All language subtitles for The.Trouble.With.Harry.1955.REPACK.1080p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

by Shilownak 09/09/2019
Shilownak@gmail.com

OK! I know how to handle your type.

Well, old faithful,
that's your shooting for the day.

If we haven't rung up
at least two rabbits,

we deserve to go home empty-handed.

Yeah, still, blessed are they
who expect nothing.

For they shall not be disappointed.

Mm. Fewer things in life give a man
more pleasure than hunting.

It satisfies his primitive nature,

striding through the woods,
picking up his kill.

Well, come on, old faithful.

There's plump rabbits
waiting for the frying pan.

If this can had four legs and a tail,
we'd be eating it tonight.

Clean through the heart.

For rice cake! I've done him in.

Cor.

A harmless pot-shot at a rabbit
and I'm a murderer, a killer.

Mother always said
I'd come to a bad end.

What in Hades were you doing here
anyway?

I can't say that I've seen you
around here before.

No. If you're going to get yourself
shot, do it where you're known.

"Mr Harry Worp,

87 Maple Avenue,
Boston, Massachusetts."

Worp, you're a long way from home.

With the looks of it, you won't
get back for Christmas, now.

We're going to have a cold,
hard winter.

Mm. You might keep here a long time,
an awful long time.

Too long for me, Harry.

Yes.

Captain Wiles?

Yes, ma'am?

What seems to be the trouble,
Captain?

It's what you might call
an unavoidable accident.

- He's dead.
- Yes.

I would say that he was. Of course,
that's an unprofessional opinion.

Yeah. Did you...
did you know him, Miss Gravely?

- No. Doesn't live around here.
- Well, he died around here.

- That's what counts now.
- Embarrassing.

What do you plan to do with him,
Captain?

Miss Gravely, without cutting the hem
off truth's garment,

I'm gonna hide him, cover him up,

forget him.

Are you never going to inform
the police, Captain?

No. Forget you saw me, Miss Gravely.

Chase it out of your mind, for
heaven's sake, it was an accident.

He was poking around the clearing
and I thought he was a rabbit or something

It was a human error.
Ah, now, please, don't...

Don't say anything to anybody,
Miss Gravely.

Do as you think best, Captain.

I'm sure you must have met
many similar situations

in your travels in foreign lands.

- Yeah, I've seen much worse things.
- I certainly won't say anything.

Much worse things.
I remember when I was on the Orinoco.

We had a Turk, a great, big Turk,
running amuck with a machete -

Captain, if I were going to hide
an accident, I shouldn't delay.

Oh. Oh.
You're right as rain, Miss Gravely.

Yes. You know something?
I'm glad I met you today.

I feel better for telling someone
as warm,

tender, understanding as yourself.

Well, on the contrary, Captain. It...

It...

I'm certainly glad
if I helped you, Captain.

Perhaps you would care to come over
for some blueberry muffins

and coffee later on,
high-bush blueberries?

Ah, well. This is certainly something
of an interesting surprise.

- And maybe some elderberry wine.
- Oh!

After all, we've been neighbours
for nearly three years now and...

we've never exchanged social calls.

You're right.
It's high time I paid a call.

- What time?
- Oh, say, early this afternoon.

I'll be there with a clean shirt
and a hungry face.

Do that.

You better be going now. Don't want
to be an accessory after the fact.

You are a considerate man,
Captain Wiles.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

We're almost there, Mommy!

Here he is, Mommy. Here he is.

- What did I tell ya, Mommy?
- Don't touch it, Arnie.

- There he is.
- No. It can't be! Harry!

Harry, thank Providence,
the last of Harry.

- Who's Providence, Mommy?
- A very good friend.

- Don't you know who it is?
- You said Harry.

- Can't you remember, Arnie?
- Why don't he get up and do something?

He's asleep.

He's in a deep sleep,
a deep, wonderful sleep.

How'd he hurt his head?

Putting it where it wasn't wanted,
would be my guess.

- Will it get better?
- Not if we're lucky.

Let's run home
and I'll make you some lemonade.

Will lemonade put me in a wonderful,
deep, deep sleep, Mommy?

No, Arnie, but it's better
than no lemonade.

