The Front Page (1974) Script

Hey, Jacobi!

Fatso.

Hold it down, will you?

People are trying to work up here.

Screw you!

No respect for the press.

You in or out?

I'm in. I'm in.

Ante up.

All right.

Why the hell don't we chip in and get some new cards?

Don't look at me, I haven't won a hand since Leopold and Lobe.

Jack bets.

A nickel. Call.

Possible straight. Possible flush.

Jack-eight, pair of sevens.

Possible shit.

Pair of sevens bet a nickel.

A nickel, a schtickel. I raise you a dime.

Gaylord Schwartz, Riverboat gambler, I raise you a dime.

It's a quarter to me, right?

I'll stick.

I'll call.

Why doesn't somebody answer the phone?

It's the Examiner phone.

Flush.

Criminal Courts, pressroom.

No, Hildy Johnson isn't here.

Queen.

Oh, hello, Mr. Burns.

No, Hildy hasn't come in yet.

Sure thing, Mr. Burns, I'll tell him the minute he shows up.

That's the third time Walter Burns has called.

Where do you suppose Hildy is?

Probably had a big night at Madame Chow's.

I hear she's got some new broads in from San Francisco.

I could go for a little of that sweet and sour pork right now.

Come on, cut the gab. Jacks bet.

I check to the Chinese gourmet.

Two bits.

Call me a sucker.

El foldo.

This place smells like the city dump.

How can you breathe in here?

Hey, Bensinger, any news on the hanging?

Did you talk to the Sheriff?

Why don't you guys get your own stories?

Who's been using my towel?

And where is my toilet paper?

How many times have I told you--

Temper. Temper.

For Christ's sake, why don't you bring your own toilet paper?

Or use those rags you work for?

Two pair, jacks high.

Read them and weep, three treys.

Beats me.

Here you are, Bensinger.

Hey, blushing pink.

Whoa, whoa.

I only used four sheets.

You better count 'em.

Bunch of goddamn gypsies.

This is Bensinger, give me a rewrite man.

Take your time. Take your time.

Oh, Marty, is that you?

"New lead on the Earl Williams hanging."

Yes, the execution is still set for 7:00 in the morning.

"The authorities are prepared for a general uprising of radicals at that time."

Murphy here. Get me rewrite.

"Extra guards have just been thrown around the jail, "the municipal building, railroad terminals, elevated stations."

Update on the Williams hanging.

Sheriff Hartman's just put 200 more relatives on the payroll to protect the city against the Red Army, which is leaving Moscow in a couple of minutes.

Bet a dime.

Now, this is what the condemned man ordered for his final meal:

Shrimp cocktail with Thousand Island dressing, rare roast beef, Brussels sprouts, apple pie a la mode, Ovaltine.

"For his last meal Williams is getting a 95-cent blue plate special from the greasy spoon across the street."

"At 9:00 tonight, Williams will be examined by still another psychologist

"Dr. Max J. Eggelhofer, at the request of the Friends of American Liberty."

Eggelhofer. Yes, he's from Vienna.

It's in my story this morning.

He wrote that book Self Abuse and Antisocial Behavior.

Poor bastard's gonna swing in the morning and this brain wants to ask if he played with himself when he was five.

Pair of bullets.

More later.

Half a buck.

Wait a minute. Don't I get a card?

Call.

Pressroom.

No, Mr. Burns, Hildy hasn't shown yet.

No, we haven't heard a word--

That dumb son-of-a-bitch bastard!

Who does he think he is?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you.

Well, look, if Hildy shows up, will you be kind enough to tell that dumb son-of-a-bitch bastard to get his ass over here?

Thank you.

Any luck?

I've tried every speakeasy, every gamblin' joint.

I've tried the Turkish bath. No Hildy.

Call the Sanitation Department, maybe they've picked him up in some gutter.

I guess I better check the hospitals or the morgue.

Be just like that clown to die on me on the eve of a hanging.

How about those headlines?

Which one do you like?

They all stink.

Trouble is, there's not much you can do with a hanging.

Now, if we had the electric chair in this state, that's something you can really sink your teeth into.

"Williams gets the hot seat!"

"Williams Fries."

"Williams Roasted Alive."

# Step right up Shake my hand #

# My baby told me that she loves me #

Mr. Johnson, I'm so glad.

Mr. Burns has been looking for you all over.

# Congratulate me, step right up #

# Shake my hand #

Hi, Hildy.

Is it a holiday or something?

Hey, look at him. Prince of Wales.

# Congratulate me I'm in love ##

Where the hell have you been?

Well, let's see. I had a haircut, I got a manicure, I did a little shoppin'.

Hi, Duffy. Yeah.

What the hell are you dressed up for?

You're not covering a polo match, you're covering a hanging.

That's what I wanted to talk to you about.

Tomorrow you and I are gonna stand this town on its ear.

Oh, yeah.

Every damn paper is gonna have the same damn story on that execution.

But we're going to scoop them all.

Because you know what goes in there?

A picture of Williams swinging by the neck.

A picture? A photograph, the first time anywhere.

Exclusive in the Examiner.

What are you talkin' about?

That's against the law. You can't bring a camera in there.

Who's gonna know?

Here, I had this specially rigged up.

You clip it to your ankle, you run the tube up your pants leg.

Make a hole in your pocket.

The minute Williams drops through that trap door you lift your pants leg and squeeze the bulb. Clever?

You sure come up with some doozies.

At 7:00, the guy kicks off, at 7:03 you're out of the jail yard, there's an ambulance waiting for you with a darkroom and a typewriter inside.

You take off with the sirens going.

While you're batting out the story, they're developing the negative.

At 7:22, the picture gets to the engraver, and we start setting up your copy.

At 7:56, we re-plate the front page.

At 8:12, the presses start rolling and at 8:47, you're out in the street with an extra. How's that?

Walter, you'll either get the Pulitzer Prize or a year in the clink.

You and me both, we're in this together.

Now, what I want is about 1,200 words.

You know, lots of atmosphere.

With the cold, gray dawn, and a voice from the death house singing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, and the body twisting slowly, slowly in the wind.

I don't have to tell you. Anything else?

Yeah. We'll need some last words from Williams as he walks up those 13 steps.

Something with a punch to it.

If necessary make 'em up yourself.

Last words? You want some last words?

I'll give you some last words. I quit.

A guy about to be hung? No.

He wouldn't say that.

Not Williams, me. I quit.

What?

I'm resigning. Effective immediately.

It's the Tribune, right?

They've been trying to steal you for years.

I won't work for the Tribune...

Damn right. Nobody walks out on Walter Burns.

...or any newspaper. Walter, I'm getting married.

Getting married? What the hell for?

You've already been married.

Some marriage that was. I never even got to Niagara Falls

'cause you made me get off the train to cover the torch murder.

That's what makes you a first-class reporter.

You're always in the right place at the right time.

But never at home, Walter.

Not for Christmas, not for our anniversary.

When she was sick in the hospital and nearly died, I was stuck in Tennessee covering that goddamn Monkey Trial.

It's not gonna happen again, Walter. Not this time.

Okay, Hildy. You want to take the plunge again, all right.

Tell you what we do.

First you cover the hanging, then you can get married.

Take the whole weekend off.

Don't come into the office till Monday.

Monday I'll be in Philadelphia.

Philadelphia? We're taking the midnight train, tomorrow afternoon we get married with her family and everything and everybody.

Monday I start working for her uncle in the advertising business.

The advertising business?

You heard me. I'm goin' straight. I'm quittin' this racket.

You mean you're going to be writing crap like, "I'd walk a mile for a Camel" or "Quick, Henry, the Flit"?

You bet. For $150 a week.

Jesus, Hildy. You're a newspaperman, not some faggot writing poetry about brassieres and laxatives.

It's all set. We got 300 extra newsboys for tomorrow morning.

St. Paul's Parochial School is gonna be playin' hooky.

We'll cover Chicago like a blizzard.

Goodbye, Duffy. Watch the diabetes.

Walter, it's been fun.

What does he mean by that?

He's leavin' us. Gettin' married.

Yeah?

That hostess at the Hotsy Totsy Club?

You're not even close.

This is a very classy dame.

Philadelphia. Studied to be a concert pianist.

Where the hell would you meet a concert pianist?

Well, actually, she's a widow.

Husband cracked up in a brand-new Packard.

Only had 18 miles on it. So, to support herself she's playing the organ at the Balaban & Katz Theatre.

The one in the Loop?

Yeah. We've been dating three months.

Jeez, why didn't you tell me?

I would've thrown you a little farewell party.

Oh, no, no. I know your farewell parties.

When Ben Hecht was leaving for Hollywood, you slipped a Mickey in his gin fizz.

It took four of us to get him on the California Limited.

Well, look at him now. Sitting under those goddamn palm trees, writing dialogue for Rin Tin Tin.

What's the matter with you guys?

You're traitors, all of you.

If it isn't Hollywood, it's Broadway or Paris.

Write the great American novel.

Be Scott Fitzgerald. Christ!

And now, you're gonna sell out.

The last real newspaperman I got on this sheet.

Don't give me that Vaseline, Jocko.

When you did that interview with Earl Williams in the death house, our circulation went up 75,000.

It's been your story right from the beginning.

You can't run out now.

Can't I? Watch me.

Because, hot or cold, rain or shine, I'm gonna be on the midnight train to Philadelphia.

Okay, you ungrateful son of a bitch.

I picked you up when you were a nothing, covering Polack weddings on the South side.

I taught you everything I knew.

And now when I need you, you stab me in the back.

Well, I can take the greenest cub out there and turn him into a better reporter than you ever were.

Fix him another Bromo.

Get out of here, you lousy, double-crossing heel.

Well, as long as there's no hard feelings.

You really gonna let him go?

In a pig's eye.

Marrying some dame that plays the organ from Philadelphia, for Christ's sake.

