The Silver Arrow to Pittsburgh and Chicago...
is leaving at 1:00...
from Gate A, Track 2.
Passengers for Philadelphia...
Harrisburg, Pittsburgh...
Fort Wayne and Chicago.
This train has reserved coaches...
dining cars and sleeping cars.
Designated as 314...
315, 316...
320 and 321.
The Silver Arrow...
for Pittsburgh and Chicago...
will leave at 1:00...
from Gate A, Track 2.
It's crazy how you can get yourself in a mess sometimes...
and not even be able to think about it with any sense...
and yet not be able to think about anything else.
You get so you're no good for anything or anybody.
Maybe it begins by taking life too serious.
Anyway, I think that's the way it began for me...
just before my fight with Rodriguez three days ago.
- Hello. - Hello, Davey.
Hey, what's keeping you? You're a half an hour late already.
- How are ya? - Okay, but it's gettin' late.
I hate to wait around like this. It makes me nervous.
You better hop a cab. I had some trouble with the car, and it's still tied up at the shop.
I'll meet ya over at the arena.
- Okay. See you. - Right. Bye.
- You're doing all right for yourself. - What do you mean?
- Oh, he just lives in the building. - Oh.
- He used to be a pretty good fighter. - A fighter?
Sure.
He's fighting tonight, as a matter of fact. We can watch him on the TV.
Dear Davey...
we still haven't heard from you yet this month...
and we wondered whether everything was still all right with ya.
Out here everything's about the same.
I still get into Seattle every week, and the ranch is prosperin' nicely.
Last week, I finally bought Mr. Henderson's chestnut Arabian stallion.
Your Aunt Grace's arthritis is much better.
She can even take short rides on Jumper now and then.
Well, I guess that's all now except that we miss ya a lot, Davey.
Write soon. Love, Uncle George and Aunt Grace.
... main bout brings together two very game boys--
the youngster, undefeated in 22 professional encounters, Kid Rodriguez...
and the veteran, Davey Gordon, who's emerged victorious in 88 fights--
Davey Gordon! - while losing nine and drawing two.
- Gordon's long career-- he is now 29-- - Ladies and gentlemen--
has been one long promise without fulfillment...
- your attention, please! - at least thus far.
As hard a puncher as they come-- a clever boxer--
- - he's been plagued by a weak chin...
and the unlucky knack of being at his worst for the big ones.
And tonight is a big one indeed...
with a title bout in the offing for the winner.
And now, let's take time out for a friendly word from our sponsor.
How many times have you come home in the evening and wanted to feel the--
One, two, three...
four, five, six...
seven, eight!
One, two, three, four, five...
six--
eight.
Hey, buddy!
Go on home, Gordon! You're a bum!
Go on home, Gordon!
Why don't you get lost! You're all through!
Tonight we may very well have seen ring history in the making...
in the form of the sensational young welterweight Rodriguez...
and his impressive K.O. over the experienced campaigner Gordon.
But for Gordon, tonight must come as a bitter pill indeed.
This was the fight for him to prove his glass chin had been remade into sterner stuff.
But, unfortunately for him, tonight again it was as fragile as ever.
It's a well-known ring adage that too much education spoils a fighter...
and though there are a few notable exceptions, Gordon--
Hello?
Mr. Davey Gordon, please. Seattle's calling.
That's me.
Just a moment. Your party's on the line.
- Hi, Davey. This is Uncle George. - Hey, Uncle George.
- How are ya? - Fine. How are you?
We're all fine too.
Say, how would you like to take a vacation out here...
come spend a little time with us?
The country's mighty nice this time of the year.
Ah, it's really nice of ya to ask me out, but, uh--
Look, Dave, we saw the fight on TV tonight.
- So? - Well, nothin'. We just saw it.
- It must've looked great. - Well, these things happen sometimes.
I don't know what happened, George. I had him goin'.
Forget it. Forget it. You need a vacation, and we haven't seen ya for two years.
Why don't you make a reservation and come on out?
Well, look, uh, I don't know. Uh--
Say, look, I feel a little dopey right now, George, but, uh, let me think about it.
I'll, uh-- I'll call you, all right?
Wait. You're not hurt, are you, Dave?
No, no. I'm just tired. That's all.
Good. Then you'll let us know just as soon as you can?
Sure.
- Oh. Your Aunt Grace sends her love. - Oh, tell her the same from here, hmm?
Okay. As it stands now, you let us know when to expect you.
I certainly will, Uncle George. And thanks for calling.
- It was nice hearing from you. - Take care of yourself.
- And you too. Good night. - Good night, Davey.