- I don't understand that.
- Never mind.now you just Forget
you ever saw this man

- Is there a special way to forget?
- Just think of something else.

- I'll try not to see him tomorrow.
- That's a good boy, Arnie.

Now, let's run home
and get that lemonade.

She won't care what I do with him.

Couldn't have had more people here
if I'd sold tickets.

What's the big attraction, I wonder?

This could turn out to be
the luckiest day of my life.

I'll just wait till the whole world
comes to pay their last respects.

Sooner or later one of them has
to turn out to be the Deputy Sheriff.

# Flaggin' the train to Tuscaloosa

# Flaggin' the train that's going home

# Flaggin' the train to Tuscaloosa

# Never no more, no more to roam

# Gotta get back to Tuscaloosa

# Got a sweet gal who's on my mind

# Gotta get back to Tuscaloosa

# Back to the gal I left behind

# Got no baggage

# Just got my fare

# But all I need yes, indeed

# Is waitin' for me there
Flaggin' the train to Tuscaloosa

# Oh how I love that choo-choo sound

# Flaggin' the train to Tuscaloosa

# Flaggin' the train
that's homeward bound

# Gotta get back to Tuscaloosa

# Got a sweet gal who's on my mind

# Gotta get back to Tuscaloosa

# Back to the gal I left behind

# Got no baggage

# Just got my fare

# But all I need yes, indeed

# Is waitin' for me there #

Hello, Mr Marlowe.

Wiggy, you haven't sold a painting.
All my pictures in the same place.

So few cars. They don't... I guess
the cider takes their attention.

Cider, indeed.
Throw it away! Drink it.

- No, I hate cider.
- Not a picture sold.

I'm sorry, Mr Marlowe. Let's get
a look at your new one. Hold it up.

What good would it do? You don't
deserve to see it. How will I eat?

Mr Wiggs always used to thump
his stomach when he got mad.

He busted somethin' inside once.

You think we'd do any better
on 5th Avenue?

If there's more people there.

Oh, lots of people. Hundreds
and thousands and billions of people.

- It might be better then.
- But what sort of people, Wiggy?

What breed? I'll tell you.

They're little people,
little people with hats on.

How are your cigarettes?

I'll buy the other half tomorrow.

What does your son do with all those
old cars he always works on?

He sells 'em. Mechanical antiques.
Doesn't make much, needs the money.

Hm. Doesn't he get paid
for being deputy sheriff?

Piecework.
Gets paid by the arrest, I think.

Ah, Mr Marlowe, it's wonderful.

- I've been in a tortured mood.
- What is it?

Good old Wiggy, my sternest critic.

I don't understand it but I think
it's beautiful. Mrs Rogers agrees.

- Oh? You talk about me?
- Well, I...

She's the pretty woman
with the little boy, isn't she?

Mm-hm.
I only brought up your name once

when we were talking
about strange people.

- Huh?
- That is, strangers.

- Oh.
- People she hadn't met yet.

and What does the pretty,
little thing say about me?

Nothin'.

I think we better discuss business.
Here, my shopping list.

I'll go in and start puttin' it up.

Wiggy, how do you spell Tuscaloosa?

Sam?

- Hi, Calvin.
- You hear any shootin'?

- Nope.
- I did.

And there shouldn't be
any shootin' around here.

- Why?
- It's posted land, that's why.

- Why's that?
- 'Cause I posted it.

What's wrong with people doing
shooting now and then? Let off steam.

Bullets and guns are dangerous.
They kill things.

No one around here could hit
a freight car with a cannon.

I guess you're right, Sam.
All the same, the law's the law.

I got a mind to scout around to find
out who's shooting and level a fine.

And pick up a little piecework?

If I can do anything to make it
any harder for you, let me know.

How'd you want your bacon,
Mr Marlowe?

- What were you saying?
- I asked how you want your bacon.

Sliced.

- Where is Calvin?
- Off somewheres unimportant.

What a wonderful day.

So was yesterday, but you didn't say
anything to me about it.

What you want Calvin for?

These marvellous pictures.

Someone told me they were yours.

Why don't you sell them,
make a lot of money?

Never thought of it. I guess
I'll just have to think about it.

And that song. You sing it so
beautifully. You wrote it yourself ofcorse?

