half a split second to cough it up.
+
+  SNAKE. Come on, take it away, why don’t you?
+
+  [_Bill and Rubin leap at Snake at the same instant, twisting his arms
+    behind him. Oklahoma lifts the Snake’s gun and searches him for
+    other weapons but finds none._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Remember, this is redeemable at the end of the line. If you
+    ever need it, ask for it at the lost article window when you get to
+    Spokane. Maybe they’ll tell your fortune for you.
+
+  SNAKE [_to Bill_]. I’ll put somebody on the blink for this.
+
+  BILL. Aw, don’t be so personal.
+
+  [_A stranger strolls in casually from the left. In the growing
+    darkness he looks much like a hobo._]
+
+  STRANGER. Well, boys, how’s everything.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Fine, just fine. How’s yourself?
+
+  STRANGER. Never better, thanks.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Glad to hear it.
+
+  STRANGER. You fellows staging Union services tonight?
+
+  BALDY. That’s good, Union services. Looks that way, don’t it?
+
+  STRANGER. Well, that’s all right. I don’t mind. Going to sleep here?
+
+  BALDY. Oh, no. We wouldn’t want to intrude, you know. We’re getting
+    out.
+
+  STRANGER. Don’t like our town, huh?
+
+  BALDY. Sure we like it. Sure.
+
+  STRANGER. Well, it’s all right. Stick around. I don’t mind. You guys
+    have got to sleep somewhere.
+
+  BALDY. That’s right, too. Yes, sir. We got to sleep somewhere.
+
+  STRANGER. Sure. Bunk down. Well, so long.
+
+  BALDY. So long.
+
+  [_The stranger goes out left._]
+
+  HOPPER. Geez, he’s friendly.
+
+  BALDY. Ah, you think so. He’s looking for somebody. Like hell I’ll
+    stick around here. He’s too affectionate.
+
+  BILL. Come on, ’Boes, throw your feet.
+
+  [_There is a general wove to the right. A second Stranger enters from
+    left, followed by a third._]
+
+  BALDY [_low to Snake_]. We better make a break for it.
+
+  SNAKE. Naw, see what he wants first.
+
+  SECOND STRANGER. Well, boys, how’s tricks?
+
+  [_A pause._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Howdy, howdy.
+
+  SECOND STRANGER. Going anywhere?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. All depends, all depends.
+
+  SECOND STRANGER. Pretty cold sleeping outdoors, ain’t it?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You mentioned it that time.
+
+  BALDY. Keeps down the mosquitoes, though.
+
+  SECOND STRANGER. Who all’s in your gang, anyway?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. This ain’t no gang. We just happened along.
+
+  SECOND STRANGER. I see. Just happened along, huh?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You got it.
+
+  SECOND STRANGER. Well, that’s the way with me, see. I just happened
+    along.
+
+  BALDY. You bumming to somewhere?
+
+  SECOND STRANGER. Well, all depends, see, all depends. I’ll try
+    anything once.
+
+  [_A pause._]
+
+  HOPPER. That’s what my old side-kick used to say. I’ll try anything
+    once, he said, except the Soo. I don’t know why the Soo runs trains,
+    he said, only mebbe they want to keep up the franchise. Got killed
+    by a Soo train, too. Got run over at Bowbells crossing. He called me
+    over to him where they had him layed on a stretcher. He said, this
+    is going to be a lesson to me, me talking about the Soo. I won’t do
+    that no more.
+
+  SECOND STRANGER. I’ll tell you, boys, we’re kinda looking round for a
+    little red-headed guy that’s got a girl with him. Seen anybody like
+    that round here this evening?
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_running his fingers through his hair_]. You don’t mean me,
+    do you?
+
+  SECOND STRANGER. No, you don’t fit it. He’s a little guy; a little,
+    fighting mick.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. No, guess we ain’t seen him.
+
+  SECOND STRANGER. Hasn’t been a girl along the track anywhere, has
+    there?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. A skirt—not much. No sir, we ain’t seen no skirt here.
+
+  FIRST STRANGER [_who has backed out to one side_]. There she is,
+    chief. We’ve got her. Up with your hands! You’re pinched! [_He
+    covers Edna with a revolver._] Up with your hands!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Bunk down, eh? [_Knocks out the chief._]
+
+  FIRST STRANGER [_rushing toward Oklahoma_]. Up with your hands!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. We’ll bunk you down, you double-crossers! [_Knocks him out
+    while Bill takes care of third Stranger._] So you like the
+    nickel-plate, do you? Well you can wear it yourself!
+
+  [_Quickly handcuffs them together. Gang laughs. Train whistles in
+    distance._]
+
+  BILL. There’s the rattler! Beat it!
+
+  [_They rush out to right, Oklahoma last with sandwich. First Stranger
+    has come to, and is flashing light on Chief._]
+
+  CHIEF. Who the hell are you? [_As Chief rises_—
+
+
+                                CURTAIN
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+                                 ACT II
+
+
+_Scene: The interior of a moving box-car. A low monotonous clanking of
+iron on iron is heard as the long train pulls heavily up a grade west of
+Williston. In the distance an ungreased wheel screams, faintly heard.
+The sliding door is half open and reveals a slowly moving blackness
+outside. A small keg in corner at extreme left, an empty box near it._
+
+_At Rise: Blind Sims, an old man with white hair and beard, sits
+motionless on a heap of burlap bags in a corner at the right. A
+brakeman’s lantern burns beside him. Ukie, a cocky and dapper, though
+considerably bedraggled youth, stands at the door looking out. Is
+playing and singing “The Big Potato Mountains.”_
+
+  SIMS. Where are we, Ukie?
+
+  UKIE. I don’t know. Pulling out of some little burg.
+
+  SIMS. We’re going slow.
+
+  UKIE. Crawling up a grade.
+
+  [_A pause._]
+
+  SIMS. You better shut that door.
+
+  UKIE. Naw, there’s nobody round. Black as the lid of hell.
+
+  SIMS. Coming up a storm.
+
+  UKIE. Yeah.... Makes me feel good, you know?
+
+  SIMS. You’re lucky.
+
+  UKIE. You know, every time there’s a storm coming on I’m so damn happy
+    I want to sing like a damn little dickey bird. Something about the
+    air, when it’s just going to rain. It sure gets me going.
+
+  SIMS. You’re lucky. Makes me want to crawl in a hole and die.
+
+  [_Pause._]
+
+  UKIE. Why don’t you?
+
+  SIMS. Where’d you be, huh, without me to hold your damn tin cup? You
+    could play your damn cigarbox till the old grey goose died under the
+    woodshed and you wouldn’t get ten cents out of all the fancy women
+    in Minneapolis and St. Paul.
+
+  UKIE. I don’t need to play on no corners, see? I don’t know what the
+    hell I ever started doing it for.
+
+  SIMS. You was broke, that’s why. And you haven’t been broke since.
+    What d’you figure on doing?
+
+  UKIE. I’m going back on the stage.
+
+  SIMS. You? _Back_ on the stage. Get the hook.
+
+  UKIE. Yeah! Back on the stage.
+
+  SIMS. I’ll bet you was pretty good. I’ll bet strong men wept and women
+    fainted when you showed up in the spot.
+
+  UKIE. You know, I wasn’t so bad.
+
+  SIMS. No?
+
+  UKIE. I was pretty good.
+
+  SIMS. Stick around, kid. We’re getting along fine, and I won’t live
+    forever.
+
+  UKIE. How old are you, uncle—on the level?
+
+  SIMS. I don’t know. Hellish old. And blind, kid, that’s something.
+
+  UKIE. I don’t know whether you’re blind or not, but you certainly
+    can’t count money.
+
+  SIMS. I tell you I split it even, Ukie.
+
+  UKIE. You split like curly maple, you do.
+
+  SIMS. You want to search me?
+
+  [_Ukie looks at him and holds his nose._]
+
+  UKIE. No, thanks. [_A pause. Then Hopper’s crutch lifts above the
+    doorsill and comes hurtling in past Ukie. It is almost instantly
+    followed by Hopper himself, who rolls over twice and then gets
+    nimbly out of the way of Edna and Little Red, who enter similarly. A
+    trap door opens in the roof and Bill drops through, followed by
+    Rubin._] Any more? Yeah?
+
+  HOPPER. Where’d you get the lantern?
+
+  UKIE. Hey, you, don’t you know this is a private car?
+
+  SIMS. What’s the matter? Hey, Ukie, you there?
+
+  UKIE. Yeah, I’m here.
+
+  SIMS. Who is it?
+
+  UKIE. It’s raining hoboes, that’s what it is.
+
+  RED [_dusting himself off_]. Say, don’t you ever sweep this joint?
+
+  UKIE. If you don’t like the service you can always get off. Anyway,
+    look at all the dirt you brung in with you.
+
+  BILL. Me? Don’t talk that way about me, Paderewski, or I’ll mop up the
+    whole damn palace with you. You’d make a damn good feather duster,
+    you would.
+
+  [_Skelly flicks in through the door, followed by Mose. Skelly staggers
+    a bit, puts his hand to his brow and lies down near centre._]
+
+  RED. What’s wrong, friend?
+
+  SKELLY. Ah, just sick.
+
+  [_The Snake rolls in by the door just as Oklahoma drops from the trap.
+    Mose sits near Skelly._]
+
+  SIMS. My God, ain’t it over yet?
+
+  UKIE. They’re coming down thick as angleworms.
+
+  SIMS. Ukie!
+
+  UKIE. Yeah?
+
+  SIMS. Come here.
+
+  [_Ukie crosses to Sims._]
+
+  UKIE. What d’you want?
+
+  SIMS. Sit down.
+
+  UKIE. Ah, they’re all right.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Shut that door.
+
+  [_Hopper slides the door shut. Rubin shuts trap._]
+
+  MOSE [_to Skelly_]. You all in, boy?
+
+  SKELLY. Put your hand on here.
+
+  MOSE [_his hand on Skelly’s forehead_]. You is surely hot.
+
+  SKELLY. Yeah, I thought so.
+
+  [_Edna sits near Sims. Red goes to her._]
+
+  RED. You hurt your shoulder?
+
+  EDNA. Did I? I lit like a ton of brick.
+
+  SIMS [_quickly_]. Was that a girl? Ukie! There’s a girl here.
+
+  UKIE. Don’t ask me.
+
+  SIMS [_looking around vacantly_]. No, it couldn’t be a girl.
