The Front Page (1931)/ English subtitles


We’re all ready to shoot it, Jacobi.
Ready whenever you are. Say, Henry! The rope for that last hanging danced that guy
up and down like he was on a rubber band. Williams only weighs 134. Addin’ a couple of pounds for breakfast,
the way those guys always eat, that brings it up to 136. Keep it up till you get the spring out
of it. We want this one’s neck broke. All right. Hey, what’s the idea throwin’
things out of the window? Quit playing with that gallows.
How do you expect us to do any work? Well, you cut that yellin’. I’ll get the sheriff after you bums! Ain’t much respect
for the press around here. – How’s the wife, Ed? Any better?
– Worse. And me havin’ to hang around all day and
night, waitin’ for ’em to hang that cuckoo. It’s hard work, all right. Crack it for a dime. – Hey, Schwartz, what do you do?
– By me. – What time is it, anyway?
– 4:30. – Stay.
– Me too. These cards are like washrags.
Let’s chip in and get a new deck. These are good enough for me.
I’m 80 cents out already. Faber 1059. Hey, take this phone. Ernie, you ain’t doing anything! Are you guys crippled or something? Criminal Courts Building, press room.
Just a minute, please. Hello, Sarge. McCue.
Yeah, I phoned. Anything doing? All right. Thank you, Sarge. – Two Johns.
– Say, Ernie. Why don’t you take your instrument
into the library and play it. Hello. Is this the home
of Mrs. F.D. Margolies? This is Mr. McCue of the CityNews Bureau. Is it true, madame, that you were
the victim of a peeping Tom? Ask her if she’s worth peeping at. Madame, that ain’t the right attitude
to take. All we want is the facts. – Tell her I can run up for an hour.
– Tell her to come over here. We’d like to reenact the crime. Just a minute, madame. Is it true, Mrs. Margolies,
you took the part of Pocahontas in the Elks’ Pageant seven years ago? Hello? She hung up. Now, I wonder
who was peeping in her tepee. Yeah? No, Hildy Johnson ain’t ̶ Hello, Mr. Burns.
No, Hildy hasn’t shown up yet. Hello, Bensinger. I just had an interview with Williams
over in the death house. That jail…
That jail is reeking with germs. Believe me, the board of health is going to
hear about the sanitary conditions over there through my paper. It’s amazing to me that those prisoners
can live long enough to be hung. What’s the idea, Mac? – Say, is that the only telephone in this place?
– It’s the only one with a mouthpiece. How many times have I gotta tell you fellas
to let my phone alone? If you want to talk through a mouthpiece,
go and buy one like I did. Whitney 9000. The germs of the mouth are the most
contagious, the most malignant ̶ Shut up, Listerine! Whitney 9000. – What is this, a hospital?
– Yeah, Roy. How’s your pimple coming along? Hello, Sarge. McCue.
Anything doing? Say, you don’t have to use my desk
for a garbage can either. Say, how would you like to quit stinking
up this place with those antiseptics? – Anything new on the hanging, Bensinger?
– My deal, ain’t it? – Hey, Zonite!
– What is it? Question before the house. Gentleman wants to
know if there’s anything new on the hanging. – Nothing special.
– Did you talk to the sheriff? Why don’t you get your own news? Somebody oughta see the sheriff. Criminal courts press room. No, Hildy Johnson ain’t ̶ Yes, Mr. Burns, why ̶ No, Mr. Burns. Yes, Mr. Burns. Good-bye, Mr. Burns. Walter Burns for Hildy again.
Something must have happened. I’ll tell you what’s happened.
Hildy’s quit. Nerts. Hildy? Why, he can’t quit.
He’s a fixture on the Morning Post. Yeah, he goes with the woodwork. – Well, he told me he was gonna quit.
– Walter Burns wouldn’t let him quit. He’ll find a way to keep him somehow. Remember what he did to Fenton
when he wanted to go to Hollywood? Got him into a fight, then had him
thrown into jail for assault and battery. Gimme a rewrite. Well, if he ain’t quit, why ain’t he here
covering the hanging? – I wish I could quit.
– Hello, Emil. Ready? Dr. Irving Zobel ̶ “Z” for zebra, “O” for onion,
“B” for baptize, “E” for anything, “L” for, uh… “L” for, uh… Don’t tell him, anybody. “L” for Listerine. With offices at 1608 Inverness Avenue. Well, this bird was arrested tonight
on complaint of a lot of angry husbands. They say he’s been treating their wives
with electricity at a dollar a crack. – The electric teaser’s in again!
– I understand he massages them too. Well, anyway, this doctor’s
being held for malpractice and the station house is full of his
patients claiming he’s innocent. But from what the husbands say,
it looks like he’s a lothario. All right. Main 6800. Press. No, Mr. Burns, Hildy Johnson ̶ I’m not lying, Mr. Burns. Walter acted like
he was having a hemorrhage. – Did you find Johnson, sir?
– No. – Then I’ll have to put another man on the job.
– In your hat, Duffy. I’m after that bunch of lily-livered,
pockmarked peanut politicians who think they’re running this town, and Hildy Johnson’s the only man
on the staff I can trust tonight. – But we have to have somebody.
– We’ve gotta have Johnson! But you haven’t got him! Butch! Butch, I want Hildy Johnson. Tell the boys of the downtown deliveries
to find him, and fast. Fifty dollars to the man
that brings him in. – Where’s Diamond Louie?
– Right there. Hey, Wishiesky! O’Rourke! Louie! Hey, Louie! – Louie, come here.
– Hello, boss. Hey, hey, hey!
Hey, where you going with that money? Don’t do that.
What’s the matter with you? Hildy Johnson is missing!
I want him! Get going! I’ll deliver him. You know what I mean? Hildy Johnson here? – He’s on the wagon!
– Well, I ain’t. You remember me.
I was here last night with Mr. Benchley. – Mr. Benchley’s still here.
– Good! Hello, Louie. Hello, baby. Hey, Dot. You seen Hildy Johnson? – I haven’t seen that newsie in months.
– No? – Hello, baby.
– Hi. Hi, Leezie. I’m looking for Hildy Johnson. – Why?
– Walter Burns wants to see him. – And I want to see Walter Burns.
– What for? Two dollars. Two dollars, please. I’m sorry. Well, darling, you’re almost mine. I’d write the Society notes to get a look at
Walter Burns’ face when he hears of this. I’d write ’em for a year to see him when
he hears I’m getting married. I’d write ’em for two years to get
a load of what he says when he hears I’m leaving town for New York. What’s the matter? So that’s why you got that ̶
Walter Burns. That’s why you’re going to marry me ̶
Walter Burns. That’s why you’re going to New York ̶
to spite Walter Burns. Honey, you’re crazy. Now listen. Dear, did you ever come up out of a sewer? Listen, honey, did you ever… Did you ever come up out of a sewer
and have the cool, fresh air hit you? Well, I did, and, honey,
you’re the cool, fresh air. You’ve made a fresh-air fiend of me, dear, and I’m not going back there
unless you send me. Then, Hildy, you go right up
to Walter Burns and resign. What, and have him get his hands on me? That’s why I been hiding out at your place ̶
to keep away from that double-crossing maniac. Tell you what I’ll do.
I’ll resign by phone. – And to get a look at that snake’s face then…
– No, you don’t. Here. What, 500? And in one bill? Uncle sent it to me for a wedding present. I wasn’t going to give it to you
until we got there. But you take it, and after you
take me home, you get the tickets. Instead of getting married tonight,
we’ll be married tomorrow. Instead of going to New York tomorrow,
we’ll go to New York tonight. All we have to do is throw the old underwear
in the trunk 24 hours earlier, that’s all. What is it, Mother? – Do you know what I think?
– What? I think you must be
a sort of irresponsible type, or you wouldn’t do things this way. Now, Mother, you stop picking on my Hildy. He didn’t do one blessed thing
to help our getting away. – You better get busy.
– Okay. That’s the dress you had on
the first night I met you. ♪ You’re the one I care for ♪ Here. Wait a minute. Was that the dress you had on
the night you said no? Come here. The movie house. This could be another
Iroquois Theater disaster. If I only had a cameraman with me ̶
a full page of pictures. Frightful carnage
snapped by the Morning Post. “Faulty fire exits execute hundreds. Exposé of theater owners started by the
Morning Post. City board to investigate.” What a chance, what a chance. Listen, I’m gonna go downtown and see
that Mother gets aboard. See you later. But, Hildy… Hello, Hildy. I’d like to have a little
talk with you for about 15 minutes. Not a chance, Walter. I’m busy. Not too busy to be playing around the
neighborhood, turning in false fire alarms. – What?
– Hello, Mac. Hello, Mr. Burns. All right, Walter. Boy, I wish I could find
the guy that did this. I’d make that box his tombstone. Aren’t you gonna ask me
how I found out where you were? Yeah, a big scoop, with everybody
in the county building working for you. – Set ’em up.
– None for me. He’ll take the same. So you’re leaving me for marriage. Why? None of your business. How’d it happen? There was a moon. Well, I guess that lets me out. I’ll give you a farewell party. Thanks. But it hurts, Hildy, your not telling a
fellow, after all I’ve done for you. You mean after all you’ve done to me. That time you sent me down in the lake
to test that trick diving suit. That suit was about as waterproof
as your straw hat. It took ’em half an hour to pull me up.
It was lucky I only went deaf. Didn’t I go to the expense of hiring an airplane
to take you up so you’d get your hearing back? To the further expense of bribing the pilot so
he’d land in the middle of a strike massacre? You scooped the whole world, made yourself
the envy of every newspaper man alive. Aw, well, it was worth it at that. Even if I did get ridden
out of town on a rail, with eight bullet holes
in a hat that cost me six bucks. – And charged on the expense account at 15.
– And got away with it. Those were the days. Well, you’ll certainly
have a lot to tell the kids. Yeah. What kids? You’re getting married. Well, why not? A guy’s gotta settle down sometime. Get a home and a wife. They say it’s kids
that hold it all together. That’s right. I never was big enough
to let a nice girl reform me so I could stay in a two-room love nest
at nights with the wife and kids while the fellas were out
having a lot of fun. Marriage does make
a respectable citizen out of a man. It must be grand. You never have to
worry about a place to go. You always know where you’re going, home. None of this idiotic
jumping around at all hours and having to be on the inside
of all the crazy excitement in this town. Dear. The 5:15 out to some quiet suburb, a home-cooked dinner
every night at exactly 7:00. And by 10:00 in bed, unless after the tapioca the wife has
some friends in for a neighborly chat. I don’t blame you, Hildy. It sounds great. Excuse me a minute, will ya? Come on, Schwartzy boy, deal ’em out.