What do you want to borrow?

I just think people need encouragement
sometimes, don't you, Mr Marlowe?

- How'd you know my name?
- It's on the pictures, isn't it?

- It's not supposed to be readable.
- I can tell it's not supposed to be.

They're very professional,
don't you think, Mrs Wiggs?

Well, Miss Gravely,
all I know is nobody buys them.

Thank you for your encouragement,
Miss Gravely.

- Now I wonder how you know my name?
- Easy. Wiggy just said it.

Wiggy. What a perfectly ridiculous
little nickname.

Do you mind if I call you Wiggy,
Mrs Wiggs?

Not if you pay all your bills
on time.

Alright, Mr Marlowe,
Bacon, beans, cabbage,

sugar, salt, tea, oleomargarine.

- $1.95.
- And half a box of cigarettes.

- Ah, yes. Ten cents, two five.
- That much?

I don't seem to be able to find...

I know, Mr Marlowe, as soon as
we sell some of your paintings.

just a minut Mr Marlowe - Let me
make my position clear - Shhh.

What do you think?

I think it'll hold coffee.

Will you try it, Mr Marlowe?

Put your finger through the handle,
please.

How about the size?
What about the handle?

Hm?

I mean, does it fit?
Is it the right finger size?

It's my finger size.

- I'll take it.
- Fifteen cents.

- And the saucer?
- Ten.

- That seems a fair price.
- What's important about finger size?

I wanted to be certain
it would fit a man.

- A certain size man.
- A man?

A certain somebody is coming over
to my cottage this afternoon.

- Not really?
- For coffee and blueberry muffins.

Why, you old social butterfly, you.

Old?

That was figuratively speaking.

I think we've got
a nearsighted cider customer.

How old do you think I am, young man?

Hmmm. Fifty.
How old do you think you are?

Forty-two. I can show you
my birth certificate.

You'll have to show more than your
birth certificate to convince a man.

- What do you mean?
- You have to show your character,

the inner self, the hidden qualities,

the true Miss Gravely,
sensitive, young in feeling,

timeless with love and understanding.

I can do it!
At least, I think I can do it.

Do what?

- I'll see what that gentleman -
- At a time like this?

- Where are your scissors?
- Outside.

We're going to cut her hair.

- Hair?
- Cut it short.

Bring it up-to-date,
make a nice romantic styling,

take ten years
off your birth certificate.

- How are you fixed for ribbon?
- Should be some around somewhere.

- Powder, rouge, lipstick?
- I think so.

Nothing cheap, shoddy or obvious.

Just youth, gentility, character.

I'll go out and get the scissors.
You find the other things.

- Ah, here they are.
- Excuse me, young man, I...

Oh, well.

All right, Ernest. Let's go.

Well, always grow back, I guess.

There's Calvin.

- Is he alone?
- Yep. Guess he didn't sell his car.

Hey! Would you mind
getting out of my picture?

Next thing you know, they'll be
televising the whole thing.

Huh.

- This your body, little man?
- Don't turn me in.

It was an accident,
an accident, pure and simple.

I thought he was a rabbit
or a pheasant or something.

- It could've happened to you.
- Suppose we straighten this out?

I guess that's the only way out.

First thing I seen
when I rolled out this morning

was a double-breasted robin
drunk as a hoot owl,

from eating fermented chokecherries.

Right away I knew somebody
was in trouble.

What I didn't know
was that it was me.

The larder was empty and I got to
thinking about a toothful...

Stands to reason
that they can't touch you for it.

Nothing these days
stands to reason.

It was accidental,
an act of God, perhaps.

In a way you should be grateful
that you were able to do your share

in accomplishing
the destiny of a fellow being.

Suppose, for instance,
it was written in the book of heaven,

that this man was to die

at this particular time,
at this particular place.

And suppose for a moment
that the actual

accomplishing of his departure had
been bungled, something gone wrong.

Uh... Perhaps it was meant to be
a thunderbolt

and there was
no thunder available, say.

Well, then you come along,
and you shoot him...

and heaven's will is done
and destiny fulfilled.

Your conscience is quite clear.
You've got nothing to worry about.

Sammy, I haven't got a conscience.

And it's not heaven
that's worrying me

because I don't expect
I'll ever have to face it.