+
+  EDNA. You looking for a girl, grandpap?
+
+  SIMS. Sounds like a pretty girl. Ukie, is she pretty?
+
+  UKIE. I got to hand it to her, uncle. She’s a queen.
+
+  [_A pause._]
+
+  SIMS. Listen, would you mind—letting me touch your hand?
+
+  EDNA [_edging away_]. What for? I ain’t any sideshow, you know.
+
+  SIMS. Aw, never mind.
+
+  EDNA. Oh, all right. [_Giving Sims her hand._] What do you think of
+    it?
+
+  SIMS. Yeah, it’s a girl’s hand. I ain’t held a girl’s hand
+    since—probably before you was born.
+
+  EDNA. Well, have they changed much?
+
+  SIMS. No—no. They’re just the same.
+
+  BALDY. Keep away from her, uncle.
+
+  SIMS. Yeah?
+
+  BALDY. Yeah; that’s a bad hand to hold.
+
+  SIMS. Yeah?
+
+  BALDY. That little mascot is just two jumps ahead of the bulls.
+
+  [_Sims releases her. She moves away with some relief._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_who has been exploring the far end of the car_]. Say,
+    what’s in the keg?
+
+  [_Snake is sitting aloof and silent._]
+
+  UKIE. I don’t know. I couldn’t open it.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Well, we’re going to find out.
+
+  [_He extracts a short lever from an inner pocket and attacks the keg
+    with it. Bill and Rubin gather around to watch. Skelly sits suddenly
+    bolt upright and looks fixedly at blank space._]
+
+  MOSE. Now, white boy, you all right. You lie down and sleep.
+
+  SKELLY [_resuming his normal expression_]. Any water here?
+
+  MOSE. Ah’s afraid they ain’t any water.
+
+  SKELLY. It’s malaria, that’s what it is. [_He lies down._] I had it
+    before. Got it in the Argentine.
+
+  MOSE. Yeah?
+
+  SKELLY. Say, listen, if I get wild, you hold me down, will yuh?
+
+  MOSE. Suah. You’ll be fine.
+
+  SKELLY. All I’m going to need is one big black nigger sitting on the
+    safety-valve.
+
+  MOSE. All right, boy; ah’s it.
+
+  BILL [_to Oklahoma_]. There. You got it. Pry under.
+
+  [_Baldy and Hopper drift over toward the keg. There is a ripping sound
+    as Oklahoma pries the cover loose._]
+
+  BALDY. Keg of nails, huh?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. God, it’s harder’n nails if I’m any judge.
+
+  RUBIN. Don’t drink it, old yegger; it’s probably two-thirds wood
+    alcohol and the rest fusel oil.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Well, what d’you expect in a God-fearing nation like this?
+    Who’s got a cup?
+
+  BILL. Who’s got a cup? Hey, little song-and-dance, has your partner
+    got a cup?
+
+  UKIE [_tossing Sim’s cup to Bill_]. Don’t lose it. We need it in the
+    business.
+
+  [_Several folding cups appear among the hoboes._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. There’s plenty of cups.
+
+  BALDY. Drink easy if you don’t want to die.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_dipping into the keg_]. If I don’t die, then it’s good,
+    see? [_He smells the liquor._] Got a bouquet like a Ford radiator.
+    [_He gulps it._] Boys, it’s a gold mine. Sweet as a baby’s breath.
+    [_He drinks again. The others dip in._]
+
+  BALDY. Here’s happy days!
+
+  BILL. Here’s to the unfortunate guy ’at owns it.
+
+  RUBIN. Here’s to the damn fool that didn’t know any more’n to leave it
+    here.
+
+  HOPPER. Here’s to my wife and me a long ways from home.
+
+  BILL. Here’s to me old mother.
+
+  RUBIN. Hey, cut that out!
+
+  BILL. Cut what out?
+
+  RUBIN. Drinkin’ to your mother.
+
+  BILL. Why not?
+
+  RUBIN. It ain’t respectful.
+
+  BILL. Hell, have I got to be respectful to my own mother?
+
+  RUBIN. If you gotta drink to a girl, drink to Red’s sweetie.
+
+  BILL. All right, Red’s sweetie. Come on, everybody, here’s Red’s
+    sweetie.
+
+  [_They all drink._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You better get in on this, Mick.
+
+  RED. There’s gotta be somebody left to bury the dead.
+
+  HOPPER. Them that dies easy can bury themselves.
+
+  BALDY. Let the company do the buryin’. Fifty dollars for a black
+    hearse. Twenty-five for a rubber-tired cab. Two dollars for a
+    mourner.
+
+  [_Snake and Ukie approach the keg._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Mick, come on in, and bring your lady friend.
+
+  RED. Drink it up. We ain’t thirsty.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Come on, come on. No kiddin’.
+
+  BILL. Have one, Mick, have one! Have one, girlie!
+
+  RED. Say, if I want a drink I’m able to reach for it.
+
+  BILL. Well, by God!
+
+  BALDY. Say, you give me a pain.
+
+  RED. I can drink—but I ain’t drinking—understand?
+
+  BILL. He’s saving himself.
+
+  BALDY. Yeah, that’s it. Got a wild night ahead.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_carrying his cup to Red and Edna_]. Will you drink, or not?
+
+  RED. No.
+
+  EDNA. No, thanks.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_thrusting his cup on Edna_]. Don’t be so damn particular,
+    dearie. You’re going to spoil your rep.
+
+  RED [_rising_]. Move the hell out! You hear? Haul your freight!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Well, I’m a son-of-a—pardon me, pardon me, I’m sure. [_He
+    smiles nastily._] Let him alone, boys. Let him queer himself. He
+    signed the pledge, see? He belongs to the Christian Endeavor. Only,
+    listen, Mick, you’re too virtuous to be running with a pretty.
+    She’ll corrupt you. Girls is a corrupting influence on young men.
+    Now, you better turn her over to me, because she’ll be safe with me
+    and she won’t do any harm to my morals. My morals is shot, see? [_He
+    bows._] Sweetheart, I claim the next dance.
+
+  EDNA. My card’s full, Oklahoma.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_turning_]. Well, I ain’t. My God, is the whole world going
+    virtuous, women included? Give me another drink.
+
+  SNAKE [_to Bill_]. Lend me the scoop, will you?
+
+  BILL. I will not.
+
+  SNAKE [_snatching Rubin’s cup_]. Say, you think this is your birthday?
+    [_He drinks._]
+
+  UKIE. Lend me a loan of my dipper.
+
+  [_Bill gives his cup to Ukie._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Keep your front feet out of the poison, some of you, and
+    give Ukie a chance.
+
+  SKELLY [_sitting up and looking wildly at Mose_]. Get away from me.
+    Get away from me.
+
+  MOSE. Now—you ain’t gonna fight yo’ ol’ nurse, is you?
+
+  SKELLY [_in horror_]. I said it. Get away from me.
+
+  MOSE. Suah. Ah’s goan away. Only remember, you told me to sit on you.
+    You getting pretty wild.
+
+  SKELLY [_screaming_]. Quit crawling that way! Quit crawling! [_He
+    tries to rise. Mose holds him._] Lay off me you hear? Lay off me!
+    [_He leaps to his feet, throwing Mose across the car._] I’ll fix
+    you, black man! I’ll fix you.
+
+  [_He draws a knife._]
+
+  EDNA. Red! Quick!
+
+  [_Red runs to help Mose._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_dashing toward Skelly._] Look out, Red!
+
+  [_Skelly wrestles with Red and Oklahoma, who has caught his right arm.
+    Mose shrinks away. Bill and Rubin rush to help subdue Skelly. The
+    knife drops from his hand. He is forced down to his former place._]
+
+  SKELLY [_as Red and Oklahoma sit on him_]. You can’t kill ’em. You
+    can’t even cook ’em. [_His voice drops to a moan_]. He’s a sloth—a
+    giant sloth. When you boil ’em they turn to rubber. They drop out of
+    the trees—see that? They drop out of the trees. Yeah—they live
+    forever, they live forever. [_He suddenly drops asleep. Red and
+    Oklahoma get up, watching him._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. The poor nut’s asleep.
+
+  [_Mose picks up the knife._]
+
+  RED. Lend me the knife, will you?
+
+  MOSE. No, sir. That’s his knife.
+
+  RED. I’ll give it back.
+
+  MOSE. All right. Sure.
+
+  [_He hands the knife to Red._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. What do you want that for?
+
+  RED [_sitting down_]. That’s all right. I want to fix my shoe, see?
+
+  SKELLY [_in his sleep_]. —drink o’ water.
+
+  RED. He’s asking for water.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. I guess he’ll have to do without it.
+
+  RUBIN. All he needs is a good sleep. I used to get that way after I
+    was in the Philippines. It ain’t nothin’ much.
+
+  [_The group disposes itself about Skelly, watching him. Some of the
+    men sit down._]
+
+  BALDY. You been in the Philippines?
+
+  RUBIN. Three years.
+
+  BALDY. That’s where I got this. [_He points to the scar on his face._]
+
+  BILL. Fighting for your country?
+
+  BALDY. Naw! Fighting for a gal.
+
+  BILL. What!
+
+  BALDY. They got gals in the Philippines worth fighting for.
+
+  RUBIN. What side was the gal fightin’ on?
+
+  BALDY. Ah! you don’t know what girls are in this country. They’re all
+    cornfed. This little girl I knew was part Bagobo, part Philippino,
+    and the other half Chinese.
+
+  BILL. Jeez! That’s a lovely breed.
+
+  BALDY. Well, she was a darb and I was nuts about her. She used to love
+    me too. Boy, how that gal could love! Say, you know where the Diga
+    river is?
+
+  RUBIN. Yep.
+
+  BALDY. Well, this was at a town called Vera. The country all around is
+    danged good-looking. The women can ride horses like the men and you
+    ought to seen that little black-headed girl of mine ride. She was
+    rich, too, and I was sitting on top of the world with the money she
+    give me.
+
+  BILL. Can you imagine that, now!
+
+  BALDY. Yah! You think because the girls don’t fall for you, they don’t
+    fall for anybody.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Hey! Cut it out, Bill. What become of the frail?
+
+  BALDY. You see, her old man was a Christian when he was young, but he
+    went back to the Chink religion when he got rich. He suspicioned me,
+    liking his girl, so one time he give a big dinner on New Year’s Day.