Don’t let that deck get cold. See if you can deal me
a decent hand this time. Hello, Woodenshoes. Any news? I just been over to the death house. Did you hear what Williams said
to the priest? – Forget it!
– Yeah, I know, I know. The paper’s full of the hanging.
We ain’t got room for the ads. – What did Williams say?
– He said that he ̶ – Come on, ante up, ante up.
– I’ve anted twice already. He said to the priest
that he was innocent. He’ll start crying in a minute. Why don’t you send the poor nut some roses,
like that girl of his, Molly Malloy? Now there’s an idea. Yeah. You know,
she thinks he’s innocent too. You fellas don’t understand.
Now, I talked to ̶ Before you go on, Woodenshoes, would you mind running down to the corner
and getting me a hamburger sandwich? – Bet two.
– Three cards. Personally, my feeling is ̶ Make that two hamburgers,
like a good fellow. – Now, my feeling is…
– Yeah? …that Williams
is of the dual personality type. Yeah, I know, I know.
Like the Dolly Sisters. Yeah, that’s right.
Tell it to the Tribune. – I’ll raise you.
– I’ll raise you. What’ll you do? It’s on account of the way
his head is shaped. – It’s a typical case.
– Sure. Ask ’em to put a lot
of ketchup on them sandwiches. That beats me. I thought you fellas might be interested
in the psychological end. Make mine plain lettuce on gluten bread. Get me a sandwich too, Woodenshoes. – First one I got tonight.
– What do you got? Where? Where am I gonna get
the dough for all these eats? – Charge it!
– You’ve got a badge, haven’t ya? What’s it good for? Four hamburgers. And a lettuce. On gluten! Hello, Mr. Burns.
Why, no, we haven’t seen Hildy. – Hiya, slaves!
– Where you been? He’s got a shave! It’s Walter Burns on the wire.
Talk to him, will ya, Hildy? Tell that paranoiac
to take a sweet kiss for himself. Come on, Ernie. Sound your “A.”
♪ Good-bye forever ♪ Listen, Hildy. Will you do me
a personal favor and talk to Walter? He’s called up about nine million times. What’s the matter, Hildy?
Are you afraid of him? I’ll talk to that maniac with pleasure. Hello, Mr. Burns. What’s that, Mr. Burns? Why, your language is shocking, Mr. Burns. Say, listen, you crazy baboon! Get a pencil and paper and take this down.
And get it straight, because it’s important. It’s the Hildy Johnson curse. The next time I see you,
no matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’m gonna walk right up to you
and hammer on that monkey skull of yours till it rings like a Chinese gong! – Ouch!
– That’s tellin’ him. No, I ain’t gonna cover the hanging. I wouldn’t cover Washington crossing the
Delaware for you if he did it all over again. Never mind the Vaseline, Jocko. It won’t do you any good this time
because I’m going to New York. Ha! I didn’t tell you that, did I? And if you know what’s good for you,
you’ll stay west of Gary, Indiana, because a Johnson never forgets! And that, boys, is what is known
as telling the managing editor. – Why’d you quit?
– I’m getting married. You see those? Three to New York tonight. – Tonight?
– Yes, sir. – What do you mean, three?
– Me and my girl and her darling ma. Look! He’s in love. Tootsie Wootsie! Is she a white girl? Has she got a good shape? Does Walter know you’re getting married? Does he know? Shook hands like a pal.
Offered to throw me a farewell dinner. That’s his favorite joke ̶
farewell dinners. He poisons people at them. Gimme Tucker 2164, will ya? Yeah, he got me into Polack Mike’s,
filled me full of rotgut. I’d have been there yet
if it hadn’t been for the toilet. Can you imagine that guy, trying to break
up my marriage after shaking hands? Hello, Peggy. How are you, darling? I know, but ̶ You bet I resigned.
Right in his face. Didn’t I? The 11:18 tonight. Yeah. No. Why, the press room. Just dropped in
to say good-bye to the boys, yeah. Not a chance, honey.
I’ve got a taxi waiting. Yeah. Ten minutes. Bye-bye, honey. Hey, where’s the wedding? It’s in New York, so you guys
ain’t gonna have any fun with it. No fake warrants
or kidnapping the bride with me. Everybody’s getting this New York bug.
It’s a rube town for mine. You wanna look out, Hildy. They tell me
all those New York reporters are lizzies. Remember that one from New York
last summer, with the “doiby”? Now, there. There was a man. “Boys, listen, could any of you gentlemen
tell me where the telegraph station is?” You wanna look out, Hildy.
You’ll be talking like that. Which one of those sissy journals
you going to work for? None of them.
Who wants to work on a newspaper? Lot of hoboes, full of dandruff and bum gin
they wheedle off of aldermen. – What are you going in for, the movies?
– The advertising business. A hundred and 50 smackers a week. – What?
– A hundred and 50 what? Well, there’s the contract. Ain’t you guys got anything
better to do down there? It is 150. – You’re gonna miss a sweet hanging.
– I’m not interested. He’s going to write poetry
about milady’s drawers. Can you imagine punching a time clock, sitting around with a lot of stuffed shirts
talking statistics? Why, you’ll be like a fire horse
tied to a milk wagon. Listen to who’s talking. Journalists. Peeking through keyholes, running after
fire engines like a lot of coach dogs, waking people up in the middle of the night
to ask them what they think of Mussolini, stealing pictures off of old ladies of their
daughters that get attacked in Grove Park. Daffy buttinskies, swelling around with holes in
their pants, borrowing nickels from office boys. And for what? So a million hired girls and
motormen’s wives will know what’s going on. Your girl must have handed you that line. I don’t need anybody to tell me
about newspapers. I’ve been a newspaper man for 15 years, a
cross between a bootlegger and a galoofer. And you’ll all end up on the copy desk, gray-headed, hump-backed slobs,
dodging garnishees when you’re 90. You’ll be out in the street
the minute your contract’s up. No, not me.
My girl’s uncle owns the business. – Has he got a lot of jack?
– Choking him! What do you think he gave us
for a wedding present? A dozen doilies! $500 in cash. There ain’t 500 in cash. There it is, except what it cost
to get those tickets to New York. – Let me count that.
– No, you don’t. Boys, boys, just a minute, please. – How about a little bite?
– Scram! Jenny! Can I wash up now, please? Yes. This place is beginning
to smell like a… like an owl’s foot. You don’t want to wash up
on a night like this. I’m going away. This is a holiday.
Come on, give us a kiss. – Hildy Johnson, you keep away from me!
– What’s the matter? Ain’t I your fella anymore? – I’ll hit ya! I’ll hit ya, I will!
– Come on, Jenny. I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You and I’ll go around and say good-bye
to everybody in the building. But we can’t take this with us.
Come on, Jenny. Come on. Hey! Look! Come on, Jenny!
♪ Waltz me around again, Jenny ♪ ♪ Around, around again ♪ – ♪ Waltz me around again, Jenny ♪
– Hey! ♪ Around, around again ♪ ♪ Waltz me around again, Jenny
Around, around again ♪ Get outta here! – Look here, fellas!
– How are ya, Sheriff? – Any news?
– Who dumped that out of this window? We promised not to tell. – Who threw it?
– Judge Mankiewicz threw it. He was in here with his robes on,
playing fireman. Come on, now, fellas. I know who it was.
It was Hildy Johnson, wasn’t it? – Where is he?
– Out with a lady. I swear, I don’t know
what to do with you boys. I’ve a durn good mind to take
this press room away from you. Stop it! Wouldn’t that be too bad. The place is so full of cockroaches,
you can’t walk. Personally, I don’t give two hoots. But how do you suppose it looks
to have a lot of hoodlums yelling and throwing things
out of the window? Besides, there’s someone
in that death house. How do you suppose he feels,
listening to all this revelry? A lot you care how he feels. We’re doing everything possible to ̶ To get your whole ticket
reelected next week. Yes, when Williams drops through that
trap tomorrow, it means a million votes. Can we help it if the people rise to support this administration’s
stand against the red menace? Personified by Mr. Earl Williams, a guy
who loses the job he’s held for 14 years, joins a parade of the unemployed and, because he’s goofy from lack of food,
waves a red undershirt. Williams is a dangerous radical.
And he killed a policeman. Williams is a poor bird who had the
tough luck to kill a colored policeman in a town where the colored vote counts. ♪ And they’re hangin’ Danny Deever ♪ ♪ In the morning ♪ – You…
– Keep your shirt on, Pinky! And I don’t want to hear
anymore of that Pinky stuff. I got a name, see. Peter B. Hartman. Stop it! “Pinky.” How does that look to the voters? Like I had sore eyes or something. Just a minute, fellas. Just a minute. Now, Pete, how about the favor
that a certain party is asking? Once and for all, will you hang this person
at 5:00 AM instead of 7:00? It can’t hurt you,
and we can make the city edition. Roy, you can’t hang a fella in his sleep
just to please a newspaper. No, but you can keep postponing the hanging
so it’ll come just before the election. Yes. With this new alienist coming in,
how do we know there’ll be a hanging? – Yes.
– What if this professor finds he’s insane? Yes. – He won’t find he’s insane.
– No? No! Because he ain’t! Williams is as sane as I am. Saner. Yes. Now, here’s a “resumy” of the situation. The newspapers have got to
put their shoulders to the wheel. What do ya do, gents? They’ve gotta impress on these Bolsheviks that a death warrant for Earl Williams is a death warrant for every bomb-throwing,
un-American red in this town. This hanging means more
to the people of this fair city today… – I bet two.
– I’ll stay. Drop. That’s a statement, Jimmy. Why don’t you go home? All right, you’ll just get scooped. We’re going to reform the reds with a rope.
That’s our slogan. You can quote me if you want to.
“Sheriff Hartman pledges”… Peoria! We’ve been
printing this chestnut for weeks. – Ain’t you gonna use that?