And it's none of those noble things
you were talking about, no.

- Nothing like that.
- Then what is it?

It's me. It's me that's worrying me,

me and my future life.

I know the police
and their suspicious ways.

You're guilty until
you're proved innocent.

I want nothing more to do with him.
Bury him, and be done with him.

He's no good to anyone now.

Lay him to rest.
Put him under the sod. Forget him.

I never did it and you never saw him.

Yes, what about all those
other people who saw him?

How about the woman and the boy,
Miss Gravely and the tramp and...

the man who was reading the book,
Dr Greenbow?

- How about all of them?
- Nobody was interested, I tell you.

Nobody ever cared
until you came along.

Ah, that's what you think.

Suppose someone starts to care
after you've buried him?

I can't wait for people to start
caring whenever they feel like it.

I don't want a little accident
to turn into a career.

Suppose that woman
who called him Harry...

Suppose she decides
she loves him after all.

- She was hysterical with delight.
- Hm? What was she like?

Pretty as a rainbow.
Wish I was two years younger.

- And with a little boy?
- Yeah, about four or five years old.

Hmm. It's got to be Mrs Rogers
and her son.

Why don't we slip him underground
now that you've finished drawing him?

We could discuss
the smaller details later.

I don't like it. The authorities
like to know when people die.

All right, Sammy.

Forget it. You cut off home.

I killed him
and I'll look after his remains.

What'll you do, drag him around the
countryside the rest of the day?

I'll do my best.
That's all a man can do.

If you're not careful, you will get
a murder charge lined up.

Matter of fact, I'm beginning
to suspect something myself.

There you are then. See?

If you, an artist, suspect the worst,
what will they, the police, think?

What about that envelope
with his name and address on it?

By rights, you should
mail him back home.

Have you forgotten who carries the
mail down to the station every night?

Calvin Wiggs, deputy sheriff.

Oh, yes. You're right.

I'll tell you what we'll do.
I'll tell you what.

We'll find out how well
Mrs Rogers knows this man,

and whether she intends
to notify the police of his death.

- What good will that do?
- Why, a lot of good.

If she's a distant friend of his and
doesn't plan to notify the police,

then I, personally,
will help you bury Harry.

Oh, Sammy!
You've signed on for the cruise.

What time is it?

- About noon.
- Good heavens.

I've got to go home and spruce up.
I've got a date with Miss Gravely.

Not you. You are not the one.

Oh, Sam. She could do a lot worse,
you know?

Couldn't do any better. Just think,
you'd be establishing a precedent.

I'm not establishing nothing.

I am going over for blueberry muffins
and coffee by her own invitation.

And possibly some elderberry wine.

Do you realise that you'll be
the first man to...

cross her threshold?

Oh. Oh...
it's not too late, you know.

She's a well preserved woman.

- I envy you.
- Yes, very well preserved.

And preserves
have to be opened someday. Hm?

Yes. Now, you just trot down
and see what Mrs Rogers has to say.

- How about hiding Harry first?
- Holy smoke!

Forgetting a little detail
like that could hang a man. Yes.

Oh. Oh, I beg your pardon.

I hope I never have to be
operated on by Dr Greenbow.

- Come on. Let's get going.
- Yeah.

Good afternoon.

You're beautiful, wonderful.

You're the most wonderful,
beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I'd like to paint you.

Was there something else
you wanted, Mr... Marlowe, isn't it?

You certainly are a lovely woman.
I'd like to paint you nude.

Some other time, Mr Marlowe. I was
about to make Arnie some lemonade.

Oh, yes, of course. Perhaps I've come
at an awkward moment.

If you want to undress me, you have.

Well, it wasn't exactly that.

I came here to talk to you about
something, but after I saw you it...

slipped my mind.

- It couldn't have been important.
- I guess you're right.

Sit on the porch. I'll get you a
lemonade. Maybe you'll think of it.

You're not only beautiful,
you're considerate too.

- Arnie!
- Hello, Mr Marlowe!

Hi. What do you got, a rabbit?

Dead. What have you got?

Oh, I got me a little frog.

Whoop!

- There he is.
- It's hungry.it needs a mother

Whoop!