+    I got stewed on some green booze that ‘ud tear the hide off a mule,
+    so they called in an old Chink doctor and he explained a lot of junk
+    to me and felt my pulse on the bridge of my nose. Then someone
+    busted me on the head and a lot of drunken Chinks and half-breeds
+    started fightin’ with me. They got me in a corner and I had to fight
+    like a Mick at Donnybrook. My little girl kept screaming and trying
+    to get to me but a Chink pulled her back every time. Another Chink
+    came running at me with a crooked knife and I picked up a chair and
+    jabbed at him. He came tearing in anyway, and I uppercut him and
+    stood him right on his wig and he twirled around like a top. Some
+    other Chinks got at me after I’d dropped a couple more, and then one
+    laid my cheek open with some kind of a long knife. I was darn near
+    all in myself, but my girl got away and run to me, then somebody
+    grabbed her away and her old dad kept yelling not to kill me because
+    it would get him into trouble. The old Chink doctor stopped the
+    blood and I went to sleep like a baby. My three years was up in the
+    army when I come out of the hospital and they shipped me back to
+    Frisco. I never saw the little girl again. They shipped her away
+    somewhere.... That’s all. I want a drink. [_He goes to the keg._]
+
+  RUBIN. Yeah, that’s the Philippines all right.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Anything ever happen to you?
+
+  RUBIN. Yeah—mebbe—I can’t remember.
+
+  BILL. You born in this country, Oklahoma?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Naw. Tipperary.
+
+  BILL. The hell you say!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You never heard of it, huh? Well, it’s on the map. My dad
+    was a beggar, the dirty old devil. Most of them are, over there.
+
+  HOPPER. Yeah, in Tipperary, they are.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Yeah, and in Belfast, too! He was the meanest old devil that
+    ever went without a tail. I’ve seen him pull his hair out of his
+    head in bunches. He used to play blind, and he’d take us kids with
+    him, and he had a sign he tied on across our chests that said:
+    “Motherless.” We’d go along singing crazy songs about God and
+    heaven. The old boy’d sing, too. That old devil had more stalls’n a
+    livery stable. He could play paralyzed till the women’d cry over
+    him.... My sister was a good kid. I remember when she went away with
+    some fat old jane that was dressed up like a nigger wench on a
+    circus day. After she left the old bum was drunk for a week. She was
+    fourteen years old, and I was twelve. He sold her to that old cat.
+    She cried and kissed me when she left, but the old man said how nice
+    we’d both have it, and I could come and see her in her new home.
+
+  RUBIN. Where is she now?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Croaked. I’d swing on five gallows to kill that old man. I’d
+    hold him out and shake him to death like a rat—well, he’s likely
+    dead by now.
+
+  HOPPER. You know, I got it in for a guy that’s prob’ly dead. I only
+    wished he was alive so I could get my mits on him. I used to work
+    for him on the farm when I was a kid and damn near froze to death
+    because he was too stingy to buy me clothes. Him and his wife was
+    praying Christians, too close to eat. They used to go to prayer
+    meeting and leave Ivy and me alone together. We was only kids, but
+    we both had the devil in us. While they was off singing Hosannas in
+    the highest we crawled in bed together. She asked me not to tell,
+    and I didn’t, and she didn’t either. She was a little beauty, too.
+    Went to Sunday school every Sunday. Long black hair and little
+    breasts as round as apples.... Hell, maybe I got even with the old
+    man. I don’t know....
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Hey, Red, where’d you come from? Spill it.
+
+  RED. I don’t dast tell what I know. I don’t want to shock anybody.
+
+  BILL. You must of been born somewhere? Where did you get your big
+    start?
+
+  RED. All right, I’ll tell one. Well, now, come to think of it, I was
+    born in the Big Potato Mountains. My father was Jack the Giant
+    Killer and my mother was the Sleeping Beauty. At the age of eighteen
+    I went to work for the local storekeeper for a hundred bucks a year.
+    I saved my money and in two years I was able to buy the Standard Oil
+    Company and found the Carnegie Institute. It was me fought the
+    Battle of Waterloo and blew up the Battleship Maine. Remember the
+    Maine? Hell, I wouldn’t lie to you boys.
+
+  HOPPER. Say, can the guff, will you?
+
+  BALDY. Prob’ly you’re funny and then again prob’ly you ain’t so damn
+    funny.
+
+  BILL. What’s the matter with you?
+
+  RED. You asked me to tell one, didn’t you? Well I told one, see?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You don’t like biography?
+
+  RED. Sure! I always fall for that sob stuff, just the way the dames
+    fell for Baldy out in Bagabo.
+
+  BALDY. You’re witty, you are. You’re witty! Yeah!
+
+  RED. Think so? I’ve always been that way.
+
+  EDNA. Red, don’t!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. I guess that’s about enough for you. You can get off right
+    now.
+
+  RED. Off where?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Off the train. I’ve seen guys get offen trains goin’ faster
+    than this here one.
+
+  EDNA. Oklahoma, you wouldn’t put him off!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Don’t you worry, girlie. I’ll take care of you. [_To Red._]
+    Why do you think I stuck up for the gal? Because I took to you so
+    much? When I take chances, kid, I got reasons. When I’m with a gang
+    it’s my gang, and if there’s a gal in the gang she’s my gal. She
+    don’t need you no more.
+
+  BALDY. Yes, but make it legal, Oklahoma, make it legal! Gents, I move
+    we sets up a Kangaroo Court right here and now, and tries this
+    little Mick for being a lily-fingered gazabo, that’s too good for
+    the rest of us.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Sure, that’s right. We got plenty of time. Make it legal.
+
+  RED. Who says I’m too good for you? I’ll mash the can off anybody that
+    says I’m too good for him.
+
+  RUBIN. No, you don’t; you got to stand trial for a speech like that
+    one. You kidded the pants off us once too often; you talk like a
+    choir boy.
+
+  BALDY. Come on, I’m the judge!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Not by a jug-full. Nobody but your Uncle Ike is going to be
+    judge. I know what’s law in this country. What the hell do you know
+    about a court? Nothing. All right, you can be prosecuting attorney.
+    Hopper, you can defend him.
+
+  HOPPER. Aw, hell.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. That’s all right. Somebody’s got to defend him. Wait till I
+    put on my wig. [_He ties a handkerchief into an imitation wig and
+    sits on the keg, the box before him._] The bailiffs will bring the
+    prisoner before the bar.
+
+  [_Bill and Rubin escort Red to Oklahoma._]
+
+  BILL. Oyez, oyez; the court is hereby declared setting!
+
+  RED. All right. Go easy, judge; it’s a first offense.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Shut up. [_He uses the revolver for a gavel._] Order in the
+    court. You think you’re gonta get by easy because you know the
+    judge? Gentlemen of the jury, knights of the road, hangers-on and
+    passers-by, fourflushers in the poker pack, this here court is now
+    formally open for the dispensation of private prejudice and other
+    family grudges.
+
+  BILL. Hear ye, hear ye!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Be it known by those present that this here court will
+    dispense with justice for the present, like every other court in
+    this land of the millionaire and home of the slave. This here court
+    is a bar—wait a minute—that reminds me of something— [_He rises from
+    the keg, takes off the lid and helps himself to a drink._] this here
+    court is a bar-room—I mean a bar— [_He sits on the keg again._] for
+    the subornation of evidence and the laying down of the law.
+    Gentlemen may cry for justice, gentlemen may plead for justice, but
+    I tell you that a court is a place where justice can be evaded by
+    anybody that’s able to afford it. The only question before the jury,
+    Mr. Prosecuting Attorney is, who can afford it?
+
+  MOSE. Now you’re talking!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Order in the court. Further interruptions from the peanut
+    gallery will result in the courtroom being cleared of all
+    such—suches. [_He waves a hand majestically at Mose._] Mr.
+    Prosecuting Attorney, to say nothing of the defense, which ain’t
+    important, the law in this here case is the law of the road. I leave
+    the procuring of necessary perjury to you, because it’s your
+    business. Prisoner at the bar, where was you born.
+
+  RED. Wyoming, damn your honor.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Prosecuting Attorney, what’s the charge against this here
+    red-headed wolverine? Speak candidly, and remember the court has no
+    mercy on poor men.
+
+  BALDY. The charge, your dishonor, is being a sissy and sleeping in
+    beds and eating in restaurants. Moreover, this Mick, to my certain
+    knowledge, takes wild women and makes ’em tame. He’s got a Y. M. C.
+    A. influence over skirts. To my certain knowledge he picks a sweet
+    little chicken out of a sporting house and seduces her into marrying
+    him. An’ if the girls in the sporting houses gets married, I leaves
+    it to your dishonor, what’s us poor single men going to do?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Boy, this is a grave charge. I don’t know what you’re going
+    to do about this. You better throw yourself on the mercy of the
+    magistrate. It appears by the evidence that you’ve been undermining
+    the morals of the home and affronting American womanhood by
+    assaulting the oldest profession in the world. How is the virginity
+    of the growing girl to be protected when there ain’t no sporting
+    houses to stand as a bulwark of virtue? I hereby sentence you....
+
+  RED. Wait a minute, ain’t there going to be any defense?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Defense hell! What good’s a defense when the court’s made up
+    its mind? On the other hand, speaking contrarywise, we might just as
+    well have a defense. It looks more legal that way and it can’t do
+    any harm because the court won’t allow itself to be affected.
+    Hopper, come on and defend him and remember anything you say’ll be
+    used against you.
+
+  HOPPER. Can I have a drink?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Try and get it. The court is now setting on the drinks.
+
+  HOPPER. Well, say judge, can’t you set somewheres else?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Ain’t you got any more respect for the judiciary than that?
+    Do you want this here court to hang by a strap? Anybody’d think you
+    was the Transit Company. We will now proceed with the defense. Mr.
+    Attorney for the Defense—shoot.
+
+  HOPPER. Well, judge, I’ll tell you; I got some suspicions of the
+    aforesaid prisoner myself. He don’t look regular to me. But, hell, a
+    lawyer’ll say anything, an’ I’m agonta begin and presume he’s no
+    better’n the rest of us.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. That’s right—make it legal. Be as crooked as you damn
+    please, but be legal. That’s the law.