– Sure. Give me the desk. This is Bensinger. The sheriff refuses to
move the hanging up one minute. No, I won’t. That hanging’s coming off
exactly as per schedule. 7:00 in the morning
and not a minute sooner. There’s such a thing
as being humane, you know. All right, all right.
Just wait till you want a favor. Give me a rewrite. ♪ 7:00 in the morning ♪ Hoo boy! Jake? New lead on the hanging. And don’t use Hartman’s name in this
at all. Just say “the sheriff.” Why can’t they jerk these guys
at a reasonable hour so we can get some sleep? This new alienist, Dr. Max J. Egelhoffer ̶ That’s right. From Vienna. He’s going to examine Williams
at the request of the, uh, “United Federation for World Betterment.” My. One of the biggest.
Author of that book, The Personality Gland. And Where to Put It. Bet a dime. Just autographed a copy for me. Did he bite his initials in your pants too? Wait, there’s more. That doctor’s the 14th pair of whiskers
they’ve sent in on this case. Those alienists make me sick. All they do is tickle ya,
then send ya a bill for 500 bucks. – Give me the desk.
– Here’s the situation on the eve of the hanging. Hello, this is Murphy.
More slop on the hanging. A double guard has been thrown
around the jail, municipal buildings, railroad terminals and elevated stations to prepare for the expected general uprising
of radicals at the hour of execution. Ready? Sheriff Hartman’s just put
four more hundred relatives on the payroll to protect the city
against the red menace, which is leaving Moscow
in a couple of minutes. Up a dime. Sheriff Hartman… “The sheriff” has just received four more letters
threatening his life, which he is going to answer
by a series of raids. And to prove to the voters that
the red menace is on the square, Sheriff Hartman has just written himself
four more letters threatening his life. Yes, yes, I know he wrote ’em
on account of the misspelling. – Drop.
– That’s all. Except the condemned man
ate a hearty dinner. Mock turtle soup, chicken pot pie,
hashed brown potatoes, combination salad and pie à la mode. The doomed man
ate a hearty meal as follows: “Noodle-a-zoop,
roast-a beef, sweet-a-potato, cranberry sauce, stromberry pie
and a great big hunk of pastrami.” Statement from who? The sheriff? Quote him for anything you want.
He can’t read. Kruger calling. Nothing new on the hanging. And say, Jake, get this in for me
as a big favor, will you? The whole meal was furnished
by Charlie Apfel, who, uh ̶ Apfel. No, A ̶ “A” for adenoids, “P” for psychology,
“F” for Feen-a-mint, “E” for epilepsy and “L” for, uh, uh ̶ uh, “L” for, uh… “lay an egg.” Certainly, this is Bensinger talking. The proprietor of
the Apfel-Wants-To-See-You restaurant. That’s it, yes. Thank you. Shamey, shamey! Stinky Bensinger’s
going in for petty graft again. That means a new hat for somebody. I understand that’s how
Bensinger gets all his clothes. Sure, the greasy spoon
gave him that overcoat when George “Kid” Cukor swung. If they ever stop hanging people,
he’ll probably go naked. Why don’t you
make a poem out of it, Roy? Hello, Molly.
…oh. There’s a gleam in her eye. Don’t look at me, baby.
I didn’t say a word. Hello, kid! How’s the old tomato can? Sure’n how are youse, Molly? – Been looking for you tramps.
– Those were swell roses you sent Earl. What do you want done with them
tomorrow morning? – A lot of wise guys, ain’t ya?
– What do you want in here? – Tell you what I think of you. All of you.
– Keep your skirts on. If you was worth breaking my fingernails
on, I’d tear your face wide open. What are you sore about, sweetheart?
Wasn’t that a swell story we gave you? Yeah. You crumbs have been
making a fool out of me long enough. She oughtn’t be allowed in here. Yesterday
I caught her using the drinking cup. I never said I loved Earl Williams and
was willing to marry him on the gallows. You made that up, and about my being his
soul mate and having a love nest with him. You’ve been sucking around that cuckoo
ever since he’s been in the death house. Everybody knows you’re his affinity. That’s a rotten lie. I met Mr. Williams just once in my life, when he was wandering around in the rain
without his hat and coat on, like a sick dog, the day before the shooting. I went up to him like any human being
would, asked him what was the matter. He told me about being fired after
working at the same place for 14 years. I took him up to my room
because it was warm there. Put that on your Victrola. Just because you want to fill your lying
papers with a lot of dirty scandal, you gotta crucify him
and make a tramp out of me. Got a match? I tell you, he just sat there
talking to me all night. – Never once laid a hand on me.
– …oh. In the morning he went away and I never saw him again
till that day at the trial. Tell us what you told the jury. Go on, laugh. I’d like to know some curses
bad enough for your greasy souls. Sure, I was his witness ̶
the only one he had. “Witness.” Yes, me, Molly Malloy,
a common streetwalker. The only one with guts enough
to stand up for him. That’s why you’re persecuting me ̶ ’cause he treated me decent
and not like an animal, and I said so. Go into your dance, kid.
This is the press room. We’re busy. – Why don’t you go and see your boyfriend?
– Better hurry. He’s left a call for 7:00 AM. It’s a wonder a bolt of lightning
don’t come down and strike you all dead. What was that? They’re fixing up a pain in the neck
for your boyfriend. What’s the idea? Now, now. Don’t get hysterical. Shame on you. Why, I didn’t say anything. A poor, crazy little guy
that never did anybody any harm, sitting out there alone, this minute,
with the angel of death beside him, and you cracking jokes! Listen, if you don’t shut up,
I’ll give you something to cry about. – Keep your dirty hands off of me!
– Come on. Outside, tramp! – Outside! Outside!
– Get away from me, will ya! You’ll pay for this
with your greasy souls! – Do you guys wanna play some more poker?
– Aw… Here now. Tickets for the hanging. – Two for each paper.
– What do you mean, two? – What do you want to do, take your family?
– Hey, listen, Pete ̶ The boss wants a couple
for the advertising department. – I promised a pair to ̶
– This ain’t the Follies. Aw, big-hearted Pinky. I’m getting tired of your editors using
these tickets to get advertising accounts. You got a lot of nerve. Everybody knows
you use them to get in socially. Yeah, you had the whole Union League Club
over at the last hanging. Trying to suck in with the swells, huh? I suppose you’ll wear a monocle
tomorrow morning. Now, boys, that ain’t the way to talk. If any of you want a couple of
extra tickets, I’ll… I’ll be more than glad to take care of you. But for goodness sake, don’t kill it. Hiya, boys. We cleaned up! Here, here, here. Get that copy
of the Morning Post out of there. Johnson, what do you mean by
throwing things out of the window? – Answer me! Who do you think you are?
– Who wants to know? You think that you and Walter Burns
are running this town. Well, I’m going to send a bill
to the Post tomorrow for all the wreckage committed
around here in the last year. – How do you like that?
– That’s swell. – You know what else you can do?
– What? Guess. You stick your nose in this building
tomorrow and I’ll have you arrested. That’s almost worth staying for. I’ll tell you something else,
and you can pass it on to Walter Burns. The Post get no tickets for this hanging
on account of the lies they been printing! Listen, you pot roast, if I wanna go to your
hanging, I’ll go, and I’ll sit in a box! No, you won’t. – I’d only have to tell half of what I know.
– You don’t know anything. I know who occupied room 602 at a certain
hotel the night before the last hanging. That hotel crack just doubled him up. – Say, Sheriff.
– Press room. Tell me, just what hotel was that? For you, Sheriff. Sheriff Hartman talking. – Hello, dear.
– Must be Irma. No, I can’t come home. I’ve got too many things to do first.
Getting ready for the hanging. Why don’t you take him out
to your house and hang him? – I’ll call you later, Irma.
– It is Irma. I gotta see an alienist. No, alienist. Not for me! For Williams! Press room. Who? Hey, Hildy. Your girl. Hello? McCue! Hello, Peggy. How are you, darling? Yay! Sandwiches! – How about my plain lettuce?
– Hamburger for me. – I ordered one, didn’t I?
– You did not. This way, Woodenshoes! Why, darling, what’s the matter? I distinctly said gluten. But listen, sweetheart, I just dropped in
to say good-bye to the fellas. Do you remember I told you? Say, will you guys talk or something? Yes, I got a taxi waiting. Hey! Go easy on that ketchup. I’m responsible for it. Listen, dear, I got the tickets
right in my pocket. Now listen, honey, if you talk like that
I’m gonna go jump in the lake. I swear I will, because I can’t stand it. – Listen.
– We’re listening. I love you. ♪ I said I love you. ♪ Aw, give him a break, Ernie! Well, that’s more like it. Feel better now? Well, smile! And say something. Well, you know what I want to hear. Come on. Tell me you love me. Well, come on! Tell me you love me! Tell him you love him
and we’ll all go to sleep. That’s the stuff! – Yeah?
– Will you wear that little blue straw hat? – Wait a minute and I’ll see.
– Are you happy now? I’ll bet you’re not as happy as I am. Well, I’ll bet you anything you want. All right, darling. I’ll be there in five
minutes. Really, this time. Bye-bye. Hildy, here’s Walter again.
Tell him to give us a rest, will ya? You’re making a nuisance out of yourself!
What’s the idea of calling up all the time? No, I’m through with newspapers! Who cares what you think of me? I’m going to
New York tonight, right now, this minute! You… Hey! – Have you gone screwy?
– Hey, Pinky! Stick that among your souvenirs! Hildy, you’ll get us
in an awful jam! If Walter calls up again, tell him to put it
in writing and send it to Hildebrand Johnson, Waterbury-Adams Corporation,
735 Fifth Avenue, New York City. – Please, Sheriff.
– Huh? Please. Excuse me, Professor. I ain’t afraid to die. I ain’t afraid. – Don’t work too much the first day, kid.
– Good-bye, “Yonson.” I’ll drop you a line
and let you know what Walter says. So long, Hildy! Be careful of that
treacherous New York weather, Hildy. So long, tramp.
Don’t forget to send us a postal card. Drop in and see us
if you ever come back, kid. – Where’ll we see you again, Hildy?
– Riding in a Rolls-Royce, giving out interviews on “successing.” You… And now we shall reenact the crime. – Have you a gun, Sheriff?
– Huh? – A gun.
– Yes. Now, think that I am the policeman.