- I'll trade ya.
- Your mother for mine?

- The rabbit for the frog.
- It's yours, Arnie.

I think you got the best deal.
Dead rabbits don't eat.

I'll just take it in the kitchen
and give him some lemonade.

Four rabbit's feet,
and he got killed.

- Should've had a four-leaf clover.
- And a horseshoe.

Say, how do rabbits get to be born?

- Same way elephants do.
- Oh, sure.

How come you never came over
to visit me before?

Didn't know you had such
a pretty mother, Arnie.

If you think she's pretty,
you should see my slingshot.

- Perhaps I'll come back tomorrow.
- When's that?

- The day after today.
- That's yesterday. Today's tomorrow.

- It was.
- When was tomorrow yesterday?

- Today.
- Oh, sure, yesterday.

You'll never make sense
out of Arnie. He has his own timing.

Thank you.

- Lemonade, Arnie?
- I already swiped two glasses.

- I would've given you two glasses.
- It's more fun to swipe.

Can I borrow your rabbit, Mr Marlowe?

Sure, Arnie.
What are you gonna do with it?

You never know when a dead rabbit
might come in handy.

It already got me one frog.

Arnie! Where are you going now?

To make some more trades.

- Come home in time for supper.
- OK.

What's your given name? If you don't
want to tell me, just make one up.

Jennifer. Jennifer Rogers.

Nice.

Um, who's the man up on the path?

- What man?
- You know, Harry, the dead man.

Oh, him.

That's my husband.

Your husband's dead, then?

Is your lemonade sweet enough?

- It seems to be.
- I like it tart.

Harry is Arnie's father, then?

- No, Arnie's father's dead.
- So is Harry.

Thank goodness.
He was too good to live.

From his looks, he didn't appear to
me to be the kind who was too good.

Well, he was. Horribly good.

I like your mouth too,
especially when you say, "Good."

- Will you have some more lemonade?
- Well, maybe later. Thanks.

Where'd Arnie get the rabbit?

He found it.
I thing Captain wiles shot it.

I'd like to hear more
of your life story if you don't mind

You see, we don't know
quite what to do with Harry.

- Thought you might have suggestions.
- You can stuff him for all I care.

Stuff him
and put him in a glass case.

Only I'd suggest frosted glass.

What did he do to you,
besides marry you?

Look, I've wanted to explain
about Harry a lot of times...

But nobody would understand,

least of all, Harry.

But you...

You've got an artistic mind.
You can see the finer things.

When I'm lucky.
Go on, tell me everything.

Let it all out.

It was a long time ago and I was
in love. I was too much in love.

- What was his name?
- Robert.

We'd agreed to overlook each other's
families and get married.

- Did you?
- Oh, yes.

- And then Robert got killed.
- Oh?

I was heartbroken for six weeks.

Then I discovered little Arnie
was on the way.

- Must have been a shock.
- Well, that's where Harry came in.

Harry the handsome hero.
Harry the saint.

- Harry the good.
- I didn't catch his last name.

Harry Worp, Robert's brother,
his older brother.

And he fell in love with you?

If he'd have fallen in love with me,
I wouldn't have minded.

He wanted to marry me because he was
Robert's brother and felt noble.

But you thought he was
in love with you?

And I decided to let him
love me because of Arnie.

It was on my second wedding night
that I learned the truth.

You didn't learn on your first?

This was a terrible truth...

The truth about Harry.

Just what happened?

How old are you, Mr Marlowe?

About 30.

This is what happened.

I was in the hotel room alone.

I put on my best nightie.

- You understand?
- Perfectly.

Although I had no true feeling
for Harry,

I worked myself into an enthusiasm
because I thought he loved me.

Must have been hard work.

There was a full moon,
and I sat by the window

because I thought it would show off
my new nightie to advantage.

Naturally.

I don't know why
I'm telling you all this.

You, a perfect stranger too.
I'm not boring you, am I?

No. Not at all.

- How about some more lemonade?
- Soon, soon.

Oh, where was I?

You were sitting by the window
because it was a full moon

and you'd worked yourself up
to a certain enthusiasm.

I said all that?

Uh, when does Harry come in?

He doesn't. He never came in.

- He called the following morning.
- The following morning?