# Button up your overcoat #

# When the wind is free #

# Take good care of yourself #

# You belong to me #

# Eat an apple every day #

# Get to bed by 03:00 #

# Take good care of yourself #

# You belong to me! #

# Be careful crossing streets #

# Ooh, ooh, don't eat meats #

# Ooh, ooh, cut out sweets #

# Ooh, ooh, you'll get a pain and ruin your tum-tum #

# Keep away from bootleg hootch #

# when you're on a spree #

# Take good care of yourself #

# You belong to me! ##


On his return from the South Pole, Cdr. Richard E. Byrd gets a tumultuous welcome in New York Harbor.

Party boss Joseph Stalin reviews Russia's military might marching past Lenin's tomb in Red Square.


Miss Grant?

Yes?

Can I have a word with you?

My name is Fishbein, Otto Fishbein.

Oh, if you're a booking agent, don't bother.

I am getting out of show business.

Well, nothing like that.

I'm a probation officer.

Probation officer?

What's this all about?

Well, it's come to our attention that you're planning to marry one Hildebrand Johnson also known as Hildy Johnson.

So?

Well, that's okay. But we understand you're planning to move to Philadelphia.

Is there anything wrong with that?

Plenty. He can't leave Chicago.

He has to report to us every week.

Why?

Because he's on probation.

For what?

You mean he didn't tell you?

Well, I can hardly blame him.

What are you talking about?

Now don't get panicky.

He's not really a criminal, he's just sick.

Sick?

Well, not all the time.

But every so often he gets this crazy urge.

Mr. Fishbein, I'm not a naive young thing.

I've been married before.

Now, just what did Hildy do?

As long as he was doing it in dark alleys and deserted parks, well, we in the department have some compassion.

But this last time, it happened in broad daylight in the Chicago Art Institute.

For God's sake, what happened?

Well, there were those 16 high-school girls on a tour and there he was at the top of the staircase wearing a raincoat, and it wasn't even raining.

Is that some sort of a crime?

You know what he was wearing underneath? Shoes and socks.

And? That's it.

We get those exhibitionists all the time. "Hey, lady, look!"

I-- I don't believe it.

We got a file on him this thick.

Poor Hildy.

Poor Hildy.

He'd be in jail right now, if it weren't for that editor of his, that Walter something.

Walter Burns?

That's it.

Pulled a lot of strings with the state's attorney and the judge.

That's what I call a real friend.

That'll be Hildy.

What can I say to him?

Save your breath.

He'll just deny everything, anyway.

If I were you,I'd go back to Philadelphia and forget all about him.

And not even say goodbye?

Hello?

Hi, baby.

This is your dream lover, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

I just thought I'd check in.

Boy, have I had a busy afternoon.

Where were you? At the Art Museum?

Art Museum? What Art Museum?

I went to the office and told Walter Burns he could take his job and...

Then I picked up the rings, the train tickets, and I've almost finished packin'.

Did you remember to pack your raincoat?

Well, who packs a raincoat?

I'm gonna carry it over my arm, just in case.

Just in case?

Oh, Hildy, You don't need a wife, you need a doctor.

Look, I feel very sorry for you, but I just couldn't live with that kind of a problem.

That's tellin' him. Now, just hang up.

Uh, honey, w-w-what's the matter?

I-- I don't understand you. What have I done?

Your probation officer is right here with me.

Probation officer? I don't know any probation...

He said what?

Me? Oh, now wait a minute, honey. Well...

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

What does this guy look like?

Never mind. I'll describe him to you.

About 6'3", huge feet, mean little eyes, and a nose like a pickle. Right?

You want to know who that is?

Honey, you're not gonna believe this.

Walter Burns, that conniving son of a...

Well, I better be running along now.

I have a couple of other cases to look into.

Uh, just a minute.

Hildy would like to speak to you.

Not now. I have to check up on the candy man.

We call him that because he hangs around schoolyards.

Here.

Hello. Fishbein speaking.

Fishbein, huh? Listen, you lousy baboon.

You better start wearing cast-iron shorts because the next time I see you, I'm gonna bury my shoe up your ass.

Come on, Hildy. You used to be able to take a joke before you went into the advertising business.

Of all of the lowdown, stinking...

You'd wreck my marriage just to keep me on that crummy paper of yours?

Hildy, all I'm asking is that you postpone it for 24 hours.

Just cover this hanging for me.

Mr. Burns, I wouldn't cover the last supper for you if they held it in the pump room of the Ambassador East.

Now, you get the hell off the phone and let me speak to my girl.

All right. All right. The flasher wants to talk to you.

That was a rotten thing to do.

It was for your own good, believe me.

Marry an undertaker, marry a blackjack dealer, marry a pickpocket, but never marry a newspaperman.

That's why I'm making him quit.

You can't make a leopard change its spots, or hitch a fire horse to a milk wagon.

He'll be like a fish out of water.

We'll take our chances. Now, if you don't mind.

Just a friendly warning. That's my wedding present to you.

Darling, I'm sorry. I should've known better, but he just sounded so convincing.

I finish my last show at 9:15. Will you pick me up?

Tell Hildy I wish him all the luck in the world and I mean it or my name isn't Otto Fishbein.

A dime.

Make it two bits.

I'm shy a quarter.

Too rich for me.

Can I clean up in here?

Yes.

No!

Queen.

Ace.

Hey, listen. I'm the big loser here.

Somebody must be winning.

Crack it for a dime.

By me.

I'm in.

A deuce, I can't read it.

Pair of fours.

Pair of kings, bets a quarter.

Oh, I'm out.

Good evening.

That's your light.

Give me a card.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Sorry to interrupt, but which is the Examiner desk?

The what?

This is the pressroom, isn't it?

So?

I'm Rudy Keppler.

I'm here to cover the execution for the Examiner.

The Examiner? How come?

What happened to Hildy?

Mr. Johnson is no longer with the paper.

What do you mean?

He resigned. Is this my place?

Resigned?

You're joking.

From what I heard, he's getting married and moving to Philadelphia.

Come on, not Hildy.

I thought he was married to Walter Burns.

He'll never give him a divorce.

This place won't be the same without Hildy.

Well, I would hope so.

I've always found him rowdy, ill-mannered, and irresponsible.

But a hell of a reporter.

No contest.

That's why I'm so nervous.

Following in his footsteps.

Being here with all of you old pros.

Hey, I'll bet you went to college.

School of Journalism?

How'd you guess?

University of Wisconsin, Class of '27.

Oh, that was a good year.

We could sure use some new blood around here.

That's for sure.

Hey, you play poker?

Cribbage is my game.

And a little auction bridge.

Don't worry. We'll break you in.

That's very kind of you. But right now, is there any paper around here?

Hey, Bensinger, why don't you give him some of that pink stuff?

I think you're all being perfectly beastly to this nice young man.

I've been lookin' for you bums.

Hello, sweetheart.

Well, if it isn't Miss Mollie Malloy.

Nooky-nooky.

How's the old tomato can?

Go on, laugh, damn you.

Hey, Mollie, those were pretty roses you sent Earl Williams.

What do you want done with them when he checks out?

He left a 7:00 a.m. call.

Bunch of wisenheimers, ain't you?

Well, you know what I think of you.

You gonna pay a call on your boyfriend?

He's right across the courtyard, Mollie.

I'm sure he'd rather spend his last night with you than with the chaplain.

If you was worth breaking my fingernails on, I'd tear your puss wide open.

Would someone mind introducing me to the lady?

Lady? Huh. Just get a whiff of that perfume, Fleur de Floozy.

Bastards. All of you.

What are you sore about, huh?

Wasn't that a swell write-up we gave you?

I never said I loved Earl Williams and was willing to marry him on the gallows.

You made that up.

Come on, you've been sucking around that cuckoo ever since he's been in the death house.

Everybody knows you're his soul mate.

That's a lot of bunk.

Like all that other stuff you been writin'.

Calling me an Angel of the Pavement, a Midnight Madonna. Who're you kidding?

I'm a $2 whore from Division Street, and you know it.

That's right. She shouldn't be allowed in here.

And that love nest you had with Williams?

That's a lie. He never even laid a hand on me.

You had that red in your bed for three days and nights.

Did he have that kind of money?

Or did you make him a special price?

The poor guy didn't have enough for a cup of coffee.

He used to hang around Division Street every night, handin' out leaflets.

Tellin' us how we were being exploited by capitalism and that we should organize.

So the pimps came around and beat him up.

And there he was, lyin' on the sidewalk, bleedin'.

With his glasses broken.

So I took him up to my place, like any human being would.

That was a very charitable thing to do.

Yeah. Meet Florence Nightingale.

Sure, I took care of him. And for three days and three nights he just talked to me.

Treated me decent. Not like an animal.

Now, you guys are trying to make a fool out of me.

Why didn't you adopt him instead of letting him run around shooting policemen?

I told him to stay away from that corner.

When they sent a cop to chase him away, he said it was his constitutional right.

So the cop pulled a gun on him and he panicked.

He just grabbed for the gun and it went off.

He didn't mean to kill him.

Aw, put it on a Victrola record.

Suppose that cop had been your own brother?

I wish to God it had been one of you, you lousy punks.

What's that?

Just testing.

Testing what?

They're fixing up a pain in the neck for your boyfriend.

Maybe we ought to put a little talcum on the noose, make it slide easier.

Oh, my God!

You gonna claim the body, Mollie?

Or scatter his ashes over Division Street?

I suppose all the hookers will go into mourning.

Yeah, wear black underwear.

Shame on you. Shame.

A poor little crazy fellow's sitting there alone with the Angel of Death beside him and you crackin' jokes.

It's a wonder a bolt of lightning don't come through the ceiling and strike you all dead.

That's enough of that. Just go cry somewhere else.

Yeah, Mollie, get your keister out of here.

This is the pressroom.

I'm $4 behind.

Come on, let's go. Let go of me.

Shut up! Come on.

Hey, lady, I'm on your side.

You liars.