You understand? I am the policeman. Now, where exactly did you stand? Show me. – Hildy, I hope you got a return-trip ticket.
– You’ll be back next week. And then what did you do? Dementia praecox! Good-bye, you wage slaves. When you’re crawling up fire escapes,
getting kicked out of front doors, eating Christmas dinners
in one-armed joints, don’t forget your old pal Hildy Johnson. And as the road beyond unfolds… Spread out, you fellows! – It’s a jailbreak!
– Jacobi, what’s the matter? What’s happened? Look out where you’re aiming, will ya! Watch the gate!
Probably trying the gate! – Who got away? Who was it?
– Earl Williams! Earl Williams? Hurry! Hurry up! This is important! – Gimme the desk!
– Jailbreak! Call you back! – Earl Williams just escaped!
– Call you back! – I don’t know yet!
– Look out! – Williams just went over the wall!
– Look out! Give me Walter Burns, quick! Hello, Walter? Hildy. Get this! Earl Williams just lammed
out of the county jail. Yep. Yep! Yep! Don’t worry, Walter!
I’m on the job! Right! Hey, Jacobi! Five minutes’ talk with me
will get you 260 bucks! Endicott. No, no, I tell you, no one knows
where he got the gun. He ran up eight flights of stairs to the
infirmary, got out through the skylight. He must have slid down
the rain pipe to the street. – Murphy. Give me the desk.
– No, no one knows where he got it. – Call you back.
– No clue yet to Earl Williams’ whereabouts. The crime commission is offering $10,000
reward for the capture of Earl Williams. Call you back. Hello. Here’s a feature for you. Tear bomb. Yeah, a tear bomb. Criminals cry for it. If the mayor wants me,
he knows where I am! This bomb went off accidentally in the
hands of Sheriff Hartman’s bombing squad. What went off? The following deputy sheriffs
were taken to the emergency hospital. A fine, fair-weather friend you are! – Benny J. Glazor.
– After all I’ve done for you. – Herman Walstein.
– Putting things like that in the paper. – Sidney Matsburg.
– That’s gratitude for you! Danny Koo. – Kruger calling.
– McCue. Give me the desk. A man answering Williams’ description was seen boarding a southbound
Cottage Grove Avenue car by motorman Julius A.Lindbergh. Sidelights on the manhunt. Yeah, Lindbergh. I thought it’d make
a nice feature on account of the name. Mrs. Richard Watts Jr.,
age 55, scrub lady, while at work scrubbing the eighth floor
of the Commerce Building, was shot in the left leg by one of
Sheriff Hartman’s special deputies. I’ll rush right after it. – There goes another scrub lady.
– Any dope yet on how he got out? The sheriff let him out
so as he could vote for him. Where do you suppose
Williams got that gun? Give me Walter Burns, quick! Hello, Walter? Hildy.
I just got the whole story from Jacobi. – Exclusive?
– Right. And it’s a pip. Only get this: it cost me 260 bucks, see. – Don’t waste time. Give me the story.
– All right. I’m telling you. I had to give Jacobi all the money I had.
It wasn’t exactly mine, and I want it back. – How’d he get the gun?
– Did you hear what I said about the money? – Yes. Now, go on.
– All right. Boy, it’s the jailbreak of your dreams. This profound thinker from Vienna
decided to make Williams reenact the crime. – Well? Well? Well?
– Well, I’m coming to it! Will you shut up? Of course, he had to
have a gun to reenact it with. – And who do you suppose supplied it?
– Who? Peter B. Hartman. “B” for brains. No, I’m not kidding. The sheriff gave his gun to the professor,
the professor gave it to Earl, and Earl shot the professor
right in the belly. The professor’s in the hospital, Williams
has evaporated and the sheriff’s gone nuts. Ain’t it perfect? – Fine work, Hildy.
– Save the violets. I want that money, 260 bucks. No, I tell you, I’m not gonna cover
anything else. I’m going away. Listen, that’s the money
I gotta get married on. I just did this as a personal favor. I gave Jacobi all the money I had on me,
and I want it back! When will you send it over? – Right away, Hildy.
– Tell him to hurry. I’ll wait for him here. Hello, Peggy. How are you, darling? What was that? I was just telling Walter
I was all through, that’s all. You haven’t done something
foolish with our money? No. Then I think I’d better
take care of it from now on. Listen, sweetheart, everything’s
going to be perfectly all right. – Then you haven’t got it.
– Well, no, not right now. But he’s going to send it over. Walter,
I mean. The boy’ll be here any minute. Walter. Hildy! Aw, listen, sweetheart, I wouldn’t
have had this happen for the world. – But this is what happened ̶
– I know. Well, I can’t tell you if you won’t listen. I had to give Jacobi the money so he
wouldn’t give the story to the other papers. Every time I’ve wanted you for something ̶ my birthday, New Year’s Eve,
when I waited up till 5:00 in the morning ̶ Well, I know, but a big story broke. It’s always a big story. The biggest story in the world. And the next day
everybody’s forgotten it, even you. What do you mean, forgotten? That was the Clara Haman murder
on your birthday. It won’t hurt to wait just a few minutes. And
the boy’s on his way with the money now. Mother’s downstairs in a taxicab. I’m just ashamed to face her. If she knew about that money ̶ It’s all we’ve got in the world, Hildy. We haven’t even got a place
to sleep, except the train. Listen, honey, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You and Mother have the baggage checked.
There are the tickets. You mean you’re not coming? Why, yes, I’m coming.
I’ll meet you at the information booth. It’s all that Walter Burns.
You simply can’t resist him. Him? I wouldn’t raise a finger
if he was dying. – McCue talking.
– Hello, Mac. Dear, this is Mr. McCue.
Mac, this is my girl. Pleased to meet ya. Here’s a feature on the manhunt
that’ll knock you right on your ̶ – Excuse me, miss.
– Wait a second. Mrs. Phoebe DeWolfe, 861 and a
half South Euclid Street, colored. Well, she became the mother
of a pickaninny in a patrol wagon with Sheriff Hartman’s rifle squad
acting as nurses. You should’ve seen ’em, miss. I’m gonna put our
things in the car, dear. Well, Phoebe was walking along the street
when all of a sudden she began ̶ Right. So the police coaxed her into the patrol
wagon and started a race with the stork. When the baby was born they examined him
carefully to see if it was Earl Williams, who they knew was hiding somewhere. They named the baby Peter Hartman DeWolfe
in honor of the sheriff. And they all pitched in a dollar a piece on account of it being
the first baby ever born on a manhunt. Wait a minute. Here’s the mayor himself. – Maybe there’s a statement.
– Don’t pester me now, please. – I got a lot on my mind.
– His Honor won’t say anything. – Have you seen Sheriff Hartman?
– No. What effect’s this jailbreak
gonna have on the colored voters? Not an iota. In what way can
an unavoidable misfortune of this sort influence the duty of every citizen,
colored or otherwise? Your Honor, tell me,
is there a red menace or ain’t there? Hartman, I’ve been looking for you. – So have we.
– What’s the dope, Pinky? – Who engineered this getaway?
– Just a minute, fellas. – We’ve got him located.
– Williams? – Where?
– Where he used to live. The rifle squad is just starting out.
You can catch them if you hurry. Pete! I want to talk to you. I haven’t got time, Fred, honest.
I’ll… I’ll see you after. Pete! Did you actually give Williams that gun? Well, the professor asked me for it. I thought it was for something scientific. Pete, I… Kruger calling. Here’s a red-hot statement
from the governor. The governor claims
the mayor and the sheriff have shown themselves to be a couple
of eight-year-olds playing with fire. Quote him as follows. “It’s a lucky thing for the city
that next Tuesday is election day, as the citizens will thus be saved the expense
of impeaching the mayor and the sheriff.” That’s all. Hi, Your Honor. Pete, I’ve got a mighty
unpleasant task to perform. Fred, you’re just gonna get me rattled. I’ve already sworn in 400 deputies. Do you want to bankrupt
this administration? Well, I’m getting them
for only $12 a night. Twelve dollars for those
rheumatic uncles of yours, out there shooting up everybody
they can see for the fun of it? But, Fred! Pete, you’re through. Now, don’t appeal to my sentimental side. I don’t know what to say, Fred. A thing of this kind almost ruins
a man’s faith in human nature. – Pete.
– But our families, Fred. I’ve always looked on Bessie
as my own sister. If there was any way out… But there is a way out. Just give me a couple of hours, will ya? Hello. 400 suppers? Nothing doing.
This is a manhunt, not a banquet. That $12 covers everything. That gives you an idea
of what I’m up against. We’re up against a lot more than that
with that nutty slogan you invented ̶ “Reform the reds with a rope.” There ain’t any reds and you knew it. Well, why go into that now, Fred? The slogan I had was all we needed to win ̶
“Keep King George out of our city.” Is Sheriff Hartman in there? It’s for me. I’m Sheriff Hartman. You looking for me? You certainly are a hard man to find. – Huh?
– I been… What do you want? I’m a messenger at the state house. – This is from the governor.
– What’s from the governor? The reprieve for Earl Williams. – For whom?
– Earl Williams. The reprieve. The governor gave me his word of honor
that he wouldn’t interfere two days ago. And you fell for it. Pete, it frightens me
what I’d like to do to you. Here’s what it says… He’s gone! Was there anybody here for me,
Woodenshoes? – No, Mr. Johnson.
– The double-crossing louse. Now, it’s all right. D-Don’t worry. We just want to ask you
a couple of questions. The trouble is, nobody’s
using the right psychology of… – You got 260 bucks?
– No, sir. But I got a way of making it, and more. – Cherchez la femme.
– What? Who is it that’s been defending Williams,
hanging around him? I ain’t got time for that drip. I gotta get
260 bucks in the next five minutes. It’ll take longer than five minutes
to get it. I know where Williams is. Sure! He’s getting his head blown off by the
rifle squad. But that don’t get me my dough. – He’s with that girl, Molly Malloy, that’s where.
– Aw, shut up. Remember. You never delivered this. You got caught in the traffic or something. Now, d-don’t let anybody see you. Yeah, but how am I going to know? Come and see me at my office tomorrow. What’s your name? Pincus. All right, Mr. Pincus. All you’ve got to do is to lay low
and keep your mouth shut. Here. You go to this address. It’s a nice, homey little place, and, uh,
you can get anything you want. Tell them Fred sent you. Okay, Fred. Can you imagine, Woodenshoes? This time
tomorrow I’d have been a gentleman. – At last, Louie! Have you got the dough?