+
+  HOPPER. Your Honor, this stiff’s record’s as clean as a nigger in a
+    coal mine. He ain’t honest. He ain’t never done any work. He denies
+    it verbatim. He makes tame girls wild. He drinks like a sewer and
+    chaws tobacco like a walking beam. The nearest he ever came to being
+    in a restaurant was buying a sandwich in a delicatessen. He ain’t
+    slept in a bed since he was weaned. He can curse like a taxi-driver
+    and fight like a one-eyed mule.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Looka here, Defense; you’re trying to influence the court.
+    You try that again and you’ll be debarred and dismembered. This here
+    court’s made up its mind and it’s incorruptible. [_Hopper scratches
+    himself._] Furthermore, quit scratchin’ yourself in front of me. You
+    make the court itchy. [_He scratches._]
+
+  HOPPER. Aw, it’s a lousy court anyway!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Bailiff, this goddam attorney’s scratching himself and it’s
+    rank disrespect of our judicial prerogatives! Take him away.
+
+  [_Hopper is led away._]
+
+  HOPPER. Can I have a drink?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Order in the court! Prisoner at the bar, have you anything
+    to say?
+
+  RED. Why, God damn your Honor, I got enough to say to fill a Bible!
+    The way you’ve been conducting this case is a national scandal. Why,
+    you big bag of wool, you ain’t got any more honesty or principle
+    than the Supreme Bench of the United States. You ain’t heard any
+    evidence, you give me a cheap lawyer and you said yourself you ain’t
+    in favor of a square deal! I object!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You can’t object.
+
+  RED. I do object.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Overruled. You ain’t got any standing. What do you mean,
+    asking for a square deal? This is a court, ain’t it? You can’t get a
+    square deal in a court! You’re accused of being a member of the
+    middle class and I’m damned if I ain’t beginning to believe it.
+
+  RED. The middle class! Jesus! I grew up in Rabbit Town, I been running
+    with women since I was twelve, and I can carry more liquor without
+    sinking than a whole God damn section crew of drunken Italians! I’ve
+    travelled more miles than the oldest commuter on the Erie Railroad!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Yeah, but you don’t like it. You take to it like a chicken
+    to water. You’ll be a drug-store clerk yet.
+
+  RED. All right, I don’t like it. But if I ain’t bummed my way into
+    more towns than any gray whiskered bunkerino in this outfit I’ll get
+    off the train! I’ve been in Kalispell and Salt Lake City and
+    Valparaiso! I’ve been in Waukesha and Winnemucca and Winnipeg and
+    Miami. I been in Boone and Cheyenne and Jefferson City and Rock
+    Island. I been in Memphis and Baltimore and Santa Monica and Walla
+    Walla and Saskatoon. You can’t name a town on the big time I don’t
+    know by heart!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Irreverent and immaterial. The court will now deliver
+    sentence. [_He rises rather unsteadily, the liquor beginning to tell
+    on him._]
+
+  RED. Hell, I ain’t been found guilty yet.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You know you’re guilty. That’s disevident to the most
+    unscrupulous mind. You’re so guilty you look innocent. Gentlemen of
+    the jury, this country was discovered by Columbus in 1492 and the
+    wops have been coming here ever since. Once there was two Jews, and
+    now look at ’em. If the yeggs and stiffs of this great and glorious
+    republic don’t take steps to resist the encroachments of
+    civilization, pretty soon there won’t be any yeggs and stiffs.
+
+  HOPPER. Yeah, that’s true. The Salvation Army gets a license to beg in
+    Little Rock, and I can’t.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Hey!
+
+  HOPPER. No use being crippled any more. Country’s bound for hell in a
+    handbasket.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Before going on and continuing, will somebody murder the
+    Honorable Attorney for the Defense? [_Bill promptly sits on
+    Hopper._] Gentlemen of the Jury, since the beginning of time there’s
+    been three classes in this large and magnificent territory, now
+    governed exclusively by General Dawes and the Anti-Saloon League. I
+    pause for a reply, and if anybody answers me, God help him. First,
+    there is them that gives orders; second, there is them that does the
+    work; and third, but not least, there is them that don’t do nothing
+    and never will!
+
+  RUBIN. Hear ye! Hear ye!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Gentlemen, of them that don’t do nothing there is two kinds,
+    yeggs and stiffs. The only difference between ’em is that the yeggs
+    take what they want and the stiffs ask for it. Them two kinds is the
+    only one’s that’s free and equal according to the provisions of the
+    Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United
+    States. Yes, gentlemen, out of the whole goddam hundred and ten
+    millions recorded for their sins in the last census there remains
+    but a little handful of free men, paying no homage to capital and
+    bending no neck to the foreman, turning no cranks, pitching no
+    bundles, wheeling no go-carts, bringing home no wages, walking
+    independent and alone under the sky. The world’s their outdoor
+    sleeping-porch and slumgullion is their kosher. Gentlemen all,
+    that’s us.
+
+  ALL [_except Red, Snake and Edna_]. Hooray!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. But, gentlemen, we have in our midst, to the shame of old
+    Ireland, a slick little Mick, speaking several languages, and with
+    the advantage of a generous hobo education, that intends to get
+    married and support the established institutions. Do you know what
+    we’re going to do with him?
+
+  BALDY. Lynch him, I say.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Shame on you, Mr. Prosecuting Attorney, for that illiterate
+    suggestion. No, sir; we gotta do everything decently and in order.
+    The sentence is exile to Russia. Little Red loses his sweetie to the
+    custody of the court and gets off the train. Bailiffs, do your duty!
+    Open the door.
+
+  RED. What!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Open the door. [_Bill opens the door._]
+
+  RED. You don’t mean it.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_savagely_]. The hell I don’t mean it.
+
+  BILL. Hey, Judge, we’re on a trustle. Say, we’ve left the main line.
+
+  RUBIN. We’re crossing the Missouri, and it’s deeper than the Gulf of
+    Mexico. If we kick him off here he’ll have to swim.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_sitting_]. Hell, that’s too bad. The court is visibly
+    affected. [_He wipes away a tear._]
+
+  BILL. We’ll have to wait and put him off on the other side. Geez, we
+    switched at Fort Union.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. That being the case, tie him up.
+
+  BILL [_as he and Rubin arrest Red_]. Stand still, you red-headed flea!
+    You want me to bash you one?
+
+  RED. I warn you, if you dump me off this rattler there’s going to be
+    murder done when I catch up with you!
+
+  BILL. Aw, take it in fun, Mick, take it in fun.
+
+  RED. Take that in fun! [_He socks Bill viciously on the jaw._]
+
+  BILL. Hey, you dirty bastard!
+
+  [_He and Rubin tie Red, the rest laughing heartily. They carry him
+    back and dump him on the sacks near Edna._]
+
+  BALDY [_at door_]. Hey, Snake, this rattler’s beating it south. We
+    must have switched at Fort Union.
+
+  SNAKE. Yeah? Well, see what you can do about it.
+
+  HOPPER. Hell, this is all wheat-growin’ country around here.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. What the hell do you care where you’re going?
+
+  HOPPER. Well, now I’ll have to walk across the Rocky Mountains.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. The court’s adjourned. [_He rises and kicks the keg._] Boys,
+    is anybody going to save me from being a solitary drinker?
+
+  HOPPER [_as they cluster round_]. Lemme at it!
+
+  BALDY. Here’s the Kangaroo Judge!
+
+  BILL. Here’s the lady friend of the Kangaroo Judge!
+
+  HOPPER. Here’s the ward of the court!
+
+  RUBIN. Here’s to fallen women!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Wait a minute! That’s a good skoal! [_He walks over to Edna,
+    cup in hand._] Cutie, a toast has been proposed to fallen frails.
+    Here’s to ’em. [_He drinks._]
+
+  EDNA. Don’t talk to me about it. Try the Florence Crittenden Home.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You know, sweetie, I got a suspicion you’re a little wicked.
+    That’s a compliment.
+
+  EDNA. Very sweet of you, I’m sure.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Now I’m as wicked as hell, and if you and me was to be
+    wicked together, my God, how wicked we could be!
+
+  EDNA. I’m one of these modern women, judge. I claim the right to pick
+    the guy I’m gonta be wicked with.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You know, darling, you’ve got the old judge going. Now,
+    you’re the ward of the court, and I don’t want to cause any talk,
+    but God damn his Honor, he’d like to break the Mann act and the
+    Sullivan law with you.
+
+  EDNA. You ain’t any Valentino you know.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Listen, kiddie, Little Red is deserting you. He’s getting
+    off the train as soon as we hit dry land. Who’s it going to be? You
+    know who it’s going to be.
+
+  EDNA. Who’s it going to be?... Why, the Snake. He’s a better man than
+    you are.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Who says so?
+
+  EDNA. The Snake as good as spit in your eye back in the camp—and what
+    do you do? You make some clever remark about not needing to kill
+    anybody at the moment. Lucky for you you can talk. If you couldn’t
+    talk yourself out of trouble you wouldn’t live long.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Lady bird, the only reason I didn’t have a go with the Snake
+    was that he was scared to raise his eyes higher’n my shoe strings.
+
+  EDNA. You better whisper that, because he’s looking at you.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_turning_]. All right, Arkansas; the lady wants a fight. Get
+    up. [_Arkansas rises._] Angel-face likes the silent kind. She likes
+    ’em silent as the White House after election. When I get through
+    with you, pardner, you can look for a furnished room in a cemetery.
+    It’s going to be the peace of the dead from then on.
+
+  SNAKE. Do you always start a fight with a gat in your pocket?
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_tossing the gun out the door_]. There it goes. Moreover, if
+    you’ve got any last statements to make or any fond farewells you’d
+    better get ’em over with. They call you the Snake, do they? Well,
+    I’m a snake-eater, see? I eat ’em alive. When a snake bites me it’s
+    the snake that dies.
+
+  SNAKE. Go on and preach your sermon, because there won’t be any at
+    your funeral. You’re drunk, you bag of guts, and I’m going to tear
+    the wind-pipe out of you.
+
+  [_Oklahoma swings and misses. The Snake leaps for his throat and
+    Oklahoma gets a similar grip. They fall and roll over, Oklahoma
+    ending on top. He chokes Snake into submission, then pauses
+    thoughtfully, one hand still holding his adversary by the shirt
+    front._]
+
+  BILL. What’s the matter, judge?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. I’m just wondering whether to kill him or not. If I don’t
+    kill him he’s going to try to kill me sometime. And if I do kill
+    him, it makes a mess on the floor.
+
+  BALDY. Aw, come on, be a sport. Let him up.