Beat it, you tramp.

You hoodlums.

Gentlemen of the press?

Hey, Mollie, what do you know? What do you say?

Oh, get lost. You're like all the rest of them bums.

# Is that a break now Am I awake now? #

# or am I dreaming? ##

Jennie, old girl, did anybody ever tell you you've got a terrific behind?

Not lately.

Well, a thing of beauty is a joy forever.

Cut the blarney, Mr. Johnson. What do you want now?

I could use some ice, some club soda, maybe a couple of bottles of ginger ale.

Coming up. Right.

King, seven, five, three, seven, nine, six, five, and a 10. Bet the king.

All right, you guys, on your feet and reach for the ceiling.

This joint's raided, see?

Hey, Hildy.

What's all this we hear? Is it on the level?

You really quitting? Get a load of that outfit.

What the well-dressed bridegroom will wear.

Nobody moves to Philadelphia for Christ's sake! Say it isn't so, Hildy.

It's all true, fellows.

Two tickets to Philly, and two wedding hoops. 18 carats.

You're looking at Hildebrand Johnson, Esq., care of Waterbury and Adams, Advertising and Public Relations, Philadelphia, PA.

No shit.

Nobody but fairies goes into advertising.

Sour grapes.

How did Burns take the news?

That conniving son...

You know what he tried... Ah, the hell with it.

Get some paper cups.

Hey, look at the hooch. It's the real stuff.

Just my farewell to the troops.

Hildy, baby, when you go, you go first class.

It's worth it. I'll never have to look at your ugly mugs again.

Let's get rid of some of this crap.

Yeah. It's about time.

Mr. Johnson? Huh?

You probably don't remember me, but we once met in the men's room.

The men's room? Where?

At the Examiner.

I'm Rudy Keppler, Mr. Duffy sent me to take over for you.

Is that so? And what were you doing before this?

Oh, a little bit of everything. Social notes, book reviews, covered a couple of fires.

But this is my first hanging.

Yeah. It's okay, kid.

It's Williams' first hanging, too.

I snitched the ice from the morgue.

Over here.

What will you have, Jennie?

Uh, maybe a little straight gin.

Careful. You're getting the cards wet.

It's about time somebody washed them.

I could go for some ginger ale.

Hey, slick, join us.

Rock & Rye, please.

Here you are, kid.

Well, Hildy, here's to you.

You lucky bastard.

Godspeed, Hildy.

And may the wind at your back never be your own.

All right. Ahem.

You sentimental slobs, before everybody gets falling down drunk, I got a few markers here.

McHugh, you owe me $5.

I'll give it to you tomorrow.

I won't be here. I'll send it to you.

I'll bet it gets lost in the mail.

No bet.

Schwartz, $6.75. For what?

For being a lousy poker player. That's for what's.

Hildy, about that $30. You'll have to wait, it wasn't just my kid taking sick, my old lady isn't--

What $30? Forget it.

I might've known I couldn't collect from you deadbeats, anyway.

Big time Charlie, huh?

How much they payin' you?

Oh, you wouldn't want to know.

It'd just make you green with envy.

Are you gonna have one of those offices with a rug on the floor, and the stenographer on your lap?

Oh, my wife won't go for that.

Bet you get Saturdays and Sundays off.

And Christmas.

You're gonna join the Country Club, golf and Mah Jongg, silk pajamas with a monogram right across your chest...

Hold it. Now, look who's talking. Journalists.

Bunch of crazy buttinskies with dandruff on their shoulders and holes in their pants.

Peeking through keyholes, waking people up in the middle of the night to ask them what they think about Aimee Semple McPherson.

Stealing pictures off old ladies of their daughters that get raped in Oak Park.

And for what? So a million shop girls and motormen's wives can get their jollies.

And the next day, somebody wraps the front page around a dead mackerel.

Don't knock it, Hildy.

How long do you think you'll last on that fancy job?

Yeah, six months from now you may be out on your ass.

Never happen. You know why? Because, my girl's uncle, he owns that advertising agency. Now, tie that.

What do you know?

Our Hildy going into the nephew business.

A gigolo.

Where's your pride, your integrity?

What's the newspaper business ever done for me?

See, I don't want to end up like you guys will, on a copy desk.

Gray-haired, humpbacked, half blind, bummin' cigarettes from office boys.

I think I'll have a little more gin.

Uh, what's the idea, fellas?

You know better than that. This is a government building.

Ah, hi, Sheriff.

What'll you have?

I've got a good mind to have you all locked up.

The state's attorney wouldn't like it because I bought that stuff from his brother.

If you gentlemen need more ice...

Here are your tickets for the hanging.

Tribune. Journal of Commerce.

Post.

Only two?

I promised a couple of the guys in the Circulation Department.

What do you think we're putting on here, the World Series?

Daily News. Examiner.

Here you are, Rudy. The new man.

Oh, what happened? They finally fire you?

I'm retiring to my country estate outside Philadelphia.

Well, in that case I will have a drink.

No, you won't. Not my liquor.

What should I do with the second ticket?

Sell it to a scalper like the Sheriff does.

I've had it with you, Johnson.

When I think of all that malarkey you and Walter Burns printed about me, full of hearsay, innuendo, and character assassination--

What do you mean? Don't we always refer to you as "Honest" Pete Hartman?

Oh, yeah. And what about those things you always put around "Honest"?

Journal.

Why can't you move the hanging from 7:00 to 5:00 so we can make the city edition?

Oh, come on, Murph. You can't hang a fella in his sleep just to please the newspapers.

It ain't nice. No.

But you can reprieve him twice, so that the hanging comes just before the election. Huh?

With you and the Mayor running on a law and order ticket.

That is nice.

I had nothin' to do with it. That was the Governor.

What if there's another reprieve?

No chance.

Suppose this Dr. Eggelhofer finds out Williams is insane?

Come on, boys, you know that's just a formality to shut up those pinko troublemakers.

He's gonna examine him in my office in a few minutes.

But I can tell you right now, Williams is as sane as I am.

Saner.

Oh, c-come on, fellas.

He shot that cop as part of a Bolshevik-anarchist conspiracy to subvert our democratic institution.

Baloney.

Williams isn't a Red and you know it.

He's just a screwball who had the lousy luck to shoot a colored cop in an election year.

Now I want you fellas to tell it loud and clear that the death warrant for Earl Williams is a death warrant for all the radical elements in this town.

Not again, Pete.

I say reform the Reds with a rope.

Can I quote you on that, Sheriff?

Certainly, my boy.

Sheriff Hartman pledges to reform the Reds with a rope.

That's worth a good 600,000 votes.

Plus a couple of 100,000 colored votes, so when that baby drops through the trap, you guys are a shoo-in.

Are you implying that the Mayor and I are playing politics with a man's life?

Oh, am I glad to get out of this friggin' town.

That cuts both ways, Johnson. Both ways.

American. City Press.

See you around, fellas.

Goodbye, Sheriff. Gonna miss you. "Honest."

Well, chums, I got to pick up my girl.

We're gonna have dinner before we get on that train.

Let's have one for the road.

Mr. Johnson.

If you have any advice to give me...

Sure, kid.

Never end a sentence with a preposition, never draw to an inside straight, and never, never get caught in the can with Bensinger.

So long, Hildy.

Take care of yourself.

Drop us a postcard, you stewbum.

Any of you ever get to Philadelphia, for Christ's sake, don't look me up because from now on I'm not associating with riffraff.

Cheers!

# Not a soul down on the corner #

# That's a pretty certain sign #

# That wedding bells are breaking up #

# That old gang of mine #

# All the boys are singing love songs #

# They forgot sweet Adeline #

# Those wedding bells are breaking up #

# That old gang of mine ##

Could you help me again, please?

I just can't seem to shake this cold.

Yeah, summer colds. They're the worst.

All right, unlock the handcuffs.

Was your dinner okay?

It was fine, but they forgot the ketchup.

That's just too bad. In here.

Earl, this is Dr. Eggelhofer.

He's going to examine you.

Oh, oh, hi, Doc.

Good evening, sir. Sit down, please.

You gonna stick some pins into me and hit my knees with a hammer?

That is very old-fashioned.

I'm merely going to ask you a few questions.

Oh, thank you.

Now, Mr. Williams, are you aware of what's going to happen to you tomorrow?

They're gonna hang me.

And how do you feel about that?

Well, to tell the truth, I'll be glad to get out of that cell. It's so drafty.

See? I told you. He's 100 percent sane.

It says here that you are, by profession, a baker.

That's right. I'm-- I'm a specialty baker.

You know, uh, pretzels and breadsticks and bagels.

You know, I worked for the same place for five years, and then one day they just fired me.

What was the reason?

'Cause I put those things in the fortune cookies.

What things?

Free Sacco and Vanzetti.

Pretty sneaky, those Bolsheviks.

Who's a Bolshevik?

According to this, you were arrested in 1925 for illegal possession of explosives.

Oh, yes. Well, I don't know how you feel about Wall Street, Doctor, but I mailed this shoebox to JPMorgan with a time bomb in it.

And it came back because of insufficient postage.

Blew the whole roof off my boarding house.

We should send them all back where they came from.

I come from Fargo, North Dakota.

Tell me, Mr. Williams, were you unhappy as a child?

Not really.

I had a perfectly normal childhood.

I see. You wanted to kill your father and sleep with your mother.

If he's gonna talk dirty--

When you were in grammar school, did you practice self-abuse?

No, sir. I don't believe in it.

I would never abuse myself or anybody else.

I love people, I love all people.

I suppose that cop committed suicide.

Let us get back to masturbation.

Did your father ever catch you in the act?

Oh, my father was-- was never home.

He was a conductor on the Chicago-Northwestern.

Very significant.

Your father wore a uniform just like that policeman.

And when he pulled out the gun, an obvious phallic symbol, you thought he was your father and was going to use it to hurt your mother.

He's crazy.

Let us then try to reconstruct your thought process at the time of the crime.