– Huh? – She sent him a lot of roses, didn’t she?
– Yeah. Stick your roses. Come on, Louie. Give me the dough.
I’m in a hurry. – I’ll bet you I’m right.
– You… No, not you. – What are you talkin’ about?
– Didn’t Walter send you over here? Sure. In case you need any help.
You know what I mean? Yeah, but the 260 bucks. – What 260 bucks?
– The money I spent on the story. Walter promised to send somebody,
but I can’t wait, so ̶ – So what?
– You always got a lot of dough on you. – So you want from me, huh?
– Yeah. Well, I don’t know. That’s a lot of money.
You know what I mean? Listen, my whole future’s
depending on this. My girl’s waiting at the train.
We’re going to New York tonight. I’ve only got 15 minutes. If you promise
to give me this, Louie, I swear that I’ll ̶ Walter, he’s gonna give to me the works
if I help you to run out on him. He knows I’m goin’. He gave me permission. I
just did him a swell favor. We’re pals again. – Yeah?
– Yeah! Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do with you. – I’m gonna take the chance.
– That’s the stuff! I’ll write you a note.
Give it to Walter and get the dough. – You’re a white man, Louie.
– I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll give you 150 bucks for the debt. Hey, wait a minute. – That’s takin’ advantage.
– Well, it’s the best what I can do. – I lose almost a hundred bucks that way.
– Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. That’s 110 you lose. Say, Louie, give me 200, will ya. 150. All right. Give me the dough. Hey, look. What it says on there? Read it, you mug! Sure. That’s right. Well, good-bye and good luck. I’m gonna look you up in New York
if there’s anything wrong with this. You know what I mean? Ten, 20, 30, 40 ̶ Ten, 20, 30, 35… Ten, 20, 30, 40 ̶ Ten, tw ̶ Anyway, I’ll get out of this place. They’re after me with searchlights. Put down that gun! It ain’t loaded.
I fired all the bullets already. Holy… I surrender.
I couldn’t hang on that roof any longer. I ain’t afraid to die. I was tellin’ the man that
when he handed me the gun. Waking me up in the middle of the night, talkin’ to me about things
I don’t understand, callin’ me a Bolshevik. I’m an anarchist.
It’s got nothing to do with bombs. It’s the philosophy
that guarantees every man’s freedom. And all those poor people
being crushed by the system. And the boys… The boys
that were killed in the war. And in the slums,
all of those slaves to a crust of bread. I can hear them crying. – Shut up a second, will you.
– Go on. Take me and hang me! I’ve done my best! Give me Walter Burns, quick. Right. Hello. Hello, Peggy. Listen, have a heart. Something terrific
has happened. Hold the line, dear. Hello, Walter. Hildy. Come over here
right away. Wait a minute. Listen, Peggy. Don’t bawl me out.
I’m in a terrible jam. Hold the line, dear. Walter. Get this. I can only say this once.
I just captured Earl Williams. Yeah, here in the press room. What?
Honest to… Come over here. I need you. Now, listen, dear, don’t start to cry
or I can’t tell you. Get this. I just captured Earl
Williams, the murderer. Please don’t tell anybody.
I know, but I can’t ̶ Don’t you realize this is the greatest
thing that’s ever happened in my life? Dear, listen! Honey, pl… Wait a minute, Molly! They got him surrounded someplace.
Gonna shoot him like a dog. If you’re smart, you’ll get outta here.
They’re looking for you too. Tell me where they’ve gone. I ain’t
afraid of them, the yellow murderers. Lincoln. Lincoln and First. Well, for… – Who is it?
– It’s me. I got a clue. I’ll be right with you, Woodenshoes.
Get back in there. – What is this, a double-cross?
– I’m trying to save him. – This is very important.
– It’s a cop. Keep him quiet. I’ll get rid of him. Hello, Woodenshoes. – Thank you for the roses, Molly.
– How’d you get here? I came down the rain pipe. I didn’t mean
to shoot him. I don’t know what happened. But you can’t stay here. They’ll get you. I don’t care anymore. Well, you’ve gotta hide. – The rats.
– No. Don’t do anything. I’m ready to go. I don’t care. It’s better to die for a cause than
the way most people die, for no reason. You won’t die. They’ll never get you. I ain’t important. It’s humanity that’s important. Like I told you, Molly,
humanity is a wonderful thing. No, it ain’t. They’re just dirty murderers. Look what they’ve done to you. And to me. That’s… That’s because
they don’t know any better. You’re too good for ’em, that’s why. You’re good too. – Me?
– Yeah. I think you’re wonderful. I made out a statement today
and left it with the warden so that when I was dead
people would understand what I meant. There was a lot about you in it. I said you were the most
beautiful character I ever met. Yeah? So this is the time for you
to print my theory of crime prevention. Sure. Okay, run along
and write it out for me. And hurry up, will ya! – Get back in there. The fellas are coming.
– They’ll find him. There’s no place else! – Shh!
– Who locked the door? Coming, Mike! He’s gotta get back in there.
Wait a minute. I got an idea. Get in this desk. What’s going on in there? – What good will it do?
– We’ll get you out in ten minutes. Open up in there, will you? All right, all right! – Go on! Please!
– They’ll find me anyway. I’m coming! – Keep quiet. Don’t even breathe.
– I’ll be right here. I won’t leave you. Hey! What are you tryin’ to do?
Kick down the building? – Kind of exclusive, ain’t you?
– Molly! – I beg your pardon.
– City desk. – What’s the idea of locking the door?
– I was interviewing her. – The desk. What was he doing to her?
– With the blinds down! – You fellas don’t understand.
– You still here? Boy, some Halloween going on out there. They got the whole police department
standing on their ear. Hello, Murphy calling. Give me the desk. – Any news?
– I never was so tired in my life. They surrounded the house,
but Williams wasn’t there. – No luck on Williams yet. Call you back.
– What a chase! Did you miss your train? Kruger calling.
I’m out with Sheriff Hartman’s deputies. Yeah, I’m in a drugstore. Well, call me back if you don’t believe me. Come on. Come on, operator. Fitzroy 2500. Molly, can’t you flop somewhere else? Mmm! Smell. Fleur de Floozy. Makes me passionate. Look out. She’ll start bawling again. – Why don’t you let her alone!
– Say, when did you two get so chummy? Told us he was interviewing her. – Are you back on the job again?
– Aw… Hello, Sarge. McCue. Anything doing? – You still here?
– Trying to hang something on us, if you ask me. I’m waiting for Walter. Promised to
send a guy over with some dough. Hey, this looks good, an old lady
just phoned the detective bureau and claims Earl Williams
is hiding under her piazza. Tell her to stand up. Aw, now, just the same, fellas,
that sounds like a pretty good tip. Shall we go out after it? – Say, I’ll cover this end for you.
– Don’t let’s do any more going out. – Who pulled the shades down?
– Molly likes it that way. Hey, I got a hunch Williams ain’t
anyplace they been lookin’ for him. – He might be right here in this building.
– Sure! Hanging around like a duck in
a shooting gallery, I suppose. Bright guys! Now there’s the skylight he got out of. But how could he get
from there to the ground? I’m pretendin’
there ain’t no Earl Williams. Look, he could have jumped over to
this roof, that’s only about four feet. Once he got on this roof, he could slide down
the rain pipe and come in any of the windows. Well, if the story’s going
to walk right in the window… Well, the masterminds at work. Why don’t all you guys go home?
Williams’ll probably call on you. There must be something to what Ed says,
or they’d have nabbed Williams by now. The whole city’s inside out
looking for him. Well, if he came in this building,
it’s a cinch he’s still here. There hasn’t been a chance for a flea
to get through those cops downstairs. Unless it’s one
that fell off of the sheriff. What’s happened? You still here, Johnson? I thought you were going to New York. Is that the only place
you can find to sit in? This chair and this desk are my property, and I’m not going to have
anybody using them, anybody! – What are you looking for, Roy?
– I forgot my aspirin. You don’t want to use aspirin.
It’s bad for your heart. – Is it really?
– Yes. I’ve felt little palpitations
every time I use it. – What’s the matter, Roy? You sick?
– Sick? If I haven’t got the drip coming on,
I miss my guess. Get some Tonsiline. – Tonsiline.
– Yep. Never heard of it. Is it any good? It’s great.
It broke my cold up in five minutes. – Five mi… Five minutes?
– Five minutes! – What’s the name?
– Tonsiline. “T” for taffy, “O” for ox, “N” for… nuts.
Get the Tonsiline. I know how to spell it. – Any drugstore?
– Any drugstore. I’ll get me some. That drinking cup. Wish Walter’d get here with my dough. Hey, speaking about dough, there’s
a ten grand reward for this guy Williams. Let’s get the cops and search the building.
What do you say? Wouldn’t it be funny
if we found him here in the building? Supposing he is here in the building. The cops
would grab the reward. We wouldn’t get a smell. – That’s right.
– We’ll all grab a floor! Whoever gets him, we split the reward. I’ll stay here. I don’t know about that.
Getting my sunset blown off. Well, what else is it good for?
Besides, he can’t hurt anybody. Aw, come on, Mac. Well! – Hello, Mother.
– Don’t you “Mother” me. If you’ve got anything to say for yourself after
keeping us at that station all this time, you come downstairs and say it to Peggy. – Tell Peggy I’ll be there in five minutes.
– No, sir. – I don’t move out of here without you.
– But I told Peggy ̶ I know.
Some gibberish about a murderer. N-No, I ̶ I don’t care if you did catch him.
You come with me this minute. – I knew something stunk around here.
– Who says he caught him? – What do you mean, he caught a murderer?
– I didn’t say anything of the kind! – Yes, you did!
– He never told her that! No, I said I was trying to save him.
You see, Mother? You got it balled up. – How do you know he didn’t?
– Let go! Hildy and she were here together. Yeah! – She’s the one that knows.
– What do you mean? Cherchez la femme! – Where’s Earl Williams?
– How should I know? Where is he? Who you holding out on?
Come clean before we knock it out of you. – Sock him, Jimmy!
– Who you tryin’ to cross? Wait, you stool pigeons! He doesn’t know where Williams is.
I’m the one that knows. – What do you mean, you know?