In the hotel lobby the night before,
he bought a magazine.

- His horoscope was in it.
- Bad?

It said... He was a Taurus.

It said, 'Don't start
any new project that day.

- It could never be finished.'
- And what did you do?

I left him on the spot,
and went home to mother's. The end.

What a poignant story.

I knew you'd understand.

- Nobody else does.
- Not even mother?

She thought I should live with him,
but I wouldn't.

He pestered me to go back,
but I always refused.

Well, suppose some night
I wanted him to do something...

like the dishes, for example.

- His horoscope wouldn't let him.
- You're absolutely right.

There are some things
I just don't like to do by myself.

And no one with any true
understanding would blame you for it.

When Arnie was born, I moved to where
I thought Harry could never find me.

I changed my name and...

But he was persistent?

This morning there was a knock
on the door.

Before I opened it, I knew he was
standing on the other side.

- What did he want?
- Me!

He wanted me because I was his wife.

He wanted me because, as he put it,
he suddenly felt some basic urge...

- Loneliness.
- What'd you feel?

I felt sick. Did you see
his moustache and his wavy hair?

Yeah, but when I saw him,
he was dead.

Yeah, he looked exactly the same when
he was alive, except he was vertical.

So he entered. What'd you say?

Nothing. I hit him over the head with
a milk bottle and knocked him silly.

Silly?

Bats. Tappy.

He staggered up towards the woods
saying he was gonna find his wife

and drag her home if it killed him.

Apparently it did.

Have some more lemonade.

Why, Captain Wiles, what a surprise.

But you invited me, Miss Gravely.
At least that's how I remember it.

Of course I did, Captain,
but somehow, it's still a surprise.

Oh, yes. You certainly know
how to make a man feel wanted.

Won't you come in, Captain?

Thank you Heaven.
I... I've looked forward to it.

Takes a real cook to
make a good blueberry muffin,

to keep the blueberries
from sitting on the bottom.

High-bush blueberries,
that's the secret.

I picked 'em up near where you shot
that unfortunate man.

A real handsome man's cup.

It's been in the family for years.

My father always used it
up until he died.

I trust he died peacefully,
slipped away in the night.

He was caught in a threshing machine.

I hope I haven't distressed you, Captain.
Not at all. Not at all.

I'm used to looking on the rough side
of things.

I am man who's faced death
many times.

- Rather recently too.
- Yeah. -

Arnie. What are you carrying there?

- A rabbit.
- A rabbit?

- What do you call it?
- Dead. It ain't mine.

- Well, whose is it?
- Yours. You shot it with your gun.

You must've killed it today.
It should make a nice stew for ya.

A rabbit! I finally killed a rabbit!

- Where'd you get it?
- In the blueberry muffins.

- What?
- Out in the woods.

Oh, here you are. One muffin
for one rabbit. Fair enough?

That was a two-muffin rabbit.

- I gotta go now.
- Oh.

Hm.

It's, uh, certainly a nice afternoon,
Miss Gravely.

- Isn't it?
- Mm.

Yes, and you're, you're a nice woman.

And I think you're awfully nice,
Captain Wiles.

Um, um.
Let's get back to our little problem.

Harry. What's going to become of him?

Oh, now, now.
Don't you worry about Harry.

He'll be comfortably
underground before nightfall.

All that digging and work.
Couldn't you just...

let him slide off the end
of your boat pier into the pond?

And have him pop up like a cork?
No, sir.

Nobody ever popped up
from under four feet of ground.

No. Besides, they'll be
cutting ice there this winter.

Now wouldn't it be a nice thing
if they were cutting blocks of ice

Never mind, Captain. You're right.

Yes. Underground is the best place
for Harry.

He seems comfortable, Sam,
very comfortable and snug.

We better find a place and get it dug
and the sooner the better.

If what you say about Mrs Rogers
and her husband is right, I agree with you
se

Well, let's find a place.

No use making hard work out of it. We
need a place where the earth is soft.

And a place where the whole town
won't stumble over us as we work.

Mm. A place with a certain
character and attractiveness.

Facing west so that Harry
can watch the setting sun.

- Where it'll be cosy in winter.
- And cool in the summer.

You know, I'm half envying Harry.