May I borrow your gun, please?

Oh, sure thing.

Get up, Mr. Williams.

All right, you are standing on that corner with those leaflets, I am the policeman. I come up to you and tell you to move along.

You refuse, I draw my gun.

Now, I want you to tell me exactly what you thought and show me exactly what you did.

Exactly?

# Gee, I get that lonesome feeling #

# When I hear those church bells chime #

# Those wedding bells are breaking up ##

What the hell is that?

Maybe somebody else is throwing a party.

Must be a riot or a jailbreak.

Hey, Jacobi, what's the matter?

What's going on down there?

Somebody get away?

Who was it?

Hey fatso, what happened?

Go screw! All right, spread out, you guys.

Watch the gate.

Somebody cover the west wall.

And the rest of you, follow me.

Get away from those windows.

What's the excitement?

Earl Williams escaped.

Williams?

Jesus!

Earl Williams just busted out of the County jail.

Got clean away. Cops all over the place.

Lots of shooting.

Don't know if it's from Williams or at Williams.

No, I don't know how it happened.

Careful, you roughnecks.

Watch where you're shooting.

Stand by. Call you later.

You bet. The minute I get anything.

Hang on.

I'm off and running.

Hey, Keppler.

Sir?

Aren't you gonna call into the office?

You think it's safe?

Those guys couldn't hit anything.

I'm afraid I did something bad.

When the shooting started. In my pants.

I hope the negative didn't get wet.

Uh, Rudy, the phone.

Oh, yes.

What's our number?

You've got a direct line there.

Really?

Hello?

Hello, Mr. Duffy. This is Keppler.

Rudy Keppler.

Yes, I'm in the Criminal Courts building, but it looks like there's going to be no hanging tomorrow.

No. No reprieve from the Governor as far as I know.

I can't hear you, Mr. Duffy, with all the shooting and the sirens.

Oh, shit!

Duffy, it's Hildy Johnson. Get me Walter, quick.

Switch that call in here, will you? It's Hildy.

What'd I tell you?

I knew the minute he saw we were replacing him with that snot-nosed kid, it would be such a blow to his ego...

Look, Hildy, if you want your job back, it's too late.

I got a first-class guy coverin' that story.

Yeah, just met him. Full of piss and vinegar.

Now get this, Walter.

Earl Williams just lammed out of jail.

That's right. You heard me.

Holy smoke! Hold everything in the composing room.

Well, thanks for the call, Hildy.

I know you're in a hurry to catch that train.

Christ, when I think what you could have done with this story.

Don't worry, Walter. I'm right on top of it.

Anything I can do for you, Mr. Johnson?

Yeah. Change your diapers.

What happened?

How did he get out of your rubber jail?

Any clue to his whereabouts?

We got to have a statement, Pete.

Come on, Pete.

If you'll just shut up I'll give you a statement.

Mad Dog Williams shot his way out.

My men chased him up to the top floor, but he got out through the skylight.

We've searched the roof, nothing.

We figured he must've slid down the rain pipe to the street.

Still not straight on what happened in your office.

I told you Dr. Eggelhofer was asking him some questions, very polite.

All of a sudden, Williams started firing.

One bullet hit the doctor in the groin, the second one went wild, and the third shot just grazed my ear.

One more inch and... Oh, boy.

What we want to know is, where did Williams get the gun?

Yeah, well, tha-that's what I'd like to know, myself.

Was it smuggled into his cell?

Maybe under the roast beef and Brussels sprouts?

You sure that Chaplain's a Methodist, not a Communist?

Is this the work of outside agitators?

Boys, boys, I assure you I'll follow up every single lead.

Right now, my entire force plus 200 special deputies--

Make way. Make way. Make way!

What happened in there, Doc?

Care to give us your version?

Is Williams sane or insane?

Please, gentlemen, no statements, no questions.

I'm in terrible pain after what he did to me, that fruitcake.

Stand back, let him through.

Where are they taking me?

Passavant hospital. Just 5 minutes from here.

No. No. No. No.

I want to go to the Allgemeines Krankenhaus on Alserstrasse.

Where is that?

In Vienna. I do not trust American doctors.

You'll never make it to Vienna.

In this case, I want a big mirror and some instruments.

I shall operate on myself.

Is this your first trip to the United States?

How do you like Chicago?

Sprechen sie Yiddish?

Where'd he get you, Doc? Right in the old love bells?

Pete, if you don't mind, there's a couple of things about that story that bother me.

Is that so? Well, you're bothering me.

You don't work here anymore, Johnson.

I don't have to talk to you.

Jennie, will you mop up my floor, please?

There's blood all over it.

Right away, Sheriff. As soon as I get a new bucket.

I've got my own ideas about the escape.

You do?

Oh, yeah. I think you let Earl Williams out yourself, so he could vote for you next Tuesday.

Very funny.


What happened to your bucket, Jennie?

He shot it.

Who shot it?

That Earl Williams.

I was cleaning the office next door when it all happened.

You saw it?

No. But I could hear what was going on.

What?

I better keep my mouth shut, 'cause he wouldn't like it.

Who?

The Sheriff. He'd fire me.

Jennie, we've been friends for a long time.

You told me that your husband could play his dentures with a teaspoon, who got him on the Amateur Hour?

Well, I really shouldn't, but I-- I...

Attention all cars, attention.

A man answering Earl Williams' description has been seen boarding southbound trolley at Cottage Grove and Austen.

Please investigate.

Earl Williams has been reported in vicinity of Wrigley building.

Proceed there immediately.

Here's a late report.

Earl Williams has just been spotted in a rowboat on Lake Michigan disguised as a nun.


Fruitcake!

Fruitcake!

Fruitcake!

Dr. Eggelhofer is on his way to Passavant Hospital to operate on himself.

You heard me.

Tightest dragnet in Chicago's history is happening in the North side.

Sheriff Hartman expects Williams to be recaptured any moment now.

Which means they don't have the slightest idea where he is.

Here's a cute little sideline, I just spoke to the hangman.

Whether they get Williams back or not, he gets his $50.

It's play or pay.

Hold on, I have something coming up.

This is Schwartz. Give me rewrite.

Mr. Schwartz, your wife left this for you. Stuffed cabbage.

Ugh.

A tear-gas bomb went off accidentally in one of the Sheriff's cars.

The following deputies needed emergency treatment:

Ted Kowalski, Philip Lustgarten--

She said to be sure to bring home the pot.

Joe Matsburg, Wally Coogan, William Gilhooley.

The Crime Commission has offered $1,000 for the capture of Williams.

No one knows about the gun.

Maybe the Reds dropped it by parachute.

How're we doing? Any flashes, any scoops?

It's almost deadline time, you know.

You still here?

Showing the kid the ropes. Listen, Rudy, the Mayor's car drove up.

See if you can get a statement from him.

The Mayor just showed up. More later.

There's gonna be fireworks.

This is Hildy, get me Walter.

I forgot to tell you, Miss Peggy Grant called.

Peggy? Oh, my God, I forgot. Walter?

Will you get out of here?

Walter, I got the story.

It's a pip, and I got it exclusive.

That's my Hildy. You see why I love you?

Okay, let's have it.

It's the jailbreak of your dreams.

No. No Bolshevik plot. The whole thing was an inside job.

And guess where he got the gun?

All loaded and ready to fire?

Damn it, hang on, will you?

Yeah? Peggy. Hi, baby. Hi.

I'm sorry. I know I'm late, darling. But--

No, I'm not getting drunk.

The party's already over. It's just--

For God's sake, wait a minute, Walter.

We could save time, love. Instead of me coming downtown, why don't you grab a cab and pick me up on the way. How about that?

You're a sweetheart.

Okay, Walter, here we go.

That profound thinker from Vienna, Dr. Max J. Eggelhofer in order to prove some cockamamie theory decides to reenact the crime.

Naturally, he needs a gun, huh.

Who do you think supplied it?

Don't tell me. Sheriff Peter B. Hartman?

That's right. "B" for brains.

That idiot hands his gun to the Professor, the Professor points it at Williams, Williams takes the gun from the Professor and shoots him, right where the money is.

That's beautiful. Where's Eggelhofer now?

Okay, here's what I want you to do.

Get to the hospital and get ahold of that bullet.

So, if the Sheriff tries to deny the story--

Hold it. Walter, I'm not going to any hospital, not stealing any bullets.

There may be further developments.

In the meantime, bat me out a lead.

You know, "Sheriff Hartman: Stooge of Stalin or simply stupid?"

If we move fast, we can make the early edition.

You don't understand, Walter. I've quit.

I gave you that story as a personal favor because you're such a warm, loveable human being but that's it.

My girl's picking me up in 15 minutes, it's goodbye Chicago, goodbye Examiner, goodbye to you.

You maniac.


Listen, you...

...not even their wives.

Now you want to throw it all away for a dame?

You got the brains of a pancake.

Same to you, buster.

How is this going to affect the election, Your Honor?

Will it cost you the colored vote?

The law and order vote? No comments.

You're gonna stand there all night giving us that "no comment" crap?

No comment.

The way we see it, you've got your ass in a sling, Your Honor.

Rubbish.

The voters of Chicago will not let themselves be swayed by this unfortunate incident.

They have complete confidence in their Mayor, just as I have complete faith in Sheriff Hartman.

And I'm sure you boys share that faith and confidence.

No comment.

Sorry to break in but we've located Williams.

This time, for real.

Where? On North Wabash, at the offices of the Friends of American Liberty.

One of our patrols spotted him in the alley.

All right. Get every available man.

Seal off the whole area.

But remember, God damn it, I want him taken alive.

Check.

There's your story, boys.

Wait for us, Fatso.

Okay, Pete. Now, suppose you explain it to me.

How the hell can a guy escape with a double guard around the jail and 200 extra deputies?

Well, it could happen to anybody.

It wouldn't have happened to Prohaska.

I knew I should've put him on the ticket instead of you.