Go on home! You're a bum!
Go on home, Gordon!
- Why don't you give up! You're all through!
Hey! What's goin' on in there?
There you go. That's better.
Look...
if you don't mind me, uh-- if you don't mind me asking you...
what happened?
Well, about an hour ago--
Well?
What do you want?
I'm sorry.
I really am sorry.
- It really doesn't matter now, does it? - I said I'm sorry. Can't you forgive me?
- No. - Please. Gloria, please.
Go away. Get out.
Ah, it figures to be.
All my life I've always spoiled the things that meant the most to me.
All my life.
I really don't care. I just want you to get out of here.
Gloria, please, can't you understand?
If-- If only you could know how low and worthless I feel.
- I didn't even know you had any feelings. - Oh, you foolish girl.
I'm-- I'm mad about you. I want to get you outta here. I'll set you up right.
- I'll be your slave for the rest of my life. - Nothing. Nothing!
- You couldn't do anything for me. - Please. All right. Don't forgive me.
Just tolerate me and let me suffer knowing how you feel.
Can't you get it, Vinnie?
To me, you're just an old man, and you smell bad.
I'm mad about you.
I can't stand when I see those guys dancing with you.
- Every time I see it, my insides burn. - Well, you won't have to see it anymore.
Please. Please, just another chance.
- No. No chance. No nothing. - Just another chance. Please.
Let go of me, or I'll scream!
Don't think about it anymore.
Oh, he won't come back. Don't worry.
I'm so tired now.
Just close your eyes.
Don't worry about anything.
I'll sit here with you for a while.
I locked her door and went home.
But first thing in the morning, I went back across to see how she was.
My knockin' woke her up, but she was all smiles and yawns...
- and invited me in for breakfast.
Later, over coffee, she told me she had seen the fight...
and I suppose that got me started talking about myself...
about what a wash up I was and how I was going back to Seattle...
and work on my uncle's horse ranch.
But when I think back about it now...
I realize that all the time I was talkin'...
the thing that was really in my mind was to remember not to ask...
what it was her boss, Rapallo, was so sorry for.
Anyway, let's talk about you.
Like--
Who are those people in that picture over there?
And how'd you ever get messed up with that dance hall guy?
- What's the matter? - Nothing.
It's just that...
it's so funny that you should ask those questions that way--
together that way.
Why?
Well, they have both so much to do with each other.
How do you mean?
It's a sort of an involved story. Do you really wanna hear it?
If you don't mind telling me, I would very much.
I don't mind. For some reason, I feel like telling you.
I've never told anybody before.
This is my father...
and this is my sister, Iris.
But I suppose it's really Iris's story.
She was a ballet dancer, and everyone said she was very good.
She adored Daddy, and, of course, she was his favorite.
But let me start from the beginning.
Iris was eight years old.
Father was a writer with a growing reputation...
and Mother was very beautiful and very intelligent.
They loved each other much and they were very happy.
Then I was born, and my mother died on the same day.
They say Father went on a two-week drunk to celebrate the double event...
and after that, I don't think he ever thought of another woman.
Time passed, and Iris grew more beautiful each day.
She was the image of her mother. Everyone said so.
Iris was Daddy's favorite, and I was very jealous...
and maybe I began to hate her.
Daddy was good to me, and maybe he loved me a little too.
By the time she was 20, she was dancing with the Ballets Russes...
and Daddy was so proud of her.
And then I remember the day clearly.
It was my 13th birthday, Sunday afternoon.
Iris came home excited and told us of her marriage proposal.
The man wasn't bad-looking, in his early 30s and very rich.
Father knew him and liked him...
but he couldn't stop laughing when Iris told how she said no...
simply because the fella wanted her to give up her dancing and just be his wife.
She never said if she loved him or not.
Then a few months later, Daddy took sick and didn't get better.
And it turned out that he never would...
and that he would need constant medical care until the end.
"Six months to two years," they said.
Iris's salary wasn't enough...
and in two months' time, all our savings were gone.
I couldn't work. I was only 13 and still in grade school.
The next thing I knew, she married her rich suitor...
and we were all living in great style on his estate in Long Island.
Daddy had the best care money could buy...
and he seemed happy, despite everything.
Iris gave up her dancing, according to the marriage bargain...
and did little else but sit at Daddy's bedside.
Sick as he was, he always laughed a lot when they were together.
I guess I hated her more than ever now.
A year passed like that.
Her husband was a sweet man, but none of us paid much attention to him.
And by then I'm sure he knew she didn't love him...
but he never said anything.