It wouldn't take much longer
to dig it twice as wide.

Well, thanks for your kindness,
but some other time.

- Here. This looks like a good place.
- Ahh!

You're a lucky fellow, Harry Worp.

- Come on, off with your coat.
- Who, me?

Certainly you.
It's your body, isn't it?

I'm not much of a hand
at grave digging.

You should've thought of that
before you went hunting this morning.

Calvin Wiggs. What'll we do now?

Think up the best story
he's ever heard.

Lay down your shovel, Sam.

- What's the trouble?
- I'm dead beat.

Good.
I was dead beat ten minutes ago.

I wanted to keep digging
until you gave up.

- Brrrr! Gives me the creeps.
- Yeah?

Come on.
Let's get Harry and pop him in.

With hasty reverence.

- There. - Would you like to say
a few words, Captain?

Yes, I would. Harry Worp, don't ever
show your face around here again.

Let's finish this job
and get out of here.

Captain, I think Calvin Wiggs
is looking for something.

Think he knows Harry Worp came here?

Sammy, that's as horrible
a thought as you've ever had.

And that he wonders what happened
to Harry and where he is?

My only answer is to keep
on scraping, and fast.

If you must kill things from now on,
I wish you'd stick to rabbits.

- The body's smaller.
- Rabbits! I didn't tell you, did I Sami?

- I shot a rabbit today!
- Don't shout. I know you did.

I was up at Jennifer Rogers'
when Arnie showed me the rabbit.

Jennifer, eh?
Didn't waste much time, did you?

Well, I don't blame you, Sammy.

A very nice widow she'll make.
Very nice.

Let's discuss her
when we've finished with Harry.

No need to get huffy. I don't want
to talk about your affairs.

I've got affairs of my own.

- You mean my protégée?
- Come again?

Miss Gravely. The lady I renovated
at Mrs Wiggs' this afternoon.

A most remarkable
reversion to femininity.

I don't quite get you, Sammy boy.

She came into the Emporium
in rather high excitement.

Wanted a new cup and saucer,
lots of other things.

I gave her a new makeup
and hairdo.

Don't tell me you didn't notice.

She's a nice lady.

- Very nice.
- We're all nice.

I don't see how anyone
could help but like guys like us.

I agree. I don't know whether
I've grown rose-colored glasses or -

Or if you're in love?
Aha!

There's nothing like finding yourself
in love.

No, it adds zest to your work.

Zest! Zest!

I think I've had enough zest
for a while.

- Let's sit down and rest, huh?
- Oh, why not. We've earned it.

Tell me, Sam, What did Jennifer think
of my shooting?

You mean Mrs Rogers?

Oh, I think by now I'm entitled to be
on a first-name basis with her.

After all, I brought her a happy
release with one bullet.

One bullet? How 'bout that
"No Shooting" sign that I found?

Well, that. One bullet
for the "No Shooting" sign,

one for the beer can
and one for Harry.

- How about the rabbit?
- And one for the ra...

What's the matter?

- What's wrong? What's bitten you?
- I only fired three bullets.

Three! One for the shooting sign,
one for the beer can -

And one for the little man
who's lying in the grave.

No, Sammy, no. That's just it.
One for the rabbit.

If I shot the rabbit,
I didn't shoot Harry.

Oh, Sammy boy, what have you
tried to make me do?

Tried to make a murderer out of me.

Well, don't sit there. Help me!
You helped bury him.

Even if you didn't kill him, why dig
him up now that he's nicely planted?

I promised Jennifer
that we'd bury him.

Keep my word, he should stay buried.

Besides whether you killed him
or not, you've incriminated yourself.

You'll have more of a job explaining
a body that you didn't kill and bury,

than a body that you accidentally
killed and buried, right, Captain?

You're not supposed to bury bodies
whenever you find them.

It makes people suspicious.

Supposed to tell the police
or advertise or something.

Oh, Sammy, you don't understand.
You don't comprehend one bit.

You wouldn't like me to go through
life not knowing if I've killed him?

Very inconsistent. First, you tell me
you've got no conscience.

Now you talk about something that
sounds remarkably like a conscience.

Oh, Sammy, come on. Help me.

I don't care if I killed him or not,
for all that matters.