You-- you-- you piss-brain.

Please, Herbie, I've always been a good party man. A team player.

Jesus, we're having that fund-raising dinner at the Palmer House.

All the big money is there.

I'm about to make a pitch for campaign contributions, and then I get news like this.

Calm down, Herbie. It's all over now.

You've heard the latest.

They've got Williams. He can't get away.

What do you mean, he can't get away? He got away, didn't he?

Herbie, I personally--

Don't call me Herbie any more.

From now on, it's Your Honor.

Yes.

Your Honor?

I'm warning you, Pete, if you don't have Williams on the gallows by 7:00 a.m., then God help you.

Because you might just as well go ahead and hang yourself.

# Am I awake now? #

# Or am I dreaming? #

# Congratulate me, step right up #

# Shake my hand #

Uh, excuse me. Which way is the Sheriff's office?

That way.

Uh, Sheriff Hartman?

In here.

Oh, my name is Plunkett.

I just came up from Springfield.

I got somethin' for you. What?

From the Governor.

What's from the Governor?

It's a reprieve for Earl Williams.

For who?

Earl Williams.

What a hassle getting over here from the station.

All those police cars on the wrong side of the street and runnin' the red lights.

Is this a joke or something?

The Governor has a commission to consider last-minute appeals for clemency.

He can't do that to us.

Oh, there was a stack of mail this high and a telegram this long with 4,000 signatures.

How do we know this is not fake?

Yeah. Could be some sort of a Communist trick.

Oh, no. I was right there with the Governor when he signed it.

Get the Governor on the phone. Oh, you can't.

We can't? He's gone fishing.

Just him, an Indian guide, and a canoe.

No phone, no nothin'.

He sure picked a hell of a time to go fishing.

Excuse me.

Uh, just between us, it's not really fishing.

Because that Indian guide is really a girl.

She isn't even Indian. She's from New Jersey.

Yes, Jacobi.

What? You do?

Are you sure? Herbie. Your Honor!

Hold on a minute.

It's Jacobi. They've got him trapped.

They've surrounded the building.

Tell him to stay on the line.

Stay on the line.

Don't make a move till I say so.

Look, Mr. Plunkett, about this reprieve, we can't accept it.

But why not?

It wouldn't be legal.

We don't have Earl Williams in our custody.

You don't? Where is he?

He escaped.

You saw those police cars.

We're looking for him.

Oh, dear. That is a problem.

I think I better phone the Governor.

You can't. He's off fishing. Remember?

So, why don't you come back tomorrow morning?

I'm sure by then, we'll have him back in our jurisdiction.

You mean, spend the night in Chicago?

Any objections?

Well, no, sirree, Bob.

Trouble is, I don't know anybody here.

Do you like Chinese food?

Well, I'm not really hungry, I had a sandwich on the train.

But you didn't have a Chinese sandwich.

I never heard of it.

You'll never forget it.

Ask for Madame Chow.

Tell her the Green Hornet sent you.

The Green Hornet?

And just put everything on my tab.

Well, that's very kind of you.

Not at all. Not at all.

And you can use my chopsticks.

Oh, thank you.

Uh, goodbye, Sheriff.

He's waiting for instructions. What are we gonna do?

Tell him to shoot to kill.

What?

Shoot to kill, I said.

I-- I don't know, Herbie. What about that reprieve? l-lf it ever comes out.

Nobody reprieved that policeman he shot.

There was no clemency, either.

Do what I tell you!

Jacobi, you there? Listen. Shoot to kill!

You heard me.

Okay, okay, Sheriff.

Only, I thought you wanted him alive.

Anything you say, Sheriff.

We know you're up there, Williams.

Now, this is your last chance.

Throw the gun out the window and come out with your hands up.

Or we'll smoke you out.

New instructions. No bullhorn, no tear gas.

We go in there, and we go in shooting.

All set! Let's go, men!

Give us a break, fellas, we're Press.

Christ, we're gonna miss the whole thing. Come on, will you?

Stand back.


Do you suppose there's a bathroom around here?

Ah.

The future Mrs. Johnson, I presume?

Been waiting long, darling?

Only my whole life. I'm sorry I was tied up.

Oh, like all the orchids in the Bahamas.

What do you say we pick up the bags first then eat at the station?

Let's. Have you got the tickets?

Have I got the tickets. A lower for you and an upper for me.

Oh, no, darling. You take the lower.

Tell you what? Why don't we both take the lower?

What about the conductor?

He can have the upper.

Where to, Mac?

Huh?

Uh-oh. Oh.

Uh, no place, huh? Just stay here. God damned idiot.

Who? Me.

I left the wedding rings in the pressroom.

I hope the bums haven't stolen them.

I'll be back.

You don't mind waiting, do you?

What's there to mind?

The night's young, the orchids are smelling, the meter is running.

Just made another nickel.

Jesus Christ Almighty.

Shut the door.

Okay, okay, Earl. Hey, just put the gun down.

I said, shut the door!

How in the hell did you--

I've been hanging in the airshaft, but I couldn't hold on any longer.

They-- They got me in the arm. Don't move!

You realize they're looking for you all over Chicago?

You cops.

You're all so dumb.

I'm not a cop, Earl. You know me. Hildy Johnson.

I interviewed you in your cell.

Oh, yeah. I remember. Yeah. I read every word.

"An outraged minnow battling against the tides of injustice."

I liked that.

Earl?

Earl?

Oh, oh-- oh.

Hello. Yeah, Duffy. This is Hildy. Get me Walter.

Well, I don't give a damn! Just get him. This is urgent.

Walter? W-Walter, listen.

Will you for Christ's sake listen? Now get this.

I'm only going to say it once, I've got Earl Williams.

What's the gag? You got him where?

Honest to God? You swear?

Jesus!

Examiner captures Earl Williams.

I'll be right over.

You better. Because I don't know how long I can keep him sewed up.

Damn it, there's someone at the door.

Just a minute.

Coming.

Mollie. Where is he?

Who? Who? Earl. I hear they got him trapped.

For God's sake, tell me where.

I don't know. Ask down in the Sheriff's office.

They wouldn't give me the time of day.

There's nothing you can do here. Go home and wait.

Wait for what? The morning papers, so I can read how they shot him down like a dog, the yellow murderers?

And who's gonna give a damn? Not you guys.

'Cause all you care about is a stinking headline.

Hello, Mollie.

Earl.

Thank you for the roses.

Earl, what have they done to you?

They were after me with searchlights, but I fooled them.

We gotta get him to a doctor.

A doctor?

He'd just turn him over to the cops. And we don't want that, do we?

So I'll fool them again.

I'll bleed to death before they can hang me.

No, Earl. You mustn't talk like that.

Hold the towel, stick your arm out.

Hey, hey, this isn't my suit, you know.

It's government property.

They'll be very sore.

Who's that?

It's me, Peggy.

Peggy who? I'll be right with you.

Keep him quiet.

Peggy! What's on your mind?

Oh, nothing in particular.

I just happened to be in the neighborhood.

I didn't forget. The taxi, downstairs.

You might be interested to know, the cab driver just proposed to me.

And as soon as the meter hits $10, I'm accepting.

Don't worry. I got the rings.

I need a few minutes. I'm waiting for Walter to show up.

You're not getting involved with Burns again?

Of course not. God forbid.

Things are breaking around here, this hot potato dropped right in my lap. As soon as Walter gets here--

Hildy, what is that?

Nothing. Is that a gun?

Don't be silly. Now, you just take the cab and you pick up all the bags, yours and mine, come back here. I'll meet you downstairs.

What are you doing with a gun?

I'll explain it later, honey. On the train.

In that lower berth, hmm? Hmm?

Okay?

I can't wait.

You don't have to answer this, Mollie, but is it true what they said in the papers?

What'd they say?

That you were willing to marry me on the gallows.

Well, if it's in the papers, it must be true.

They wouldn't print a lie.

The funny thing is, the last night in your place, I was gonna propose to you but I couldn't go through with it.

Of course you couldn't.

Because you know how I earn my living.

No. It's not you, Mollie.

You're the best person I know.

It's me. I just had nothing to offer you.

Earl, hold still.

I wrote out a will and I gave it to the warden.

I'm leaving everything to you.

A pile of books.

Maybe you can get something for them second hand.

And a picture of my mother, in a silver frame and a souvenir pillow from Atlantic City.

Hey, who locked the door?

Anybody in there?

Uh, just a minute.

Open up, will you?

In here. No, that's no good.

You better climb out on... No, not with that arm.

What the hell's going on?

Oh, my God!

The desk!

For Christ's sake, we gotta get to the phones.

What's the trouble?

Hildy's in there and won't open the door.

Hey, Hildy. What's the big idea?

Hold your water. I'm coming.

Dead quiet. Don't even breathe.

I'll be right here, Earl. I won't leave you.

Gee, Mollie, you're swell.

What are you trying to do, kick down the building?

This some kind of game?

You don't own this office.

Shit, man, we got work to do.

Watch your language.

Oh, I beg your pardon, ma'am.

Kinda cozy, with the shades down.

Are you practicing for your honeymoon?

City desk. What happened? Did they get Williams?

They couldn't catch a fart in a rain barrel.

Halloween going on out there. Murphy. You ready?

Sheriff's rifle squad stormed offices of Friends of American Liberty, fired off 800 rounds of ammunition.

Casualties included a water cooler, two mimeograph machines and Rufus McBride, a deaf janitor.

During the shootout, Mrs. Phoebe DeWolfe, aged 33, watching from a window across the street gave premature birth to a five-and-a-half-pound baby boy.

Sheriff's deputies examined the infant to make sure it wasn't Earl Williams, who they knew was hiding somewhere.

What a screw-up.

Right now my boss is throwing a costume ball in San Simeon with Marion Davies and Ronald Coleman and Vilma Banky.

Okay. Here goes.