And then one cold winter morning...
the maid woke us and said that Daddy was dead.
Iris was like a stone.
She didn't even blink.
I began to cry and shout that I hated her...
that she'd only pretended with Daddy and that she didn't ever love him.
She didn't say a word.
In his room, she stood quietly over his body for a long time...
and smiled.
Then she went upstairs to her room and put on their favorite record...
that was from one of her ballets.
She played it very loud.
A short time later, her husband found her in bed with the covers drawn up to her neck.
She'd cut her wrists, and she was dead.
She left me a note.
She said she loved me.
She was sorry for making a mess of everything between us.
A few days later I was in the city attending to some legal things...
and I happened to pass the dance hall.
The sign read: "Pleasureland. Dancing partners wanted."
I don't know what possessed me. I went up. I actually took the job.
I don't understand any part of it.
Every night I-I worked in that depraved place--
a human zoo.
I kept thinking, "At least Iris never had--
had to dance like this."
And then I started to feel less unhappy.
Come on. Let's go out for a walk.
She got dressed and we went out for a walk...
and I bought her an ice cream and saw her laugh for the first time.
I suppose we must've walked for hours, and slowly her mood changed...
and she became very happy and optimistic about life in general.
But when I told her I was planning to take the train back to Seattle the next day...
- she got serious again and very quiet.
I didn't know it then, but I was already in over my head and I couldn't have cared less.
We didn't get back until after lunch, and then in her apartment--
Something's happened.
I know.
Do you know?
Sure. You kissed me.
Is that all?
That's all I saw, and I was watching all the time.
I love you.
Love me? That's funny.
Why is it so funny? Why?
It's a mistake to confuse pity with love.
I love you, Gloria.
Lookin' back now, I really don't know what her reasons were then...
but she agreed to come out to Seattle with me.
I should've had sense enough, though, to know that it was no good...
and that she was so scared she'd grab at anything.
But I was kiddin' myself, and all I could think of was how much I wanted her.
We made train reservations and wired Uncle George to brace himself for a niece...
and then we began to get our finances together.
- Yes? - This is Louie out front.
Gloria Price just called and said I should tell you she's coming in tonight...
to pick up her last week's salary.
You there, Mr. Rapallo?
Thanks. Good-bye.
- Hello, Albert? - Hello there, Davey. How are ya?
Okay. Thanks. Uh, listen, Albert.
Have you got enough money on ya to cash my check from yesterday?
What's the rush? Bank's open in the morning.
I don't feel too good, Albert.
I think I'll go out to Seattle for a while and, uh, take stock of things.
- I'll explain it. - Wait a minute. I'll see.
Thanks. I'd appreciate it.
Okay. Come on over.
Say, uh, how 'bout, uh, Pleasureland instead?
You know that dance hall at 49th and Broadway?
Maybe around 8:00 tonight, huh?
I'll be there, but it has to be 8:15 sharp.
I'm taking my wife to a show, and I'll just about make it.
Right. I'll see you there. Take it easy.
Okay.
BALLAD]
- You still feel the same way? - Yes.
I understand you're going away someplace.
- Yes. - Where?
That's my business. I came for my paycheck.
Oh, sure.
- How much do I owe you? - For a week.
- Can't you tell me where you're going? - No.
- Will I ever see you again? - I doubt it.
- I couldn't take that. - You'll have to.
- That's not true. - Why isn't it?
I could kill you right here and now.
Oh, I don't think you will.
I wouldn't be too sure of that.
Look, Vinnie, I-- I really am in a hurry.
- For what? - Somebody's waiting downstairs.
You going away with him?
I don't have to tell you anything.
- All the same, you are, though, aren't you? - You figure it out.
- Then you are. - No comment.
Look, he's a bum. You'll spend the rest of your life grubbin' for him.
- Is that so? - Sure.
Like the man said, "Can happiness buy money?"
Well, you're a comedian too. See what I'm missing?
Get out.
I'm not asking for favors, but you owe it to me.
Get out!
Hey. Hey.
Come on. Give me back the scarf.
Come on. Come on. Hey!
Come-- Hey!
Miss, the boss says he's sorry...
and if you go upstairs, you can collect your money.
What do you guys want?
Who are ya?
Here. You want my money? Here, take it.
- Where'd you go? - Some jerk grabbed my scarf.
Did you get the money?
First he said no, then he gave me an extra hundred.
He's weird. Did ya-- Did ya see Albert?
I don't-- Somebody was here before.
I guess he got tired of waiting. We'll call him when he gets home.
We had some ham and eggs...
and took our time saying good-bye to the bright lights.