+
+  [_Ukie takes out his ukelele and begins tuning it._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. All right, Baldy, you take care of him. Maybe you better
+    give him a drink. [_He goes to the keg, and helps himself. Baldy
+    carries a drink to the Snake, who sits up._] Are you licked, you
+    sidewinder?
+
+  SNAKE. No, by God!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Oh, yes, you are. I’m going to sit by my girl. [_He goes to
+    Edna and sits at her feet._] Now, little sweet dreams, have you got
+    a good word for Oklahoma? [_He lays his head in her lap._] What do
+    you say?
+
+  EDNA [_smiling at him_]. It ain’t a bad state, judge, even, if you
+    come from it.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. That’s right, kid, be sweet to me. You don’t need to be
+    afraid of me. You going to give the old judge a kiss, Angel-face.
+    Come on, kid, show ’em how you do it.
+
+  EDNA. Wait till I sing you something, judge. Say, Ukie, play that one
+    again. The one you was just playing.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. That’s right, sing to me, Angel-face. Sing “Say it Isn’t
+    True”—you know that one?
+
+  EDNA. I guess I know that one.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Sure, everybody knows that one. There was a swell little
+    dame used to sing that back in Des Moines. Sing it, kid.
+
+  [_Ukie plays._]
+
+  EDNA [_singing_].
+
+               Sometimes when you’re far away;
+               Sometimes when you’ve been gone a long while,
+               Maybe half a day,
+               Maybe half a mile,
+               I look out the window
+               And it looks like rain
+               And I think very likely
+               You won’t come here again.
+
+  [_During song, Red backs around, Edna gets Skelly’s knife from Red’s
+    pocket and cuts the bonds. Red returns to original position and
+    joins in song._]
+
+  EDNA and UKIE.
+
+                    But say it isn’t true,
+                    Oh, say it isn’t true,
+                    Don’t tell me you don’t love me,
+                    Tell me you do.
+                    Sometimes, oh every once in a while,
+                    I forget how you kiss me,
+                    Forget how you smile;
+                    Then I think someone else
+                    Has cast a spell over you—
+                    But say it isn’t true,
+                    Oh, say it isn’t true!
+
+  UKIE [_rising_]. Now then, come on in, you pikers!
+
+  ALL [_singing_]. Oh, say it isn’t true, etc.
+
+  BALDY. Say, that’s God damn good. Let’s do it again.
+
+  [_There is a trampling overhead._]
+
+  BILL. Sh-h! There’s the brakeman!
+
+  BALDY. More likely dicks.
+
+  [_There is a pause, then the trap lifts._]
+
+  BRAKEMAN [_on the roof_]. My God, there’s enough bums down there to
+    fill up the Grand Canyon.
+
+  DETECTIVE. I’m going down.
+
+  BRAKEMAN. You better not.
+
+  DETECTIVE. Ah, hell, it’s a bunch of stiffs. [_A detective, revolver
+    in hand, drops from the trap._]
+
+  DETECTIVE [_looking round_]. This is sure some sweet little crowd.
+    [_He looks at the keg._] And you certainly punished the booze. Well
+    you’ll pay for that, see? You’ll pay for that. Shell out. That’s a
+    ten dollar keg and you can dig up ten dollars or get off and take a
+    little drink of Missouri River.
+
+  [_He walks to the door, turning his back insolently. Oklahoma, who has
+    risen, suddenly kicks the detective out the door. As he falls, he
+    clutches at the jam and his revolver flies from his hand. Red grabs
+    it from Hopper, who has picked it up, and retreats to a corner with
+    Edna._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Now I know what the carp-fish eat at the bottom of the Big
+    Muddy!
+
+  HOPPER. Hey, judge—he’s got the gun.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Hel-lo!
+
+  RED. Ha! Now what do you say we have that trial over again. Bailiffs,
+    do your duty, Oklahoma’s getting off the train.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Hopper, is that gun loaded?
+
+  HOPPER. Sure, it’s loaded.
+
+  RED. Come on, sing us something, judge, sing “Say it Isn’t True.”
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Why you goddam little fool, do you think that gun’s
+    protection? You think you can bust through the drag-net they got out
+    for you two? You ain’t got a chance. Why you ain’t got a chance
+    against me. What do you think that damn little gun’s going to get
+    you? Just five minutes more, that’s all—just five minutes more.
+
+  BILL. Hell! He lit in the mud! We’re across the river! Beat it, youse.
+
+  [_Train bangs to a stop. The gang jumps off. Mose, Sims and Ukie
+    remain._]
+
+  UKIE. Now there’s going to be hell to pay—you better beat it, nigger.
+
+  MOSE. What did ah done?
+
+  BRAKEMAN [_appearing at door with detective_]. Well, what are you
+    doin’ here?
+
+  UKIE. We ain’t with that gang. We paid for this ride.
+
+  DETECTIVE. Yeah, they’re all right. They’re going south; let ’em ride
+    to Fairview.
+
+  BRAKEMAN. All right, you’re doin’ it. They’ll get ’em at Fairview all
+    right.
+
+  [_The two disappear._]
+
+  MOSE. Hey, white man, Ah’s goin’ no’th! Ah don’ wanna go south no mo.’
+    [_Exit._]
+
+  RED. Let’s get out of here, kid. This place ain’t healthy. Not that
+    way, they’ll see you. Come on!
+
+  [_Train starts._]
+
+  EDNA. So long, Ukie! [_In end-door._]
+
+  UKIE. Good-bye, Juliette.
+
+  [_Exit Edna, then Red._]
+
+  SIMS. Who’d she go with, Ukie?
+
+  UKIE. She’s going north with a little red-headed guy.
+
+  [_Ukie plays the ukelele. Sims drowses. Skelly still sleeps in the
+    corner._]
+
+
+                                CURTAIN
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+                                ACT III
+
+
+_Scene: A deserted claim shack on the edge of Montana. There are two
+windows in the rear, a door at the left. No furniture has been left in
+the place save a stove which stands in the corner at the right and a
+kitchen table between the windows. A flour barrel stands on one side of
+the table, a fish keg under it._
+
+_Time: It is just daylight the next morning._
+
+_At Rise: Edna is still asleep on the floor at the extreme right, her face
+to the wall. Little Red sits bolt upright, the revolver on his knee,
+evidently guarding her. At the left, near the door, the hoboes are
+stretched out in heavy slumber. They are all here except the four who
+remained in the box car. Baldy stirs, yawns loudly, lifts his head, and
+looks at Red._
+
+  BALDY. Beautiful morning, Mickey.
+
+  RED. Yeah, ain’t it, though?
+
+  BILL. Shut up, will you?
+
+  BALDY. There, there; did we wake him up?
+
+  BILL. What the hell’s wrong with you? It ain’t mor’n four o’clock. I
+    got to get my beauty sleep, ain’t I?
+
+  BALDY. Well, you need it, all right.
+
+  BILL. All right, shut up and let me rest my hands and face.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_sitting up_]. Well, my God, will you take a look at Red
+    here! He’s been standing guard all night, and expecting trouble any
+    minute. Red, you do beat hell. Didn’t you get any sleep at all, kid?
+
+  RED. I don’t need any sleep. I used to be a six-day bicycle rider.
+    Anyway, why in hell didn’t you hoboes look up a claim shack of your
+    own? We found this joint first.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. We didn’t know you was in here. And for the matter of that
+    there ain’t another shack within two miles and it was raining and
+    darker than a bushel of black cats. If you hadn’t lit the candle we
+    wouldn’t have found you in a thousand years.... It certainly is hell
+    to keep you awake like that. Why didn’t you go to sleep, you poor
+    fish? We was all asleep.
+
+  RUBIN. Who was awake?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Aw, Red’s been awake all night, with the blue-iron all ready
+    for business. Afraid somebody’d steal his guinea.
+
+  RUBIN. Now ain’t that terrible? He won’t be hardly any good today
+    keeping them late hours and all. You’re going to lose your job with
+    the chippie, kid, if you go and get out of condition.
+
+  BALDY. That’s all right, Mickey; don’t let ’em kid you. Any time you
+    need it, I seen a sign back in Minot, Lost Manhood Restored. They do
+    it cheap back there.
+
+  RED. If they could do that maybe they could grow hair on that solid
+    ivory of yours. Why don’t you try ’em?
+
+  BALDY. I don’t need hair on my head. I got it on my chest.
+
+  HOPPER [_getting up to look out window_]. Jeez, it’s morning!
+
+  BILL. Aw, go to sleep.
+
+  BALDY. If you want to sleep, go on outside. There’s a million acres of
+    prairie out there with nobody using it. Pick yourself out a soft
+    acre and go to sleep in the middle of it.
+
+  BILL. Hell, I don’t want to wake up, because if I wake up I’ve gotta
+    have breakfast and where am I going to get it?
+
+  BALDY. Ah, the country’s lousy with jack-rabbits. Catch yourself one.
+    The way you beat it away from the rattler last night a jack-rabbit
+    wouldn’t have a chance.
+
+  HOPPER [_sounding on the flour barrel with his knuckles_]. There’s
+    somethin’ in this.
+
+  BALDY. God, he’s hopeful. I suppose you think it’s full of hot
+    muffins.
+
+  HOPPER [_reaching into the barrel_]. It’s flour. Can anybody cook?
+
+  BILL. I don’t want any of that. I’ll bet it’s full of boll weevil.
+
+  HOPPER. No, it’s all right. There ain’t even been mice in it.
+
+  BILL. Well, then, there must be something wrong with it.
+
+  RUBIN [_investigating the fish keg_]. Boys, we’ve got some rare old
+    pickled herring here.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. See if you can catch ’em. I’ll bet they’re playing tag in
+    there.
+
+  RUBIN. Come here, Bill. Is these fish any good?
+
+  BILL. Is fish ever any good?
+
+  RUBIN. Come over here and smell ’em.
+
+  BILL. I don’t have to go over there to smell ’em. I can smell ’em
+    here.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Put that lid back on before they escape.
+
+  BALDY [_looking into the flour barrel_]. Let me see that flour. That’s
+    all right. That’s No. 1 hard, F.O.B. Minneapolis. I can make
+    something out of that.
+
+  BILL. Where you going to get your soda?
+
+  BALDY. What do you know about soda? If you want to be intelligent ask
+    me where I’m going to get the firewood.
+
+  BILL. I’ll bite, where you going to get it?
+
+  BALDY. Them as wants breakfast will step out and forage for it.