Special Deputy Herman Shulty, the Sheriff's brother-in-law, who was leading a search party through the Wrigley Building has sent out a call for immediate help.

Somebody stole his police car.

City desk.

Give me rewrite.

The wounded janitor was taken to Passavant Hospital where he joins Dr. Eggelhofer and the six deputies injured by tear gas.

They're opening up a special wing.

Yeah. There's no point in talking to the Sheriff.

He doesn't know shit from Shineola.

Roadblocks have been set up at main intersections.

So far, three police cars have smashed into them.

Here's the latest.

Police launch, acting on a hot tip, sank a rowboat in Lake Michigan.

The suspect turned out to be Sister Theresa of lmmaculate Heart.

She is resting comfortably in Jewish Community Hospital.

You should've been there. You missed all the excitement.

Did I?

Everybody's been so nice to me.

Coming back here, they let me pay for the taxi.

Ah, you're on your way, slick.

I should've stayed here with the stuffed cabbage.

What are you doing in my chair? Go flop somewhere else.

Lay off her. She's not hurting anything.

Out, out. Go peddle your goodies on Division Street.

If all men were like you, I'd starve to death.

If you don't mind, I'd like to call my office.

You got something good?

An exclusive interview with that janitor who was shot.

If I were you, I wouldn't use this phone. I'd go down the hall.

Why?

Because you're the only legitimate newspaperman here.

All these bums steal your stuff.

Oh, let them. They don't have my style. The Bensinger touch.

Hold it! Don't move.

What's the matter? Uh-huh, nose bleed.

Put your head back.

Oh, must be my blood pressure.

Or menopause or something. Hey, slick.

He needs help. Take him in there.

There's a towel in my desk.

Never mind. Put that ice on the back of his neck.

Oh, thank you, dear boy.

Look, I'm pretending there ain't no Earl Williams. So, goodbye.

He's been seen where?

Bullshit. I'm not going on a wild goose chase.

One more guy in Chicago with a gun, who's gonna notice?

Let's get back to work. Deal the cards.

Who pulled down the shades?

Hildy.

They were shooting at the window again.

I thought you had to catch a train.

Yeah. You were in such a goddamn hurry.

Slight change of plans.

I'm being picked up here.

You know, fellas, I got a whole different theory about where Williams is.

You do?

I don't think he's in any of those places they've been looking.

Well, that's obvious.

There's no way he could've gotten out with all those guards around.

What are you driving at?

If he was coming down the rain pipe, he could've climbed into any of those windows along the way.

My hunch is he's somewhere in this building.

Oh, sure. He's hanging around like a duck in a shooting gallery.

The mastermind at work. Hawkshaw.

What correspondence school did you graduate from?

All right. All right.

But maybe it isn't all that meshuga.

Maybe he climbed back into his cell and is hiding under his bed.

Yeah, maybe he's stashed away in some filing cabinet under "F" for fruitcake.

He's probably waiting until morning, then he'll come tap dancing down the stairs singing I Surrender Dear.

Hey, wait a minute, fellas. Maybe Schwartz has got something.

We ought to search the building.

Us? Search the building?

Remember he's got a gun.

Let the cops do it.

Jesus. You got the story right under your noses.

Let's spread out. Everybody take a floor. I'll cover for you.

Oh, you will? Sure.

That's white of you. Glad to do it.

You wouldn't be trying to throw us a curve?

Where'd you get that idea?

Something funny's going on.

We found him and Mollie alone.

Door locked and shades down.

What the hell were you doing?

What do you think we were doin'?

Playing Parcheesi?

Okay, fans, so now you know.

Guy's entitled to have a little fun, hmm?

The night before you get married?

Don't give us that crap.

I don't know about you guys, but with the sirens wailing, the bullets flying, all hell breaking loose I find that sort of stimulating.

Sexually, if you know what I mean.

You and Mollie?

Come on. You got better taste than that.

Take that back, or I'll belt you one.

You weren't screwing Mollie. You were trying to screw us.

Like you did on that St. Valentine's Day Massacre.

Yeah. Sending us to the wrong garage.

You think we forgot that?

That's the business. Dog eat dog.

What're you trying to pull now?

Me? I've quit.

One last stunt to make us look stupid.

That wouldn't be too hard.

Give us the lowdown.

You're on to something.

You wouldn't hold out on your pals.

You shan't scoop us this time.

All right, fellas. I was lyin'.

But I'm gonna level with you now.

You better.

The address of that garage is 2122 North Clark Street.

You miserable bastard!

What are they doing to Mr. Johnson?

What are they doing to my desk?

Gentlemen, please.

You won't get away with it, Hildy.

What about Williams?

Where is he?

We'll kick your balls in.

Leave him alone! He doesn't know anything!

Says who?

Says me!

I'm the only one who knows where Earl Williams is.

Yeah? Where?

Why should I tell you anything, you lousy crumbs?

Don't let her out. Somebody close the door.

You ain't going anywhere.

Where is he?

I never squealed on anybody in my life, and I ain't squealing now.

Come on, you tart, or we'll slap it out of you.

We'll turn you over to the cops. They'll make you talk.

Get your hands off of me, you...

Put that chair down.

Somebody get behind her. Oh, no, you don't.

You just keep away from me, you shit-heels!

Let go of me, you...

Six big guys ganging up on a girl.

Let me know if you need any help.

You stay out of it, Hildy.

Somebody grab her.

You try it and I'll break your goddamn heads!

Gentlemen! Gentlemen!

If you ask me, you're going about this the wrong way.

Well, who asked you?

Mollie, if you have any information, we'll pay you for it.

Sure. We'll all chip in.

We'll give you $20.

Yeah? I'm a whore, ain't I? I'll do anything for money.

We'll make it $50.

You know how many customers that is?

Save a lot of wear and tear on your ass.

Why don't you all drop dead?

All right, you slut...

Want us to get rough with you?

Take that chair away from her.

Watch out for those goddamn heels.

Oh, dear. Must be my editor.

You bitch! Come on, talk.

I'll see you in hell first.

All right.

You want to know where Earl Williams is?

I'll tell you where he is.

Just follow me.

Mollie!

Jesus.

Holy God.

She's killed herself for sure.

That's terrible. You drove her to it.

I never thought she'd do that.

What'd you expect?

All whores are a little goofy.

Hey, she's not dead!

Look, look. She's moving.

Come on, let's go.

What a story.

Shady lady leaps for love!

Walter, did you see that? She jumped.

Yeah.

Where is he?

I think I'm gonna be sick.

Come on, come on. There's no time for that. Where have you got Williams?

Pull those shades.

Hi, Earl. How you doing? Don't worry, I'm your friend.

Where's Mollie? What happened?

What did they do to her?

She's gonna be all right.

Let me out! I can't stand it!

Just stay where you are. You're sitting pretty.

Now, then, let's get organized.

Hello. Burns here, get me Duffy.

I don't hear that typewriter, Hildy.

Get your ass over there.

I want some of that old Johnson word magic.

What're you waiting for?

I'm waiting for my girl, that's what I'm waitin' for. She's gonna pick me up.

Your girl? What are you, some puking college boy?

This is the hottest story since the Chicago fire!

We'll make monkeys out of all the other papers.

We'll kick City Hall over like an applecart.

Expose the bastards, huh?

Expose them? We'll crucify 'em!

You and I will be running this town.

They'll be naming streets after us.

Johnson Street. Burns Boulevard.

How come you're a boulevard, I'm only a street?

Duffy? Where the hell is Duffy?

Somebody answer me!

Y-Y-Yes?

Get your head back in there, you goddamn turtle.

Quit stalling, Hildy.

Get that machine and tear into it.

Now, listen, Earl, when I rap three times, that means the coast is clear. Understand?

Attaboy.

How long do you think you can hide him in there?

No problem. We take him to the Examiner, keep him under wraps until we can break the story exclusive.

How're you gonna get him outta here? The cops will see him.

Not if he's inside the desk.

You're gonna move the whole desk? How?

We'll lower it out of the window if necessary.

Duffy?

Duffy! Where the hell have you been?

Screw your diabetes. Here's what I want you to do.

Send over one of our delivery trucks right away with six gorillas from circulation.

And tell them to bring a block and tackle.

Who is it?

Rudy Keppler. Examiner.

Piss and vinegar.

Duffy, keep this line open. Don't you leave the phone again.

It's a miracle. She only has a concussion and a broken leg.

Thank God.

She's going to Passavant Hospital.

All the reporters have gone. Should I go, too?

No, we need you here.

Oh, hello, Mr. Burns.

You got that camera?

Yes, sir, right here.

Let's have it.

Yes, sir.

Earl, I need a picture of you.

Uh, I don't have one on me.

Oh, we're gonna take it now.

It's for the Examiner tomorrow. Front page. Huh?

Oh, really?

Hey.

You know who that is?

Oh, shut up. And let's have your collar, too.

My collar?

It's celluloid, isn't it?

Ha.

I'm calling the Sheriff a hyena. What do you like with it?

Vile, corrupt, unscrupulous, depraved?

Yeah. And in that order.

He can sue the paper for a million dollars.

Let him. We'll take it out of your salary.

Here. When I say "now," drop this in there.

Got it?

All right, Earl. Ready?

No, Earl. No smile.

Give me that hunted look.

Cowering, fearful of every sound, of every footstep, like an animal at bay.

Hold it.

Now!

That's it.

Take this over to the paper, develop it immediately.

Yes, sir. Goodbye, Mr. Williams.

How're we coming?

Beat it.

What are you gonna do with me now?

Just trust me.

Duffy, listen.

We're gonna rip out the whole front page.

The kid's on his way with a photograph.

Wait till you see it.

Hildy's knocking out the story now.

Yes, I said Hildy.

He said he'd be waiting.

You want me to get him?

Would you, please? Third floor, pressroom.

A newspaperman? Don't tell me.

Those guys, you pick them up late at night, they pass out in the cab. You schlep them upstairs, you undress them, you put them to bed.

