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diff --git a/77807-0.txt b/77807-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..637b5a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/77807-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7482 @@ +*** 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 *** |