– Go find out, you heels. You don’t think I’m gonna tell! – We’ll make you.
– Let her alone. She’s goofy. She ain’t too goofy
to know where Williams is. – Look out! Close that door!
– No, you’re not gettin’ out of here. – Now, where is he?
– Where you hiding him? I ain’t gonna squeal! I ain’t gonna! You gotta tell,
or we’ll shake it out of ya. Wanna have us call the cops
and give you the boot? Come on, Woodenshoes. Slap it out of her. Where is he? Before I hurt ya! Don’t you come near me, you kidney foot! Keep away. Keep away from me!
I’ll knock your heads off! – Put down that chair!
– Get around! Get on the side of her! No, you don’t!
You’ll never get it out of me! I’ll never tell! Never! Grab her! – Take me out.
– Carl, Carl! Get a stretcher! – She’s moving. She’s alive.
– Stand back there. Don’t touch her. – Get the cops, Woodenshoes.
– Come on, fellas. – What is it?
– Aw, gee, the poor kid. – What happened?
– Fell out a window. She’s breathing! Give her air! – Walter, did you see that?
– Yes. Where is he? – She jumped out of the window.
– I know. Where is he, I said? – Anyway, she ain’t dead.
– Come to, Hildy. – Where have you got Williams?
– What? He’s in the desk. That poor kid. – Let me out! I can’t stand it!
– Keep quiet. You’re sitting pretty. – What’s the matter?
– Get back! – That’s my girl’s mother!
– What are you doing? – Shut up!
– I won’t shut up. That girl killed herself. You’re doing something wrong.
What’s in there? Louie, take this lady over
to Polack Mike’s and lock her up. And see that she doesn’t
talk to anyone on the way. – What’s that? What’s that?
– Take her out the back way. – Tell Mike it’s a case of delirium tremens.
– Walter, this’ll get me in a terrible jam. – Sure. Anything you say, boss.
– Don’t worry, Mother! This is only temporary! – Where do you think you’re going?
– I’m gonna get my girl! Your girl. What are you,
some puling college boy? Why, in time of war you could be shot
for what you’re doing! For less! Screw! There’s your story!
Smear it all over the front page! Earl Williams caught by the Morning Post!
And take all the credit! I covered your story,
and now I’m getting out! Why, you drooling saphead!
What do you mean, a story? – You’ve got the city by the seat of the pants!
– I know, but ̶ You know.
You’ve got the brain of a pancake. Listen, if I didn’t have your interest at heart,
would I be wasting time arguing with you now? You’ve done something big.
You’ve stepped into a new class! We’ll make such monkeys
out of those ward heelers that nobody’ll vote for them,
not even their wives! – Expose ’em, huh?
– Crucify ’em. We’re gonna keep Williams under cover
so the Post can break the story exclusive. Then we’ll let the governor in on the
capture and share the glory with him. – I see. I see!
– You’ve kicked over city hall like an applecart. You’ve got the mayor and Hartman
against a wall. You’ve put one administration out
and another one in. This isn’t a newspaper
story, it’s a career! And you stand there
bellyaching about some girl. Well, I wasn’t thinkin’
about it that way, I guess. – We’ll be the white-haired boys, won’t we?
– Why, they’ll be naming streets after you. Johnson Street! You and I and the governor
are gonna run this town. – But we can’t keep Williams here.
– I’m gonna take him over to my private office. – Which is our phone?
– That one. How? They’ll see him. – Not if he’s inside the desk. We’ll carry it.
– You can’t! It’s swarming with cops outside! We’ll lower it out of the window with
pulleys. Hildy, start pounding out a lead! – How much do you want on it?
– All the words you’ve got. – Where’s some paper?
– Give me Duffy! Hello! – Can I call the mayor an animal at bay?
– Call him a love-child if you want. Duffy! How about the time he had
his house painted by firemen? Give him the works! Hello, Duffy. Get set. We’ve got
the biggest story in the world. Earl Williams caught
by the Post. Exclusive. Sent word down to Butch McGuirk. I want ten huskies to lam right over here ̶
press room, criminal courts building. Butch’ll get that desk out.
Nothing’s ever stopped those boys. – What if they start shooting?
– Fine. Now, listen, Duffy, I want you
to tear out the whole front page. That’s what I said ̶
the whole front page, out. Johnson’s writing the lead. – Hildy!
– What the devil do you want? – Hildy!
– Stick the Chinese earthquake. Miss, you can’t come in here. Wait a
minute, Duffy. Look here, little girl. You’re doing this to him.
He was going and you stopped him. Now, listen, dear.
Something terrific has happened. – I was going to tell you, but I couldn’t.
– Tell her nothing! She’s a woman, you fool! – I’m not going to let you do it.
– Holy jumping ̶ – This is the biggest chance of my life.
– Keep quiet! – You don’t want to marry me, that’s all.
– That isn’t true. You won’t listen. You say I don’t love you. You
know I’d do anything in the world for you. Junk the League of Nations! Spike it! You never intended to be decent
and live like a human being. – You were lying all the time.
– All right then, if that’s what you think. H. Sebastian jumping ̶
I’m trying to concentrate! I see what you are now.
Just a bum, like him. Sure, that’s what I am! No, leave the rooster story alone ̶
that’s human interest. You’re just a heartless, selfish animal
without any feelings. – It’s all your fault.
– Shut up, will you? – Let me talk to Butch.
– That’s what I am… a bum without any feelings. – That’s all I ever want to be.
– Then get hold of Butch as fast as you can! You never did love me,
or you couldn’t talk to me that way. If you want me, take me as I am instead of
trying to make a floozy out of me. I’m no stuffed-shirt writing peanut ads.
I’m a newspaper man! Let it come, kid, fast. Get back in there, you mock turtle! Hello, Duffy? The edition gone in yet? Well, don’t! Never mind the mail trains! You’re not working for the advertising
department! Keep on this wire! Aw, nuts! Let me go. Let me out of here! Duffy. Duffy! I told him to stay on this phone. Now the moon is out. Fine. Three taps is me. Don’t forget. You’re sitting pretty now. Got enough air? That better? Lam into ’em, Hildy.
Every punch below the belt. Hello? Duffy, where have you been? Never mind your diabetes!
Keep on this phone! Listen, did you impress it on Butch
to take a taxi, that every minute counts? You did? All right. – Duffy’s getting old.
– Where is Butch? – He’s on the way.
– Better hurry. The fellas’ll be coming back. How is she? Don’t know yet. What’s your lead, Hildy? “While hundreds of Sheriff Hartman’s
paid gunmen stalked through the city, shooting innocent bystanders,
spreading their reign of terror, – Earl Williams was lurking less than 20 yards…”
– No. That stinks. Aren’t you going to mention the Post?
Don’t we take any credit? – I got that in the second paragraph.
– Who’s going to read the second paragraph? Fifteen years I’ve been telling you
how to write a newspaper story. Have I gotta do everything?
Get the story? Write the story? Listen, you crazy baboon. I can sneeze
better newspaper stories than you can write! You ought to be back chasing pictures.
You were good at that. You ungrateful windbag. Who wrote the
Fitzgerald confession? Ruth Randall’s diary? How about the Dayton flood?
Even the telegraph operator was crying. Make me cry now. Duffy, what’s the name of that religious editor
of ours? The fellow with the dirty collar? Sipper-what? Well, tell Sipperly
I want to see him right away. – You know what I’m gonna do?
– Yeah. Talk yourself to death. Yes. I’m going to get Sipperly
to make up a prayer for our fair city in eight-column, Old English boldface,
right across the top of the paper. “Our Father, there were 421 murders
in this, our fair city, last year.” All in religious lingo, see? “Our Father.” What a prayer. – What an idea.
– Mm-hmm. You better pray that desk
will float over to your office. Wait. Wait, wait. I’ve got an inspiration. Here’s your lead.
Take this down just as I say it. Someday you’re gonna do that
and I’m gonna belt you in the jaw. The Post again rode to the rescue of the city
last night in the darkest hour of her history. Earl Williams ̶
Earl Williams, the Bolshevik Tiger, who leapt snarling from the gallows
upon the flanks of the city, was captured ̶ – I gotcha, I gotcha!
– Go on from there. – Who’s that?
– Who’s that? What’s the idea in locking this door? That’s Bensinger.
That’s his desk. – What’s his name?
– Bensinger, of the Tribune. – I’ll handle him. The Tribune, eh?
– Come on, come on, come on, come on. What’s the idea of locking that door?
Haven’t you any better sense? This isn’t a private office
and you ought to know better. Mr. Burns. – It’s quite an honor having you over here.
– Hello, Bensinger. If you’ll excuse me, please ̶ Quite a coincidence, my running
into you tonight. Isn’t it, Hildy? – Yeah.
– Well, how do you mean? I was just having a little chat about you
this afternoon. That’s nice. – With our Mr. Duffy.
– Really. – Nothing detrimental, I hope.
– Well, I should say not. That was one swell story
you had in the paper this morning. Did you like that, Mr. Burns?
Well ̶ – Did you like the poem?
– The poem? – The poem was great.
– Wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? Especially that 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.” – Heartbreaking.
– Isn’t it? – How would you like to work for me?
– Well ̶ – What?
– We need somebody like you. All we’ve got now are a lot of lowbrows
and legmen. Like Johnson here. Are you serious, Mr. Burns? My dear Bensinger. Duffy, I’m sending Bensinger
over to see you. – Mervyn, isn’t it?
– Roy. Roy V. Of course. Roy Bensinger, the poet.
Put him right on the staff. – What are you getting on the Tribune, Roy?
– Seventy-five. I’ll give you a hundred and a byline. Give him everything he wants. – Now hustle.
– Yes, sir. And write me a story from the point of view
of the escaped man. He hides, cowering,
afraid of every light, of every sound. He hears footsteps,
his heart going like that. And all the time they’re closing in. Get the sense of an animal at bay. Sort of a Jack London style? – Exactly!
– Yes, sir. Excuse me. I just want to
get my rhyming dictionary. – It doesn’t have to rhyme.
– Of course. I can’t tell you, Mr. Burns,
how terribly grateful I am, yes, sir. You don’t suppose there might be an opening
sometime for a foreign correspondent? I parlez-vous a little French, you know. – I’ll keep you in mind, Roy.