+
+  BILL. I knew there was a catch in it. Is _that_ all the better of a
+    cookie you are?
+
+  BALDY. I got to have some water, too. Get the hell out of here, you
+    bunch of bindle-stiffs, and let me work.
+
+  RUBIN. Say, if you’re going to work, I’d like to stay and watch you.
+
+  BALDY. All right, I’ll get it myself. [_He takes a pail from the table
+    and hands it to Hopper._] Here, Hopper. [_Kicks Bill out of door and
+    exits._]
+
+  BILL. You think he’s sore?
+
+  RUBIN. No—just the old woman’s way. [_He looks out the window, then
+    steps out._]
+
+  HOPPER. I’ll bet you have to walk a mile for water in this country.
+
+  [_He goes out, followed by Rubin. The Snake turns over, stretches
+    himself, takes in the situation and goes out._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_to Red_]. You don’t have to sit there all day with the gun
+    in your lap.
+
+  RED. How about last night?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Well, what about it? You’re off the train, ain’t you? The
+    sentence was carried out by what the life insurance agents calls an
+    act of God. Everything’s been working out fine for them that loves
+    the Lord, including you two babes in the wood. Put your gun away. I
+    won’t bite you.
+
+  RED. What are you waiting round for?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Because I want to talk to you.
+
+  RED. What about?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Do you know why I was going to kick you off the train?
+
+  RED. Do I seem to be going blind?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. I’ll tell you, I didn’t want you to make a damn fool of
+    yourself.
+
+  RED. I’m certain obliged.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You think I’m kidding you. Well, I’ll admit I liked the
+    little girl, but hell, I’ve seen a mort of fan-tails in my time. You
+    know what they’re good for. You don’t want to tie yourself up with
+    one of ’em, especially one with a record. Catch ’em young, kid,
+    treat ’em rough, tell ’em nothing.
+
+  RED. Did you hear me asking for any advice?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Well, you’re just a God damn fool, that’s all.
+
+  RED. Is that all you had to say?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. That’s all.
+
+  RED. Then I guess you can go now.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. All right.
+
+  [_He rises. Edna stirs and sits up, brushing back her hair._]
+
+  EDNA. Lend me your comb, will you, Red?
+
+  RED. Sure. [_He hands it to her._]
+
+  EDNA. Where’s all the procession?
+
+  RED. Out for tinder.
+
+  [_A pause._]
+
+  EDNA. What were you two talking about?
+
+  RED. Oklahoma was just backing out the door.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You know, for kids that’s supposed to know your way around,
+    I don’t know as I ever come across a pair of idiots as simple. First
+    you croak an old guy and then you set off across country for a
+    honeymoon with half a dozen detectives tied on behind you instead of
+    old shoes. I don’t get you at all.
+
+  EDNA. It does sound funny when you put it that way, don’t it?
+
+  RED. Well, life’s funny, anyhow, Oklahoma. You’ve got a lot to learn.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Yeah, life is certainly funny; and the whole world is
+    certainly behind you two, getting ready to kick you good. You break
+    all the rules of the game and you don’t even play to win.
+
+  EDNA. No?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. The first rule in making a getaway is Scatter. The dicks
+    know Angel-face is travelling with a red-headed go-bragh. They know
+    Red is travelling with a lady friend. If they find you together you
+    incriminate each other. If you want to get away, why don’t you cut
+    loose?
+
+  EDNA. If they get their nickel-plate on me it’s good night, no matter
+    who’s with me.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. All right; but if they see you with Red they spot you as
+    easy as chalk on a door, and if you’re with somebody else they’re
+    off the scent. And Red here, he’s walking right into the sheriff’s
+    lassoo. Along with you he’d an accessory. Going it alone he’s just
+    any red-headed kid, and Christ, there’s plenty of them.
+
+  RED. Aw, we’re onto your little game. You can get the hell out.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Well, as I said before, you’re just a God damn fool. You
+    think you’re noble or something. You probably saw a movie somewhere
+    and went completely nuts. You’re nuts over little Edna and she’s
+    nuts over you and she’ll have the satisfaction of ringing you in on
+    a short session of blind man’s buff out behind the Minot jail-yard.
+    You’re cuckoo. You two are going to have a grand time being buried
+    together and all.
+
+  RED. Have you ever been hung very much?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. No.
+
+  RED. Well, if you haven’t been hung, you must have got away. That’s
+    what we’re figuring on, getting away.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Where to?
+
+  RED. Ask another.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Oh, where are you going? You’ve got to get out and get out
+    fast.
+
+  EDNA. How about Medicine Hat?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Yeah, that’s all right. How’re you going to get there?
+
+  EDNA. Cut north to the Soo and cross the border in the day coach.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. The Soo’s a hellish slow railroad. Still, you can’t ride on
+    this one any more. Yeah, you’d probably make it. And then what?
+
+  EDNA. Medicine Hat.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. And then what? Then Red goes to work for the gas company,
+    huh, or selling bath tubs to the Norwegians. You’d settle down in
+    one of them three-for-a-dime cottages and keep house. They’re a fine
+    church-going crowd up there and they’d take to you like hell. You’d
+    have a wonderful time. How long do you think you could stand it?
+
+  EDNA. There’s land up there....
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Or else you move into a claim shack and spend the winter
+    dancing to keep warm.
+
+  EDNA. Have to go somewhere, you know. Can’t be nowhere, like this.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. And then you’d start raising kids. Oh God! Do you call that
+    a future? How long d’you think Red’s going to last at that? He
+    hasn’t spent more’n three days in any one town since he was old
+    enough to find the railroad track.
+
+  RED. Say, are you going to talk all day? Sign off, will you?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. I’ll tell you what we’ll do, kid. I’ve got a small roll
+    left. We’ll let Red try the Soo on his own and you and I’ll pick up
+    a bus somewhere and never stop till we get to Colorado Springs. I
+    know a hang-out down there and I’ll show you the time of your life.
+    If you’re caught with Little Red you ruin him. You don’t want to do
+    that.
+
+  RED. Wake me up when he quits. Aw, bull!
+
+  EDNA. And what if I’m caught with you?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Well, you won’t be, for one thing. And if you are—I ain’t a
+    walking identification tag like that guy.
+
+  EDNA. I guess maybe—I ought to do it.
+
+  RED. Do what?
+
+  EDNA. I ought to give you a chance.
+
+  RED. Do you mean you’ve been listening to that kangaroo?
+
+  EDNA. I guess maybe he’s right, Red.
+
+  RED. Do you want to go with him?
+
+  EDNA. Yes, I—I guess so. [_She rises._]
+
+  RED. No, you don’t. [_He rises._] And if you did, do you think I’d let
+    you? I’ll fill him as full of holes as a barrel of doughnuts first!
+    Go on out and take a running jump in the Missouri, you
+    hog-shouldered rag-picker, before I feed you a plate of ammunition!
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_looking at them in a puzzled way_]. Would you do that, Red,
+    would you actually do that?
+
+  RED. You try any monkey-business and you’ll find out! Hell, you talk
+    about slick Micks, if you ain’t the heavyweight soft-soaper of the
+    world I’d like to meet the guy that is! My God, you almost sold that
+    face of yours to a girl when she had another one to pick from! And
+    say, that face of yours would be a lovely thing to live with! Think
+    of looking at that across the breakfast table!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Damned if I don’t believe the boy means it. You know I can’t
+    make you out, Mickey. I thought you’d probably be damn glad to get
+    rid of her. As a matter of fact I thought I was doing you a favor.
+    If you was looking for dangerous baggage you couldn’t pick up
+    dynamite any more likely to send you to your Happy Hunting Ground
+    than her. And here’s your best chance to shake loose, and you don’t
+    want to do it.
+
+  RED. No, damn you, no. D’you get that?
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_lighting a cigarette_]. I don’t know as I ever knew a case
+    like it. [_He sits down._] Do you know what I think’s the matter
+    with you two? [_There is no answer. Oklahoma speaks quite seriously
+    and speculatively._] You must be in love.
+
+  RED. I don’t care what you call it.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_still pondering_]. Yes, sir; I’ve often heard about it, but
+    I never saw it before. I knew all the time there was something wrong
+    with you two. Yes, sir. That’s what it is.... Well, that being the
+    case we’ll have to make the best of it. Medicine Hat, huh? Medicine
+    Hat ... I can understand your liking her ... I liked her the first
+    time I got a flash at her pan—but this life-term stuff—oh, hell.
+
+  RED. I told you you had a lot to learn.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_to Edna_]. You don’t want to come with me?
+
+  EDNA. I’d do it—for Red. You see, I’d do anything for Red. But if he
+    wants me to stick around—why, you know where you can go. Where the
+    Pope told the Cardinal.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Aw, use a little diplomacy, Angel-face. Even a judge has
+    feelings. The old judge, damn his whiskers, is inclined to be
+    lenient. There’s something in the way you kids look at each other
+    that gives him a jolt. A couple of wild-eyed idiots that wants
+    anything the way you do—probably you ought to get it. I don’t know
+    whether you’ll like it after you get it—but that don’t make any
+    difference. If you want to go to Medicine Hat why it’s a deal;
+    you’re going. You’re going if the gang has to stage a massacre in
+    Wolf Point to pull the bulls off the track. Stow the side-arm, Red.
+    And shake. [_He holds out his hand._]
+
+  RED [_hesitating_]. No, I don’t like you, and I won’t shake with you.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. That’s all right. I don’t hold it against you. If I was to
+    count the number of guys that don’t like me on my fingers I’d have
+    to be a thousand-legged worm. You’re probably right, Red. I’m a
+    low-lifer and not to be trusted. But, damn it all, you’re an amusin’
+    little cuss, Red, and I kind of take to you.
+
+  EDNA. Grab the mitt, Red. He’s a good bet.
+
+  RED. Well, if you say so. Always the gentleman.
+
+  [_He puts the gun in his pocket and takes Oklahoma’s hand. Instantly
+    Oklahoma twists his wrist in an iron grip, whirls him round and
+    catches the other arm, holding Red like a vice._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You see, I got you easy. You see, Angel-face, Little Red was
+    right. I’m a low-lifer and not to be trusted. I talked you right
+    into a trap and you’re busted. I’ve got you. On the other hand,
+    speaking contrarywise, I don’t want you. I ain’t even taking your
+    gun away from you. I wouldn’t spoil your picnic for country sausage
+    and wheats, and God knows I’m hungry for breakfast. You two are
+    emigrating to Canada if I have to carry you across the dyke in a
+    basket. [_He releases Red._] Now, will you shake hands without being
+    told?