When you go through their pockets for the fare, they start yelling for the cops.

I schenk you newspapermen.

Never mind. I'll go myself.

To hell with the Nicaraguan earthquake.

I don't care if there's 100,000 dead.

The League of Nations? Spike it.

No, no, no. Don't touch Cdr. Byrd and the penguins, that's human interest.

Can I mention the Mayor's half interest in that Chinese whorehouse?

Pour it on, kiddo. Below the belt, every punch.

Duffy, has that delivery truck left yet with the block and tackle?

Well, goose them up. God damn it, every minute counts!

Hildy.

Hildy.

Jesus! People walk in and out of here like it was a Greyhound terminal.

Uh, Peggy, I thought you were picking up the bags.

I did. They're downstairs in the cab.

Oh, yeah? Well, we got plenty of time. Sit down, honey.

The Hoover speech?

Shove it between the want ads and the obituaries.

Oh, this is the greatest thing that ever happened to me in my life.

Oh, I thought I was.

I didn't mean it that way, honey. Honey...

What is this, The Student Prince?

We're working against a deadline.

So are we.

Let's hear what you got.

"While hundreds of Sheriff Hartman's paid gunmen stalked through Chicago

"shooting innocent bystanders, "spreading their reign of terror, Earl Williams was lurking less than 200 feet from the Sheriff's--"

Hold it! Aren't you gonna mention the Examiner?

Don't we take any credit?

It's in the second paragraph.

Who the hell's gonna read the second paragraph?

For 15 years I've been trying to teach you how to write a lead.

Do I have to do everything myself?

Get the story? Write it?

Listen, saphead, I can blow a better story out of my...

My nose than you can write.

Goddamn dilettante. Maybe Philadelphia's where you belong, making up jingles for Burma-shave.

Oh, really? Well, who wrote the deathbed confession of "Three-Finger" Banducci?

Who wrote Roxie Hart's diary, huh?

What-- what about the Dayton flood?

Even the telegraph operator was crying.

All right, make me cry now.

Someday you're gonna do that, Walter, and I'm gonna sock you right in the schnoz.

You're beautiful when you're angry.

Duffy. Duffy?

Duffy!

That's what I get for hiring somebody with a disease.

I'm beginning to think all newspapermen have a disease.

Oh, for Christ's sake. Now the moon is out.

This the sort of thing you had in mind?

"The Chicago Examiner once again

"rode to the rescue of the city last night

"in the darkest hour of her history.

"Earl Williams, the Bolshevik tiger

"who leaped snarling from the gallows

"onto the flanks of the unsuspecting city was captured by..." Now you're cooking!

How many words? Give me everything you got.

Because, with this, you're stepping into a new class.

Heywood Bruin. H.L. Mencken.

Grafters and gangsters.

Sin City: Blood in the gutters.

A rhapsody in red.

Red. That's what we'll do.

The headline in red ink.

180 point type?

180 nothing, 360.

It's like Lindbergh landing in Paris.

Cigarette me.


Hildy, you don't really want to give this up, do you?

Deep down--

Honey, please, not now. I-I'm going good.

Darling, where are the tickets?

Uh, right in there.

I'm taking mine. There's no use my sticking around.

All righty. Go on down to the station. Check the bags in.

I-I'll get there. Don't you worry.

Goodbye, Hildy.

See you.

I hope he saved the sales slip for the wedding rings.

No big deal. They'll make nice cufflinks.

Got enough air?

Duffy? That kid show up yet with the photo?

Well, I want it made up into a four-column cut.

Tell Max in circulation, we're going for a million.

Hey, open up in there.

Oh, shit!

Who's that?

Bensinger. Tribune. That's his desk.

I'll handle this. What did you say his name was?

Bensinger.

Kind of exclusive aren't you, Johnson?

Hello, Bensinger.

Oh, Mr. Burns.

It's quite an honor having you here.

You know my name?

Do I know his name?

Hildy and I were just talking about you.

That was one swell story you had in the Tribune this morning.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Burns. Did you care for the poem?

The poem? That's what made it.

I'm rather proud of the ending:

"And all is well outside his cell

"But in his heart he hears

"The hangman calling And the gallows falling And his white-haired mother's tears"

A classic.

Bensinger, how would you like to work for me?

You mean that, Mr. Burns?

I'm not just whistling Dixie.

Duffy, I'm sending Bensinger over to see you.

Marvin, isn't it?

Oh, no, no. Roy. Roy V.

You sure? Roy Bensinger, the poet.

Put him right on the staff.

How much you getting at the Tribune?

$75.

Give him $100 and a by-line.

Is that truck on the way over yet? Good.

They're coming to pick up your desk. My desk?

Ah, you shouldn't be working a police beat. I want you right at my elbow.

Now, get over to the office and report to Duffy.

You mean, right now?

Oh, I couldn't quit the Tribune just like that.

It wouldn't be ethical.

You don't owe them a damn thing.

Well, they have been treating me rather shabbily.

The way they edit my copy. They just butcher it.

On the Examiner, your copy will be sacred.

Sacred. Sacred.

Roy, here's your first assignment.

I want you to make up a prayer for the city of Chicago.

We'll carry it on the editorial page.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, last year there were 421 unsolved murders..."

All set up in boldface Gothic.

Okay. I'll just get my rhyming dictionary.

It doesn't have to rhyme.

Just give me the Goddamndest prayer anybody ever heard.

You want it Old Testament or New Testament?

Let's have it between the Sermon on the Mount and the 23rd Psalm.

That's easy.

Duffy, that Tribune sneak is on the way over.

Yeah, Bensinger.

Wait till he hands in his copy, then tell him his prayer stinks, and kick him down the stairs.

"His white-haired mother's tears," for Christ's sake.

Where do you want these, Mr. Johnson?

Any place.

The lady said-- All right.

Those are my bags. What are they doing here?

The lady sent them up. Peggy?

Oh, I don't know her name, but she sure was crying when that taxi drove off.

Okay. Okay.

Crying? What did I do wrong?

Nothing. Those were tears of happiness.

She had a narrow escape and so did you.

Well, I don't want to escape.

I'm nuts about her. I want to marry her.

But I wouldn't expect you to understand a thing like that.

Don't tell me about women.

That dame in Waukegan chopped up her husband and flushed him down the drain on their honeymoon.

He was nuts about her, too.

And that Mrs. Haggerty.

Knocked off six husbands by sprinkling arsenic on their prune whip.

That's marriage for you.

You think you got it made?

No home, no family, no friends.

Eating cold beans outta tin cans, sleepin' on your office couch five nights a week.

The only time you ever get it up is when you put the paper to bed.

All right, you've had a nice rest.

Now put down that fairy wand and get back to work.

Goodbye, Walter.

Hildy, this is desertion.

If you were in the Army, you could be shot for this.

Get out of my way!

Not so fast, Johnson. Where do you think you're going?

To the station, to meet my fiancee.

Your fiancee, huh? What's her name, Earl Williams?

Earl Williams? You're crazy.

Hang onto him.

He and Mollie are in cahoots.

Now his boss shows up.

There's something fishy going on here.

Okay, Johnson. What are you two cooking up?

Hartman, you've got any questions, address them directly to me.

All right, Burns. What are you doing here?

None of your goddamn business.

Ever hear of the First Amendment?

Guarantees freedom of the press and the pressroom.

I must ask you to leave.

You what?

Or I'll have you arrested.

Don't let him bluff you.

Show him who's in charge.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I'm in charge here.

I don't care what kind of a hotshot editor you are, Burns, I can have you barred from this building.

That's right. You can.

Why don't you throw us out? Both of us.

Oh, no. Nobody's leaving until I get to the bottom of this.

Will you give me a break? My girl's gonna leave without me.

Now let go of me, God damn it.

Watch out. Watch out, he's got a gun.

I'll take it.

Hopalong Johnson. The Drugstore Cowboy.

Where'd you get this?

I got a right to carry a gun if I want to.

Not this gun.

I can explain that.

He was doing a piece on the Abadaba gang, and I gave it to him for self-protection.

Oh, yeah? That's very interesting.

This happens to be the gun that Earl Williams shot his way out with.

Are you trying to make me out a liar?

I know my own gun when I see it!

Your gun? So that's it.

I knew something stunk here. How come?

What's the story? Never mind that.

Where's Earl Williams. Where have you got him?

Are you implying that the Examiner would aid and abet a criminal?

You're darn tootin'.

Don't you know what it says on our masthead, right under the eagle?

"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

Don't listen to that.

They're playin' us for suckers.

Give them the third degree.

Leave it to me, boys.

Johnson, if you're in such a goddamn hurry, I'll make you a deal.

You tell me where Williams is and I'll let you go.

Okay, it's a deal.

Where is he?

He went to the hospital to see Dr. Eggelhofer.

What? With a bag of marshmallows.

Oh, for Christ's sake.

Wise guy.

Hartman, you're a disgrace to your badge.

There's a killer on the loose, and you're harassing innocent citizens.

Excuse me.

Don't touch that!

I'll answer it.

It may be Earl Williams.

I'll lay you 6-to-5 on that.

Hello? Who?

Yes, this is Walter Burns.

Sorry to bother you, Mr. Burns, but I have some bad news.

The photograph, I'm afraid it didn't come out.

Maybe the film was a little damp.

What photograph?

Of Earl Williams?

The one I took?

Where?

God damn it, don't tell me I should know.

Just remind me.

That does it, Burns.

It's against the law to impersonate a managing editor.

I'll give you 10 seconds to hand over Earl Williams.

You can't even count to 10.

Damn it!

I know he's around here someplace.

Aha!

Where did this come from?

How the hell would I know?

Does it belong to Earl Williams?

Why don't you put an ad in the classifieds?

Maybe he'll come around to claim it.

By God! I'll find him, if I have to tear this place apart brick by brick.

Hi, Mr. Burns, we got the truck here.

Not now, Butch. Go away.