– Thank you, sir ̶ Thank you. Yes, sir. – Au revoir, mon capitaine.
– “Bon-jower”. No. Oh, “jower”. Yes. “White-haired mother’s tears.” Duffy, get this. A Tribune sneak is coming over
to get a job. Bensinger. The fellow I told you about. Tell him to keep busy writing poetry. No, we don’t want him. Handle him
with kid gloves till he gets through. Then tell him his poetry stinks
and kick him downstairs. Well, you double-crossing rat. That will teach him not to quit his job
without giving notice. Taxi! Taxi! The Morning Post building, quickly! I… I beg your pardon. Taxi! Tear into it!
Don’t stare like a frozen robin! You’ve just jazzed up my whole life.
That’s what you’ve done. We oughta have our plans set
when Butch gets here. Butch. He’d go through fire for me. Fine horse’s bustle I turned out to be. No, the window’s out. We’ll have them carry it
out of the building. Gee, she was the most
wonderful girl I’ll ever know. She had looks, brains, spirit, everything. – Who are you talking about?
– My girl! What do you think? Mumbling about your girl now?
You’ve got a story to write! Practically chased her out
like she was some pick-up. You acted like a man
for the first time in your life. I’ll never love anybody else. They don’t come twice like that
in a man’s life. You’ll sleep it off. Gee, when she was sick in the hospital, and you sent me on that
wild goose chase all over Kentucky, she never even complained. – Sick in the hospital.
– Well, she was! She nearly died! I see. She never complained.
She just nearly died. Gee, this time tomorrow I’d have
been on the train on my way to New York. Hildy. I was in love once. With my third wife. I treated her white. Let her have a maid
and everything. I was sweet to her. – Who wants to hear about your wife?
– I trusted her. Then I let her meet a certain party
on the Tribune, and what happened? One night I came home unexpectedly. I let myself in through
the bedroom window. End of story. I don’t want to hear about your troubles. And the very next morning, what do I find
in the Tribune all over the front page? My traction story that I’d been
fool enough to tell my wife. Yeah, you know a lot about women.
You and that stable you keep. You never met a decent woman. You wouldn’t
know what to do with a pure girl. Yes, I would. You take that back! What do you think women are? Flowers? Now, take that dame that shot
the dentist, Mrs. Vermilyea. Husband comes home, all worn out, hungry.
Takes a spoonful of soup, falls dead. Arsenic. And Mrs. Petras,
burning her husband up in a furnace. If you’d been in this business as long as I
have, you’d know what women are, murderers! Borgias! Boy, I’m a sap,
falling for your line of… Johnson Street! You’ve had a good rest. Get back
on the story. Here. You’re just nervous. Sure, I’ll take that. I’ll get stewed tonight,
and I’ll stay stewed the rest of my life. I’ll be a newspaperman
right in your class. Got my bustle in a monkey cage. Shut up, you fathead. – Who is it?
– Hello, boss. It’s Louie. – What’s the matter?
– Where’s the old lady? – What’d you do with her?
– What happened? – You been in a fight?
– Down on Western Avenue. – We was going 65 miles an hour.
– Take that mush out of your mouth! – Where’s the old lady?
– I’m-a telling you! We run smack into a police patrol.
You know what I mean? We cut him in half. – Was she hurt?
– Tell me. Where is she? I’m-a telling you. Can you imagine
bumping a load of cops? They come rollin’ out
like they were oranges! – What did you do with her?
– Search me. When I come to,
I was running down 35th Street. – You were with her in the cab, weren’t you?
– Yeah, was I. The taxi driver, he got knocked cold. Butterfingers. I give you an old lady to take
somewhere and you hand her over to the cops! What do you mean, I hand? The police patrol was on the wrong side
of the street, and there you got it. And now everything’s fine. She’s probably
squawking her head off in some police station. I don’t think she’s talking much.
You know what I mean? – Don’t tell me. Was she killed?
– Was she? Did you notice? Say, with that rap what I got against me and
the bank job and the big blow right here, I should stick around asking
questions from a lot of cops? Sure. Dead. Well, that finishes me. That’s fate, Hildy. What will be, will be. Sure. But what am I gonna tell Peggy? – What am I gonna say to her?
– You’ll never see her again. Snap out of it. Would you rather have the old
lady bringing the whole police force here? But I killed her. I did it. What am I
gonna do? How am I ever gonna face her? Look at you. Look at me! I’m looking at you, you murderer! If it was my own mother I’d carry on.
You know I would. For the paper. – Where did it happen? I’m going out.
– Wait here. I’ll find out if everything’s all right. Western and 34th. Hello. Hello. Give me Western 4557. Who? Hello, Butch. Where are you? Hello, Mission Hospital? What are you doing there?
Haven’t you even started? Was an old lady brought in
from an auto smashup? For H. Sebastian. Butch, listen,
it’s a matter of life and death. Nobody? I can’t hear. Who? Speak up! You got what? You can’t stop for a dame now. Hello, Community Hospital? I don’t care if you’ve been
trying for six years. Butch, our whole lives are at stake. You’re not gonna let some
round-heeled blonde ruin everything? Eddie, this is Hildy Johnson. Butch, I’d put my arm in fire for you. Up to here! Now, you can’t double-cross me! She does?
All right, put her on. I’ll talk to her. Hello. Hello, madam. Now, listen, tramp.
You can’t keep Butch away from his duty. What kind of language is that? Hello. Hello! I’ll kill ’em. I’ll kill both of them. Duffy! Mousing around with some
big blonde Annie when I need him. That’s cooperation. – Duffy!
– Shut up, will you? – Are you sure? Nobody?
– Duffy! Diabetes. I oughta know better
than to hire anybody with a disease. – Louie.
– Sì? – It’s up to you.
– Anything you want, boss. – Beat it out and get hold of some guys.
– Who do you want I should get? Anybody with hair on their chest. Get ’em off the street. Anywhere.
Offer them anything. Only get ’em. We gotta get that desk out of here. Boss, the shirt off my back.
You know what I mean? Don’t bump into anything. Lafayette 2100. That dumb immigrant’ll flop on me.
I know it. Can you imagine Butch laying down
at a time like this? Come on, let’s go back to the press room. Yeah.
Ed, tell them to give us a ring there. Yeah, tell ’em to ring us
at the press room. Ring us at the press room. If Louie don’t get back in five minutes,
we’ll get it out alone. There are millions of ways. We’ll start a fire and the firemen
can carry it out in the confusion. Ring that number, will ya! Come here. See if we can move it. Hello. Is this the lying-in hospital?
Did you have an auto smashup in the last ̶ Will you come here? Well, I beg your pardon. When I’m surrounded, with my back against
the wall, you’re not gonna lay down on me. I’m going to lay down on you
and spit in your eye, you murderer! Yellow, uh? I don’t care what you think I am.
I’m going out and find my girl’s mother. You and Butch McGuirk, woman lovers! Don’t open that! – There he is.
– Say, say, Hildy. Just a minute, Johnson! – Let go of me. What’s the idea?
– What’s your hurry? – Wait a minute. We wanna see you.
– Keep your paws off me! – Hold him, boys.
– Wait a minute, Hartman, wait a minute. Who do you think you are,
breaking in here like this? You can’t bluff me, Burns. I don’t care who you are
or what paper you’re editor of. Let me go. Fellas, something’s
happened to my girl’s mother. Hang on to him, boys. – We know what you’re up to.
– Probably goin’ out to get Williams. – The door was locked.
– He and Molly were talking. I don’t know anything!
There’s been an accident! Johnson, there’s something
very, very peculiar going on here. You can send somebody with me
if you don’t believe me. I wasn’t born yesterday. Now, the boys tell me
that you and this Molly Malloy… Nobody’s trying to put anything over on you. I’m
gonna get outta here and you can’t stop me. Wait a minute. You ain’t gonna get anywhere.
He’s got the story sewed up, and that’s why… – That’s why Burnsie’s here.
– We’re on to you. Let us in on it. If you’ve any accusations to make, Hartman,
make them in the proper manner. Otherwise I’ll have to ask you to get out. You’ll ask me to what? Get out. Close that door.
Don’t let anybody in or out. – Sheriff, give him a little third degree.
– Make him talk, Pinky, and you’ve got Williams. Johnson, I’m going to the bottom of this. Tell me. What do you know about Williams? Are you gonna talk or ain’t you? – What do I know about Williams?
– All right, boys. Take him along. – I got ways to make him talk.
– Look out, you! – What’s the use of fighting, Hildy?
– Look out! He’s got a gun! Give me that. – Where’d you get this?
– Got a right to carry a gun. – Not this gun.
– I can explain that. He was having trouble on the Sprague case.
I gave it to him to defend himself. You did, eh?
Well, that’s very, very interesting. This happens to be the gun
that Earl Williams shot his way out with. Getting married, huh? Maybe Williams was gonna be his best man. That’s pretty, Hildy.
Crossing your own pals. – What do you know about that?
– Are you trying to make me out a liar? I know my own gun, don’t I? We might have known
who’d give Williams a gun. Don’t you ever make a mistake? Now we’re getting the story. Then Hildy must have gotten
that gun from Earl Williams. – Where is he? Where have you got him?
– You’re barking up the wrong tree, Pinky. I’ll give you three minutes
to tell me where he is. He went over to the hospital
to call on Professor Egelhoffer. – What?
– With a bag of marshmallows. Take a magazine along. – He ain’t there.
– Say, what about Mr. Burns? Ask the mastermind what he’s doing here. Speak up, Burns.
What do you know about this? – My dear Hartman ̶
– Can that. Come on. Where is he? The Morning Post is not
obstructing justice nor aiding criminals. – You ought to know that.
– No? Well… Johnson, you’re under arrest.
You too, Burns. Who’s under arrest, you insignificant,
pimple-headed, square-toed spy? Do you realize what you’re doing? We’ll see about that. Carl, get the mayor on the phone.
Ask him to come over here. That man there. – Mother, are you all right?
– What’s the idea here? – This lady claims she was kidnapped.
– What? They dragged me
all the way down the stairs. Just a minute, lady.
What has this man to do with it? He was the one in charge of everything. He told them to kidnap me. Are you referring to me, madam? You know you did. What about this, Burns? Kidnapping, eh? Well, it’s beyond me. Who is this woman? What a thing to say. I was standing right there
when the girl jumped out of the window. – Did you get the mayor on the phone, Carl?