+
+  RED. Why, you double-breasted son-of-a-buck,—no.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. All right, kid.
+
+  [_Bill and Rubin enter, Rubin carrying kindling, Bill carrying lumps
+    of coal._]
+
+  BILL. You know what I found? I found a coal mine!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. A coal mine?
+
+  BILL. Right! A coal mine! Growing right out of the ground!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Why, Bill, that’s grand. That’s simply grand! I didn’t think
+    you had it in you!
+
+  RUBIN [_laying the fire in the stove_]. I tell you that’s lignite.
+
+  BILL. Well, it’s coal, ain’t it?
+
+  RUBIN. They call it coal.
+
+  BILL. It’ll burn, won’t it?
+
+  RUBIN. Some people has been able to set it on fire.
+
+  BILL. Then what’s the difference?
+
+  RUBIN. What’s the difference between a duck and a mud-hen? That’s the
+    difference.
+
+  [_Oklahoma lies down and smokes a cigarette._]
+
+  BILL. Hell, if it’ll burn I’m going to make a fire with it.
+
+  RUBIN. You are not! I’m making this fire. If you want to try lignite,
+    try smoking it. It goes out as easy as a Richmond Straight.
+
+  BILL [_putting down his coal and looking at it_]. Aw, come on, give it
+    half a chance.
+
+  RUBIN. I damn near froze meself to death giving it a chance, one
+    winter. It don’t give off any more heat than a lightning bug.
+
+  [_He lights the fire. Baldy and Hopper come in with wood._]
+
+  BALDY [_to Rubin_]. Do you know how to do that?
+
+  RUBIN. Do I know how to do it? My specialty is setting fires.
+
+  BALDY. Ah, let me at that.
+
+  RUBIN. What the hell do you know about it?
+
+  BALDY [_he elbows Rubin away_]. Me, I’m the cow that kicked over the
+    lantern in Chicago. That ain’t no way. When it comes to starting
+    fires I’m the San Francisco earthquake. See that? [_He sets about
+    mixing water and flour in a basin._]
+
+  BILL. What’s that going to be?
+
+  BALDY. How do I know till I get it made?
+
+  BILL. Well, you might have some idea.
+
+  BALDY. Look at the menu. Maybe it’s waffles. [_He beats the mixture
+    vigorously with an iron spoon._]
+
+  BILL [_eyeing the operation_]. You know, I don’t think that’s going to
+    be much good.
+
+  BALDY. Well, for God’s sake! Who do you think I’m making it for—you?
+    You’re going to be lucky if you get any of this.
+
+  BILL. Yeah?
+
+  BALDY. What did you ever do to earn your breakfast anyway?
+
+  BILL. I got a half ton of coal here to sell, if anybody wants it. I
+    lugged it all the way from the river bottom, too.
+
+  BALDY. Well, you can take it right back again now. I don’t want this
+    here kitchen floor looking like a coal bin.
+
+  BILL. God, but you’re getting domestic.
+
+  [_Baldy pours batter on the griddle._]
+
+  RUBIN. Gee, that looks queer to me.
+
+  HOPPER. Looks kinda stringy, Baldy, and kinda lumpy. Maybe you better
+    beat it some more.
+
+  BALDY. Say, are you cooking this breakfast, or am I doing it?
+
+  HOPPER. I don’t know whether it’s breakfast or not, and I don’t know
+    whether it’s cooking, but whatever’s being done, you’re doing it. I
+    don’t want to be responsible.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Come to think of it, in the best circles they ain’t really
+    eating breakfast since the war. Somehow, when I look at that there
+    that Baldy’s playing with, I ain’t got any appetite.
+
+  [_The Snake comes in, sits, and watches Baldy silently._]
+
+  RUBIN. Honest to God, now, Baldy, what is it you’re making, if any?
+
+  BILL. Ah, Baldy’s doing fine. If he had some ham now he could make
+    some damn good ham and eggs, if he had some eggs.
+
+  BALDY. That’s a new one, that is. You plucked that one fresh right out
+    of the Garden of Eden.
+
+  RUBIN. On the level, what d’you call it? Not that I give a damn.
+
+  BALDY. If you really want to know, it’s drop cakes.
+
+  BILL. I don’t like the name.
+
+  BALDY. No, you wouldn’t.
+
+  BILL. No, it reminds me of something.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. What’s the theory of ’em, Baldy?
+
+  BALDY. Well, the theory is, you beat ’em till you get air in ’em, see;
+    and then you don’t need anything to rise ’em.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Oh yeah, well, maybe you didn’t beat ’em enough.
+
+  BILL. Maybe you beat ’em too much. You prob’ly knocked the wind out of
+    ’em.
+
+  RUBIN [_tastes batter and spits it out_]. Did you ever make any of
+    them before, or is this a first attempt?
+
+  BALDY. Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t.... I used to be cookie in a
+    circus. Yah, I used to cook for the lions. I seen a guy make ’em
+    once.
+
+  BILL. Did he have any success, or did it look the way that does.
+
+  BALDY. Yeah, he had success, and it looked the way that does.
+
+  RUBIN. Did the lions eat any of it.
+
+  BALDY. Yeah, and it was damn good, too.
+
+  BILL. How many of ’em recovered? [_Baldy tries to turn a cake with a
+    spoon and has trouble._] Hey, that ain’t ready yet! That ain’t
+    ready!
+
+  HOPPER. I’ll bet you never greased the pan!
+
+  BALDY. Ah—what was I going to grease it with?
+
+  HOPPER. If you haven’t any grease you have to get the pan hot, and
+    then nothing’ll stick to it!
+
+  BALDY [_finally turning the cake with a flourish_]. Look at that! I
+    guess I got it hot enough. Who wants the first stack of wheats?
+
+  [_A grim silence._]
+
+  RUBIN. I got a weak stomach.
+
+  BILL. You got a weak stomach too? I’m on a diet.
+
+  RUBIN. My doctor says to me—“you can eat anything but drop cakes,” he
+    says. “Now you remember that,” he says. “One more drop cake is going
+    to kill you.” Imagine! And me passionately fond of drop cakes.
+
+  BALDY. I’m going to drop a cake of something on you that’ll kill you,
+    in just about a minute.
+
+  RUBIN. Don’t you hit me with any of them!
+
+  BALDY. You think I’d waste any on you, inside or out, you cheap
+    wise-cracker? These is for gentlemen. [_He places a cake on a
+    pie-pan and sets it in the middle of the floor._] This here’s for
+    Oklahoma. [_He sets out another cake on another plate._] And this is
+    for Arkansas. Come on, Snake. When you finish that there’s more
+    coming. Come on, yegger. The chow’s on the table.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Women and children first. Give mine to Red and his angel.
+
+  BALDY. Naw, it’s for you.
+
+  EDNA. Oh, we can wait, Oklahoma.
+
+  BILL. In fact, they’d almost prefer to wait.
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_seating himself near his plate_]. All right, come on,
+    Snake. The chef’s a friend of yours. You got to stick by your
+    friends.
+
+  SNAKE. All right.
+
+  [_He sits near his cake. Each takes out a jackknife, opens it, cuts
+    off a bite and tastes deliberately._]
+
+  RUBIN. How is it?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Say, you boys ought to get in on this. It’s an experience.
+
+  BILL. What’s it like?
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_with a wry face_]. God, there’s no describing it. You got
+    to eat it to believe it.—Snake, you and me has had hard words before
+    now. I don’t know as we ever agreed about anything before. But
+    something tells me that we got something in common from now on. Am I
+    right?
+
+  SNAKE. I’ll bet I don’t like ’em as much as you do.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. By God, I don’t know. I don’t like ’em much.
+
+  BALDY. What’s the matter with ’em?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. They’re all right, Baldy; they’re damn good, you know; only
+    they’d be even better if they was cooked.
+
+  BALDY. Ain’t they cooked? Sure they’re cooked.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. They’re hot, all right, and of course cakes is good hot, but
+    I do like ’em to be cooked, too.
+
+  BALDY. Hell. I can cook ’em some more. [_He lifts the cakes from the
+    floor and puts them back on the pan._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA [_sighing as he rises_]. There! A man always feels better
+    after a good meal. [_He glimpses someone out the door._] Who’s that?
+
+  BILL [_looking out_]. It’s Mose.
+
+  RUBIN. Now how in hell did he get here?
+
+  HOPPER. Right at present he’s walking.
+
+  [_Oklahoma goes to the door and calls._]
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Heigh!
+
+  MOSE [_outside_]. Heigh! White man! [_He enters._] Yes, sir; I done
+    found you at last!
+
+  BILL. Where you been?
+
+  MOSE. Gettysburg and other burgs, white boy. Ah been huntin’ you all
+    since daylight.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. What’s the trouble?
+
+  MOSE. Where does you all think you is?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. We figured we’re in the middle of nowhere.
+
+  MOSE. Well, you ain’t. You’re just three miles from Gettysburg,
+    Montana, counting telephone poles, an’ it ain’t far ‘nough. When we
+    rolls into the yards last night, I sneaks up to the railway station
+    to find out what’s going on. And there was suah plenty goin’ on.
+    There was the sheriff with a telegram in his hand, swearin’ in
+    deputies by the wagon-load and holdin’ a session with the
+    train-crew. He says so’s ev’body could heah him they was goin’ to
+    staht down the railroad track as soon as it was bright enough to
+    see, and foller yo’ trail in the mud and get yo’ asleep. Ah has just
+    barely beat him heah, becaise there’s two posses closin’ in on you,
+    the fust one comin’ from town and the second one comin’ from the
+    riber. If you’all wants to get away you better make a break no’th up
+    the coulee, and you better do it fast. That’s all. Ah’s goin’.
+
+  [_He turns to the door. Oklahoma blocks his way._]
+
+  BILL [_jumping up_]. Jesus!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Wait a minute. We got to do this right or nobody’ll get
+    away.
+
+  MOSE. Boss, Ah don’t want to get in on no trouble.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Sorry, Mose, you’ll have to wait a sec.
+
+  BILL [_as the whole gang gets ready to go_]. Where’s my goddam hat?
+
+  BALDY. You won’t need any hat where _you’re_ going.
+
+  BILL. Hell, where is that hat? Has somebody got my hat?