Then we went home.
Downstairs in the courtyard, I suggested that we each go and get packed...
and I'd come over when I was through.
Open up in there!
Hey, you! Open the door!
Open the door!
- Looks like he's gone. - You know where?
No, sir.
- Where's he from? - I don't know.
- When did he leave? - I don't know.
- How long has he lived here? - Oh, about a year.
Give me a hand with this drawer. It's jammed.
Yes, sir.
- Say, uh, what kind of trouble is he in? - Bad trouble.
They found his manager's body about an hour ago with his head bashed in.
Okay, let's go.
Good morning, Mr. Rapallo.
Gee, I'm sorry I missed you at the arena last week...
but, uh, well, anyway, Mr. Albert told me to tell you--
That was my manager you knocked off.
- I don't know what you're talking about. - Where is she?
- Who do you mean? - The girl! Where is she?
- I don't know. - You don't know.
I'm gonna count to three, and if you still don't know...
I'm gonna blow your brains out!
One, two--
- She's in a loft on 24th Street. - How'd she get there?
- Boys were waiting at her apartment. - Is she all right?
Yeah. Sure, she's all right.
I had to do it.
She saw the boys at the dance hall.
She was a witness. I thought you were dead.
They grabbed her and made it look like she packed up and left.
I-I thought you were dead. I didn't want murder.
- It's all gone wrong. - Get goin'.
Get 'em up.
Is that you, Mr. Rapallo?
Yes, it's me, boys.
Up! Everybody up!
Against the wall. Lean on your hands.
Come on.
- How are ya, baby? - I'm okay.
I can't get the rope.
Be careful.
You. Yeah, you.
Untie her.
Listen, Vinnie.
Don't kill me. I don't wanna die.
I'll do anything you say. Anything.
You love him though, don't ya?
I don't know. I don't think so. I've only known him two days.
Two days.
Please, Vinnie. Please don't kill me.
You said you were mad about me. Remember?
I'm just an old man, and I smell bad. Remember?
I didn't mean it.
You know I didn't mean it.
- We could go away. - Sure.
Sure. I got lots of money. We could have loads of fun someplace. Sure.
London. Paris. Sicily.
I'll do anything you want.
Maybe we could get married, settle down...
have a couple of kids.
- Sure. - Sure.
What do you take me for, a 14-carat sucker?
You and lover boy aren't gonna put me in the hot seat.
Vinnie, you liked me once. Remember? You remember how nice it was?
It could be like that again, Vinnie. It could be like that again.
- You forgettin' about him? - I don't care about him.
Look, baby. You could've had anything once, but no, you were too good for me.
So you come up to my office, and you get me mad.
So I send the boys down to work over lover boy.
So they grab the wrong guy. So he bangs his head too hard on the sidewalk.
So that makes me the sucker, huh? Not on your life, baby. Not on your life.
Hey!
Don't shoot. Come on!
Stay with her. Go ahead!
He went down there!
Be careful. It's a dead-end alley. He'll never get out.
Look out!
Get that down. Come on. Hurry!
Oh! Oh!
- What's the matter? - My leg. Oh!
- Come on! - I can't!
I got 'im.
I gotta get outta here.
- I don't see anything. Do you, Joe? - Car 14. Car 14.
Well, let's go up to the roof and take a look anyway.
When the cops came, I took them back to free Gloria.
- The guy on the roof was picked up later.
On the ride to the police station, Gloria didn't say very much.
I guess she was trying to work out in her own mind why I ran and left her alone like that.
I don't suppose she ever thought about how I might have felt...
listening to her talk to Rapallo that way.
At the station house, they separated us for questioning.
Five hours later, they chalked off Rapallo as self-defense...
and had worked a confession from the hoods in Albert's murder.
- I was free.
On my way out, the desk sergeant said Gloria had left an hour before.
There was no message for me, and I haven't heard from her or seen her since.
And now I don't suppose I ever will again.
Well, anyway, I guess the whole thing was pretty silly.
Know a girl for two days and fall in love.
So I cashed my check, sent flowers to Albert's widow...
cleaned up, and here I am.
The Pathfinder to Chicago and Seattle...
is leaving at 2:00...
West Gate, Track 13.
Passengers for Pittsburgh...
Chicago, St. Louis...
and Seattle.
This train has reserved coaches...
dining cars and sleeping cars.
Designated as 494...
- 493, 492--
491 and 490.
The Pathfinder to Chicago...
and Seattle is leaving--
Passengers for Pittsburgh...
Chicago, St. Louis and Seattle--
Davey! Davey!