– Coming right over. Now, madam, be honest. If you were joyriding, drunk
or got into some scrape, why don’t you admit it
instead of accusing innocent people? You ruffian. You unprincipled man. You… You… How dare you
say a thing like that? Aw, Mother, he’s just crazy. I’ll tell you something more.
I’ll tell you why they did it. – Come on, Sheriff. We’ve got to get bail.
– I was in here. They had some kind of murderer,
hiding him. Hiding him? In here? – Hiding him where?
– Mother! – Where was he? Where’d they have him?
– Madam, you’re a cockeyed liar. – He’s in the desk!
– Holy cats! – For the love of ̶
– Duffy! – Give me that phone!
– What a break! I thought so. – Stand back, everybody.
– Look out. He may have a gun. – Get your guns out.
– He’s harmless. Don’t take any chances.
Shoot right through the desk. – He can’t hurt anybody. You got his gun.
– Dear! Dear! – Gray-haired old Judas.
– City desk! Quick! – Close that door.
– Give me the desk. – Guard those windows.
– City desk. Hurry. – You stand over there.
– Hey! Look out where you’re pointin’ that gun! Give me Emil! – Hildy, call Duffy!
– Duffy! – No, you don’t.
– Let me have the desk! Quick! – You want to get us scooped?
– Now, then, everybody. Hold the wire. I’ve got a flash for you. – Aim right at the center.
– That’s murder! When I say three… – Hang on for a second.
– Carl. Frank. – Hold it.
– One of you stand each side of the desk. – Something coming up.
– Take hold of the cover. Hold the phone. Now then, we got you covered, Williams. I’ll have it in a minute. Ready for an emergency. Right away now. – When I say three…
– Something hot! One. Two. Up with it! Go on. Shoot me! Earl Williams was captured in the press room of
the criminal courts building hiding in a desk. Got you, Williams. – Williams found in a roll-top.
– Nabbed Williams hiding. Found Williams hiding place. Williams put up a desperate struggle,
but the police overpowered ̶ He offered no resistance. He tried to shoot it out
with the cops, but his gun wouldn’t work so ̶ Tried to break through
the cordon of police! Williams was unconscious
when they opened the desk. Hey, Duffy. The Post just turned
Williams over to the sheriff. – More in a minute.
– Put the cuffs on those two. Anonymous note received by the sheriff
led to Williams’ capture. More later. A well-dressed society woman
tipped off the cops. Call you back. An old sweetheart of Williams
double-crossed him. Following a well-defined trail of blood,
the sheriff ̶ Williams gave away his whereabouts
when he sent out for food. The sheriff is now tracing a mysterious phone
call that gave away Williams’ hiding place. – Where’s the old lady?
– Hey, madam. – Where’d she go?
– Where is the old dame? Hello, girlie. Give me Jacobi, quick. Hartman, you’re gonna wish
you’d never been born. Fine work, Pete.
You certainly delivered the goods. I’m proud of you. They look kind of natural,
don’t they, eh, Fred? A sight for sore eyes. Well, it looks like you boys stepped
into something up to your necks. Aiding an escaped criminal. And a little charge of kidnapping
that I’m looking into. That’s the jail. There must be somebody there. Hey! There’s the old lady now. Well, it looks like
about ten years apiece for you birds. Does it? You forget the power that
always watches over the Morning Post. Your luck’s not with you now. Jacobi. I caught him. Williams. Yeah, single-handed. I’m bringing him right over. We’ll proceed with the hanging
per schedule. You’ll be in office exactly two days more. Then we’re pulling your noses
out of the feed bag. Give me the district attorney’s office. I’ll tell you what you’ll be doing ̶
making brooms in the state penitentiary. Hello, D’Arrasty? This is Hartman talking. I’ve just arrested a couple of important birds
and I want you to take their confessions. Duffy! Get Clarence Darrow! All the lawyers in the world
aren’t going to help you. This is the Morning Post
you’re talking to. The power of the press, huh? Bigger men than you have found out
what the power of the press means. Presidents. Yes, and kings. Whenever you think you’ve got the Post licked,
that’s a good time to get out of town. – On a handcar.
– Whistling in the dark, eh? It isn’t going to help you this time.
You’re through. The last man that told me that was Eddie
Kane a week before he cut his throat. And I’ve got the same feeling right now that
I had five minutes before that happened. Here’s your reprieve. Get out of here! You can’t bribe me. What’s all this? Get out of here, you! – I won’t. Here’s your reprieve.
– What? I don’t want to be your city sealer. – Who is this man?
– Who is bribing you? – They wouldn’t take it.
– You’re insane! What did I tell you? The unseen power!
What’s your name? – Irving Pincus.
– You drunken idiot! Arrest that man. The idea of coming here
with a cock-and-bull story like that! It’s a frame-up! Some impostor. – Hey, wait a minute!
– Murder, eh? Hanging an innocent man
to win an election, huh? – It’s a lie!
– I never saw him before! Why, Fred! – When did you deliver this first?
– Who’d you talk to? – They started right in bribing me.
– Who’s “they”? – Them.
– That’s absurd on the face of it, Mr. Burns. He’s talking like a child. The unseen power. He’s insane or drunk or something. Since this unfortunate man, Williams,
has really been reprieved, I personally am tickled to death. – Aren’t you, Pete?
– Huh? Go on! You’d hang your mother
to win an election. That’s a horrible thing to say,
Johnson, about anybody. Now, look here, Walter,
you’re an intelligent man. Now, wait a minute. All right, Mr. Pincus.
Let’s have your story. – Well, I been married for 19 years and ̶
– Let’s skip all that. Take those handcuffs off the boys, Pete.
That wasn’t at all necessary. I was just going to. Well, what are you waiting for?
Take the cuffs off the boys. Walter, I can’t tell you
how badly I feel about this. There was no excuse
for Pete to fly off the handle. I was only doing my duty. There wasn’t anything personal, men. Why don’t you guys quit politics
and take in washing? What did you say your name was? – Pincus?
– That’s right. – Here’s a picture of my wife.
– Yeah. A fine-looking woman. Well, she’s good enough for me. Boy, I’ll bet she is. Hildy! What’s the matter?
What are they going to do? – Those reporters said ̶
– Peggy, don’t start to bawl me out now. Nobody’s going to do anything to anybody. Of course not. My old friend Walter Burns and
I understand each other perfectly, I trust. And, uh, so do I. So do you what, you hoodoo? Now, Mr. Pincus, if you’ll come with us, we’ll take you over to the warden’s office
and deliver this reprieve. But, Hildy, they said they’d arrested you. By the way, Walter, we were going
to have a little feed after the hanging, a sort of buffet breakfast. – Hartman!
– I’m coming, Fred. What do you say if we eat it now? Delicious ham and some
of Mrs. Hartman’s own preserves. Hartman! Dear. Wait till those two future pencil peddlers
read the Post in the morning. Say, Hildy, get that guy Pincus
over to the office tomorrow ̶ Nothing doing. – I’m all washed up.
– What? I mean it this time, Walter. Hildy, if I only thought you did. Peggy, if I’m not telling the
absolute truth, may I fall dead. I’m going to New York with you
if you give me this one last chance. I’m gonna cut out drinking and swearing and everything connected
with the crazy newspaper business. Honey, I won’t even read a newspaper. – I’ve got an idea.
– No. There’s nothing you can say
that’ll make me change my mind. This time I’m through, and I mean it. Peggy, I’ve got a lot of nerve
to ask you to marry me. I’m a prize package, all right. But if you’ll take me, here I am. Darling, don’t talk that way.
I want you just the way you are. Gosh, Hildy, I didn’t know
it was anything like this. Why didn’t you say something? I’m the last fella in the world would want
to come between you and your happiness. You ought to know that. I love you, you crazy mug. You’re getting a great guy, Peggy. Never mind the Valentines. Good-bye, you turkey. You’re a great newspaperman, Hildy,
and I’m sorry to see you go. If I ever come back to the business ̶
which I won’t ̶ there’s only one guy I’d work for. You know that, don’t you? Why, I’d kill you if you ever worked
for anybody else. You hear that, Peggy? That’s my diploma. Gee, Walter, I don’t know what to say except… I’m going to miss you. Same here, son. Fifteen years we’ve been
knocking around together. That’s before you were born, honey. And what jams we’ve been in. And what excitement we’ve had. Say, remember the time we hid the missing
heiress in the sauerkraut factory? Do I? Peggy, get him to tell you about the time
we stole old Lady Haggerty’s stomach from the coroner’s physician. – We proved she was poisoned.
– We had to hide for a week. – Darling.
– What? You don’t want to go to New York,
down deep. Well, I… I was just talking. I… I’d feel worse if I stayed, I guess. If I thought you were going to be unhappy ̶ I mean, if you really wanted to ̶ No. This is your chance
to have a home and be a human being, and I’m gonna make you take it. Why, I wouldn’t let him stay.
Go on, before I make you city editor. Hurry up, Peggy. He means it. Any objections to my kissing the bride? No, it’s okay with me. Go ahead, Mrs. Johnson. Thanks. What time does your train go? – There’s another at 12:40.
– New York Central, eh? Gee, I wish I had time
to buy you a present, but ̶ Wait a minute. I’ve got it. Aw, no, Walter. – You make me feel like I’m the bride.
– Shut up! It was a present from the big chief, and if you’ll look inside,
you’ll find a little inscription. “To the greatest newspaperman I know.” When you get to New York,
you can scratch out my name and put yours in its place, if you want to. You know I wouldn’t do that. Take it, Hildy. Mr. Burns wants you to. You don’t want to hurt his feelings. Well, this is the first and last thing
I ever got from a newspaper. Good-bye. I’ve always had a queer opinion
of you, Mr. Burns. I still think you’re a little peculiar, but you’re all right underneath. I mean, I think you’re a peach. So are you. You look just like a flower. Good-bye, you big baboon. Good-bye. Good-bye, Johnson.
Be good to yourself and the little girl. Same to you, and many of ’em. Duffy. Listen, Duffy. What’s the first stop
of the 12:40 to New York? That’s right. I want you to send
a wire to the chief of police there. Tell him to meet that train
and arrest Hildy Johnson. Bring him back here. Wire him a complete description. The son of a ̶
stole my watch!

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