+
+  RUBIN. Your hat? You got it on, you poor nut!
+
+  BALDY [_to Oklahoma_]. Gangway there!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Not so fast.
+
+  SNAKE. Step out of the way, will you?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Nope. You boys’ll have to wait a minute. I got something to
+    tell you.
+
+  HOPPER. Make it snappy, then. I got a lame leg and I can’t run fast.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Well, you can listen fast. Now, look here; if we make a
+    break in a bunch we’re almost sure to get picked up. They’ll spot us
+    sure as hell—and then what happens? Why, little Red and Edna get the
+    hemp and the rest of us get thirty days for being in bad company.
+    There’s only one thing to do. We let little Red and Edna slip away
+    up the coulee and we stay here and parley the posse. If we do it
+    right we can hold ’em long enough to give the kids a handy start.
+    And we won’t get any more time’n we’ll get anyway if we stampede
+    across the prairie.
+
+  BALDY. Get out of the door!
+
+  SNAKE. Stand away from there!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You heard what I said?
+
+  SNAKE. Stand away from there!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. You’re used to having your own way, ain’t you, Snake? Up to
+    the time you met me you was completely spoiled. And since you met me
+    you never do get your own way. It’s hard on you, and you’ve got my
+    sympathy. But don’t talk so loud. [_Snake rushes Oklahoma and is
+    knocked back into the room. Baldy follows, meets the same reception,
+    and falls athwart the Snake._] Mickey, beat it. Come on, Angel-face.
+
+  [_Red and Edna go toward the door._]
+
+  RUBIN. Go straight north and you’ll hit Ardoch! Take the local!
+
+  RED. Fine!
+
+  OKLAHOMA. If you have to buy tickets, here. [_He hands his roll to
+    Red._]
+
+  RED [_taking it_]. You’re the God-damnedest old—
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Shut up and get out. [_He keeps his eye on the hoboes._]
+
+  EDNA [_kissing Oklahoma_]. Good-bye, old timer.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Good-bye. [_Red and Edna go. Mose crawls behind the stove._]
+    What you doing in there?
+
+  MOSE [_Looking out_]. Ah’m just trying to get warm.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Now, here’s the rest of the story. We’ve got to cook up
+    something to tell the bulls so we’ll all give it to ’em the same
+    way. This is how I figure it out. If they don’t know Angel-face was
+    with us we won’t tell ’em. And nobody knows who kicked the dick off
+    the train, see? That was just an unhappy accident, that’s all. The
+    poor guy lost his balance and fell. And no matter what they say
+    nobody here knows anything about the row at Williston, get that?
+    That must of been another gang. And if we can do it we’ll make ’em
+    think we never saw Red or Edna, either. Bill, look out the window
+    and see if Red’s out of sight.
+
+  BILL [_looking out_]. They just went behind the willows.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Then they won’t see them, that’s sure. There’s only one
+    thing wrong with the dope. They know the kids was on that train and
+    they won’t quit hunting till they get ’em. Now if there was only
+    somebody here that looked like a frail he could play Angel-face and
+    that’d certainly gain time.
+
+  RUBIN. Maybe I could do it.
+
+  BILL. You need a shave too bad.
+
+  RUBIN. Baldy, he ought to be able to do it.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Or if there was only another little red-headed guy.... [_He
+    looks out the door._] They’re coming, ’Boes; lie around and look
+    natural. There’s fifty of them.
+
+  [_Deputies appear at windows, crashing in glass, and then the sheriff
+    appears in the doorway._]
+
+  SHERIFF. Hullo.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Yes, sir. Quite so.
+
+  SHERIFF [_to those behind him_]. We’ve got ’em trapped, boys. [_A
+    couple of men appear in the doorway with guns._] The gang’s covered.
+    Put up your hands. [_The hoboes lift their hands. The Sheriff
+    enters._] Get up and line up here. [_They all get up and stand in
+    line except Mose._] Search ’em. [_A deputy enters and slaps their
+    pockets, finding no weapons._]
+
+  DEPUTY. They’re harmless, chief.
+
+  SHERIFF. Lower your hands, but stand still. Where you from? [_There is
+    a silence._] Well, speak up.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. We’re from everywhere, chief.
+
+  SHERIFF. Who are you?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Me? I’m a decayed mining engineer, out of work.
+
+  SHERIFF. A mining engineer? I’ll bet you mined gold out of little iron
+    boxes when you was working.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Now, chief, is that fair? You’re pinning a rep on me without
+    no evidence.
+
+  SHERIFF. I don’t need evidence when I see a face like that.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Yeah, I often used to say that myself.
+
+  SHERIFF. You did?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Yeah, I used to be a judge.
+
+  SHERIFF. Yes, I daresay. Well, now, I’ll tell you who we’re looking
+    for, and if you can help us out you’d better do it. We’re looking
+    for a little red-head and a girl that beat it out of Williston last
+    night on the freight. If you can tell us where they are we don’t
+    want this bunch. You can get the hell out of here, the faster the
+    better for you. If you can’t help us out why you’re going to Wolf
+    Point and enjoy our hospitality till we find out all about that
+    little affair back in Williston.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. What happened at Williston?
+
+  SHERIFF. Just a nice little murder. They found a farmer sitting at the
+    lunch table with three bullets in him.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Now who do you suppose would do a thing like that?
+
+  SHERIFF. The girl did the shooting—and she was on the freight last
+    night. Who saw her?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Hell, we came in the other way, chief. We’re all going east.
+    We ain’t seen no girl.
+
+  1ST DEPUTY [_stepping in_]. Like hell they was going the other way!
+    Chief, our squad traced this gang in the mud all the way from the
+    river where they got kicked off.
+
+  SHERIFF. Yeah? What did you want to lie to me for?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. I don’t want to get mixed up in no murder.
+
+  SHERIFF. Hold your jaw for a while. I’ll get back to you later. [_To
+    Rubin._] Were you on that west-bound freight last night?
+
+  RUBIN. Yep.
+
+  SHERIFF. Was there a girl on the train? A girl travelling in pants.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Sure there was.
+
+  RUBIN. Sure there was.
+
+  SHERIFF. Where is she now?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. She fell in the Missouri and got drowned.
+
+  RUBIN. Yeah, that’s right. She fell in the Missouri and got drowned.
+
+  SHERIFF. How’d it happen?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. We was just—
+
+  SHERIFF. Drop your trap! Go on, you.
+
+  RUBIN. We was just riding along over the river, and we had the door
+    open, and she was leaning against the side looking out, and the
+    train gave a swerve, like that—you know—and she went out—that’s all.
+
+  SHERIFF. That sounds kind of phoney to me. [_to Baldy_]. Who are you?
+
+  BALDY. Ex-soldier. Honorable discharge. See that? [_Pointing to his
+    scar._]
+
+  SHERIFF. How’d you get that?
+
+  BALDY. Fighting for my country.
+
+  SHERIFF [_to Bill_]. Did you see a guy called little Red on the train?
+
+  BILL. Me? Little Red?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Sure he did.
+
+  BILL. Sure I did.
+
+  SHERIFF [_to Oklahoma_]. One more break like that, old yegger, and
+    you’re going to be breaking rock. [_To Bill._] Where’s little Red
+    now?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. He don’t need to answer that. I’ll answer that. I’m little
+    Red.
+
+  SHERIFF. You are?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Yep.
+
+  SHERIFF. You carry too much weight to answer to that alias, my friend.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Aw hell; that’s why they call me little Red. Because I ain’t
+    little.
+
+  SHERIFF. You own up to the shooting?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. No, sir. I had nothing to do with it. That was the girl’s
+    private affair.
+
+  SHERIFF. What’s the girl’s name?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. I don’t know what her last name was, but her first name was
+    Emily or Evalina, or something. Anyway she’s dead.
+
+  SHERIFF. So you’re little Red, huh?
+
+  OKLAHOMA. I said it.
+
+  SHERIFF. Boys, is that what you call him?
+
+  BILL. Yeah, he’s little Red. I wouldn’t have told you, only he told
+    you first.
+
+  SHERIFF. Fine. That makes you an accessory.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. The hell it does. I tell you—
+
+  SHERIFF. Tell that in the dock. Boys, we’ve got an accessory.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Like hell.
+
+  SHERIFF. If you want to get out of here without having your face
+    wrecked, shut up till we ask you to talk.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. That’s jake with me.
+
+  SHERIFF [_to Snake_]. You. That story about the girl falling in the
+    river. Is that straight?
+
+  SNAKE [_after a pause_]. About the girl falling in the river? Sure,
+    that’s straight.
+
+  SHERIFF. I see. All right, ’Boes. The Wolf Point county jail is next
+    on the route. Left by file. Forward....
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Just one question, chief. Is the cooking good in your jail.
+
+  SHERIFF. Couldn’t be worse. It’s terrible.
+
+  OKLAHOMA. Oh God, and I lost all my money in the river, too.
+
+  SHERIFF. Forward! March! [_The gang files out the door. The sheriff
+    lingers a moment._] Is there something scorchin’ in here? Smells
+    like it.
+
+  2ND DEPUTY. Ah, it’s their damn pancakes.
+
+  SHERIFF. Ah, let ’em scorch!
+
+  [_They go out. After a moment, Mose comes out from behind the stove,
+    his face contorted with pain and rubbing his shoulder with his hand.
+    He looks out cautiously, then comes back, muttering to himself._]
+
+  MOSE. Scorchin’! My God, Ah’m burnt to a crust!
+
+  [_He goes to the stove, takes a pancake, blows it to cool it, and sits
+    down with it. He tries it, doesn’t like it, then takes a paper
+    package from his pocket and sprinkles the pancakes with salt. Trying
+    it again, he likes it no better. He rises, looking down at the
+    thing._] Looks like food. But it ain’t.
+
+  [_A deputy appears in the door. Mose goes to the stove and picks up
+    the frying pan, looking earnestly at the contents._]
+
+  DEPUTY. Hey, you! [_Mose leaps dropping the pan._] Come on, I saw you
+    jouking around in here.
+
+  MOSE. Listen, boss; what time is it?
+
+  DEPUTY. Five o’clock.
+
+  MOSE. What time does you have breakfast in jail?
+
+  DEPUTY. Six.
+
+  MOSE. All right. You don’t need no irons. Ah’s comin’ quiet.
+
+  [_They go out._]
+
+
+                                CURTAIN
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+                          TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
+
+
+ ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+ ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77807 ***