Wait a minute.

What are you fellas here for?

We're supposed to pick up somethin'.

Is that so?

Well, now we're getting someplace.

What were you supposed to pick up?

I don't know. Mr. Burns was gonna tell us.

All right, Mr. Burns. Go ahead, tell him.

Sure. Boys, take those two suitcases down to the truck and wait for me.

Here you are, fellas.

Who are you kiddin', Burns?

Five guys and a truck to pick up two suitcases?

Go fight the Teamsters' Union.

Forget it, Moe! We won't need it.

God damn it to hell. I want to know what's going on around here, if I have to beat it out of you with a rubber hose!

Hartman, you're through. You're all washed up.

Who says so?

The voters.

Come Tuesday, they're gonna kick you out on your big fat can.

You'll be sellin' pencils at the corner of State and Lake if you can get a permit from the new sheriff.

Why is everybody ganging up on me?

The Mayor wants to take me off the ticket.

My wife isn't speaking to me.

I got a gallows out there going to waste.

I haven't eaten a thing all day.

It's just not fair.

Please. Please tell me where Earl Williams is.

I'm the law. You gotta have a little respect.

Pull yourself together, Hartman.

Don't you understand?

The Bolsheviks are everywhere!

They're taking over!

They're coming out of the sewers like rats.

Climbing up our flagpole and gnawing away at our Stars and Stripes!

Better get him a straightjacket.

What'd you say?

You ought to be put away, Hartman, 'cause you're sick, sick, sick.

You'll be sorry when I'm gone.

And you won't have anybody to kick around anymore.

What's that?

What's what?

Holy God! He's in there.

It's Williams.

He's in the desk.

Stand back, everybody! Get your guns!

Dumb commie schmuck.

City desk. Don't take any chances.

Hurry it up.

We're dealing with a wild animal.

Shoot right through the desk!

For God's sake, he's harmless. You've got his gun.

Aim right at the center!

That's cold-blooded murder.

Pete, I'm warning you. There's witnesses here.

Williams, we got you covered.

I'm gonna count to three.

Open up or we'll blast you! One...

Stand by. Any second now.

Two... Hold on.

Coming right up.

Three!

All right, Williams. No funny business.

Just come on out.

I can't. I can't. My legs are asleep.

Grab him, boys!

Hey, hey, easy. Easy, now.

Earl Williams was captured in the Criminal Courts Building hiding in a desk.

He put up a desperate struggle, but he was overpowered.

He tried to shoot it out with the cops, but his gun jammed.

Williams was betrayed by an old sweetheart, who then attempted suicide.

Duffy, take this down. The Examiner, guardian and conscience of Chicago having single-handedly captured Earl Williams has just handed him over to Sheriff what's-his-name.

Now then, the hanging will go on as scheduled, 7:00 a.m. sharp.

Take him away, boys.

Goodbye, Earl.

Tell Mollie not to cry.

Those 13 steps, they don't lead up to the gallows.

They lead up to the stars.

That's it, Hildy!

Not to the gallows, but up to the stars.

There's your last words.

And on the front page, we'll have a composite picture.

The stars, the steps, and at the top of the steps, Marx and Lenin waiting for Earl Williams. How's that?

Just dandy.

Put the handcuffs on them.

My pleasure.

What's the charge?

Conspiracy to obstruct justice, harboring a fugitive, possession of a stolen weapon adds up to about 10 years apiece for you birds.

Operator, get me Clarence Darrow.

Not even Houdini can get you out of this.

Now, listen, you pimple head, when I finish with you, you'll wish you were never born.

We'll butter the town with your brains.

Whistling in the dark, huh?

We've been in tighter spots than this.

Remember that minister who had us thrown into jail?

Rev. Godolphin. Because we printed he conducted sex orgies in the organ loft.

Well, on the day of the trial, he was on his way to court with all his lawyers and witnesses.

Drowned, by God, drowned in the river.

With their automobile and their law books and their goddamn affidavits.

And I have the same feeling right now that I had before that accident.

You don't scare me, Burns. Lock them up.

Well, I--

Honey, get me extension 361.

I tell you, Hartman, there's a divine providence that watches over the Examiner.

An unseen power.

Out!

What did you say, honey?

That's impossible.

There's gotta be somebody there.

It's the jail.

# Swing low, sweet chariot #

# Coming for to carry me home #

# Swing low, sweet chariot #

# Coming for to carry me home #

# I looked over Jordan #

# And what did I see #

# Coming for to carry me home ##

Hey, knock it off, will you?

What time have you got?

11:40.

Where the hell's Duffy with the bail?

You have mixed up my whole life, that's what you've done.

Who me? What a horse's ass I turned out to be.

Falling for a song and dance like that.

They'll be namin' streets after me.

I'll never meet another girl like that. She was one in a million.

I didn't know it was anything that serious.

Why didn't you tell me?

Why didn't I tell you?

I'd be the last person in the world to stand in the way of your happiness.

Oh, you hypocritical, dirty...

Now that it's too late.

It's never too late, kid, because somebody up there--

Don't give me that unseen power crap!


You're making a big mistake, officer.

The Mayor is a personal friend of mine.

Sure he is.

He's even let me use his chopsticks.

Get in there.

It was my one chance to get out of this rat race and lead a normal life.

By this time tomorrow, I could've been a gentleman.

Now, instead of Philadelphia, I'm going to Joliet.

What Joliet? In the first place, they'll never indict us.

In the second place, no jury'll ever convict us.

In the third place, we can always get a reprieve from the governor.

With all the dirt I've got on every big shot--

Funny you should mention that.

Mention what?

A reprieve from the governor.

I just happen to have one on me.

Get out of here, you're drunk.

Oh, I'll say. I was at this Chinese place.

The Mayor sent me there.

You know the Mayor, too?

Oh, sure. And the sheriff.

Of course, I don't know them as well as I know the governor.

Wait a minute. If you've got a reprieve, how come you're in jail?

Oh, it's not for me.

It isn't?

You see, I came down from Springfield.

Plunkett's the name.

Proud of you, Pete. You did a terrific job.

All in a night's work, Your Honor.

You can call me Herbie, again.

Hey, look who's here.

The Green Hornet.

Hi, Horny.

What are those girls doing here?

The Chink broads? We just raided them.

On whose orders?

We always knock over a few cathouses before election.

You know that. To get the family vote.

Nice work.

Thank you, Herbie.

Here they are. Look kinda natural, don't they, behind bars?

A sight for sore eyes.

I reckon you boys are gonna be away from Chicago for a long time.

Yeah. Making brooms and license plates.

Maybe I can fix it for you to work on a prison paper as copyboys.

Hot in here, isn't it, Hildy?

Yeah. Why don't you put in some fans or ventilators?

How about an air-conditioning system?

Scented with pine needles.

Suit yourself.

Because tomorrow, you guys are gonna be in this cell.

Big joke.

Yeah. We were just laughing about it, with our friend, Mr. Plunkett.

Plunkett?

Hiya, Mayor. Hiya, Sheriff.

Who is this man?

Never saw him before in my life.

I suppose you never saw this before, either?

What is it?

A reprieve for Earl Williams.

Hangin' a man just to win an election, huh?

Why, that's absurd.

I don't know what you're talking about. Do we, Herbie?

Oh, such big liars.

Let me see that.

If Williams has been reprieved, I personally am tickled to death.

Go on. You'd hang your own mother for a couple of lousy votes.

That's a terrible thing to say, Burns, about anybody.

Sheriff, this document is authentic.

Earl Williams, thank God, has been reprieved.

The commonwealth of Chicago has been spared the necessity of taking a human life.

Save that for the Tribune.

Pete, I want you to release my friends, Walter Burns and Hildy Johnson.

I was about to. They're my friends, too.

Jacobi.

Open up.

Don't be too hard on Pete, boys.

He gets a little over zealous sometimes.

You goddamn hoodoo.

What did I tell you? An unseen power.

Oh, yeah. Except by now, I've missed the train.

No. Mayor, here's what I want you to do.

Anything.

There's a train leaving at midnight for Philadelphia.

Have them hold it for 10 minutes. Got it.

As for you, Sheriff. You've got it.

We need a police escort to take Hildy to Union Station.

How many do you want? I have 200 men.

Hey, what about me?

Shut up, you goddamn hoodoo!

Hoodoo?


Hildy. Hildy, you can't walk out on us.

You can't leave your family. I need you.

The children need you.

Daddy! Daddy!

What the hell?

All right, Myrtle. That's enough. Can it.

What's the matter, Mr. Burns? Didn't I do it right?

You were perfect. Here's $5.

Split it between you. Bye.

What was that all about?

Just a little somethin' I had up my sleeve in case of a tie, but it's not necessary now.

Aha.


Well, goodbye, Johnson.

Take good care of him, Peggy.

You're getting a great guy.

Never mind the Valentine.

You may not like what I'm going to say but I don't believe you're as tough as you pretend to be.

Underneath it all, I think you're a real softie.

Well, don't let it get around.

You crazy bastard.

We'll sure miss you on the paper.

Well, if I ever come back to the business, which I won't, there's only one man I'd ever work for. You know that.

I'd kill you if you ever worked for anybody else.

Hear that, Peggy? That's my diploma.

All aboard!

Wish I had time to get you a wedding present. I know!

What? Walter, I couldn't take it.

I insist.

It was a present from the big chief himself.

And if you look on the inside you'll find a little inscription:

"To the best newspaperman I know."

When you get to Philadelphia, you can have my name scratched out and put yours in its place.

You know I wouldn't do that.

Goodbye, Mr. Burns.

Best of luck, you love birds!

Goodbye, you big palooka.


That train that just left.

What's the first stop?

Gary, Indiana.

All right. Send a message to the police chief of Gary, Indiana.

Tell them to meet the midnight train to Philadelphia and arrest one Hildy Johnson.

Hildy Johnson?

Yeah.

Son of a bitch stole my watch.