But I'll get the shakes
whenever I see a policeman.

All right.

If I had my choice, I'd rather be
thought a murderer than proved one.

Thank you. With two of us digging,
we'll have Harry out in nothing flat.

Can't see much from here. I'd better
get in down there and look at him.

- Let me do the honours.
- OK, Sammy. You've got good eyes.

Hey, that isn't a bullet wound.

Isn't a bullet wound?
Well, what d'ya know.

That's what they call a blow
with a blunt instrument.

Huh? What are you thinking, Sammy?

I think, Captain Wiles,
we're tangled up in a murder.

If it's murder, who done it?

- Who did it?
- That's what I say, who done it?

Apart from Jennifer Rogers,
who else'd want to kill him?

Apart from Jennifer?

- Yeah. Do you think that she would -
- Oh, it's ridiculous.

You said she was surprised to see
the body when she came up here.

You said she hit him on the head.

Coming home from Madagascar once,
we had a fireman on board

who hit his head on a brick wall
and died two days later.

Where could he find a brick wall
on board a ship?

Hmmm, that's what we always wondered.

Couldn't have been Jennifer. No.

Besides, what's it matter who did it?

It'll be better for all of us
if he's buried and out of the way.

Nothing doing. I'm not burying
someone else's bad habits.

Hmm? Suppose it was Miss Gravely?

What?

No, it's not as funny as all that.

You said yourself she wasn't
particularly startled

to see you dragging Harry
up the path.

You artists have got no idea
of etiquette.

Miss Gravely is a lady of gentle habits and
upbringing who hides her feelings.

If I wasn't holding Harry's ankles,
she'd have never mentioned him.

Really?

When she said...

'What seems to be the trouble,
Captain? ',

it was nothing more
than a pleasantry, so to speak.

Like, 'Nice day, isn't it? ' 'I'm
sure, yes.' Or something like that.

Going to help me bury him again?

Um... I don't know.

'Course, it might have been
Dr Greenbow or the tramp.

- Or Jennifer?
- I told you it couldn't...

Well, no point in arguing about it.
Let's get rid of him.

OK. You helped me in my hour of need.
I guess it's up to me to help you.

We'll file Harry away
once and for all.

No more nonsense about it.

Come aboard, Miss Gravely,
come aboard.

It's just an old salt's
snug anchorage.

Small, not palatial like yours,
But homely, very...

Won't you sit down, Miss Gravely?

Thank you.

It's funny. Funny how we got to be
so friendly in one afternoon.

I knew you weren't as prim
and starchy as they made out. No.

Not by a long shot.

- Really?
- No.

I'm a man who can recognise
the human qualities in a woman.

When I first saw you
down where Harry was -

- Captain Wiles.
- Yes, ma'am?

Before you make your kind thoughts
known to me,

I should like to offer you some
explanation of my sudden invitation

to coffee and blueberry muffins
this afternoon

and my...
and my sitting with you here now.

No, ma'am,
you don't have to explain anything.

You came to my aid at a moment of
crisis, for which I'm truly grateful.

Thank you, but it's just that
I owe you some reason.

No, no, no.
I won't hear a word of it.

You saw the predicament I was in
with that body on my hands

and you shut your eyes to it in a
most sporting fashion, if I say so.

- Captain Wiles.
- Yes, ma'am?

I'm trying to tell you the reason
I asked you to coffee and muffins.

It was because... I felt -

- Sympathy.
- Gratitude.

Gra...? But I'm the one
who should be grateful.

No, I was grateful.
I... I am grateful.

I'm grateful to you
for burying my body.

Your body?

The man you thought you killed...

was the man I hit over the head with
the leather heel of my hiking shoe.

You?

And with a metal cleat
on the end of it.

But why?

He annoyed me.

I was walking towards home when he

suddenly came at me
with a wild look in his eye

and insisted...

- we were married.
- Oh, you knew each other before.

Believe it or not, I had never
seen him before in my life and...

if I ever had,
I never would have married him.

He must have mistaken you
for someone else.

Oh, no, he very definitely
pulled me into the bushes.

- Yes?
- I came out again.

Go on.

He pulled me back.

Twice.

He swore at me,
horrible, masculine sounds.

- I didn't understand it, of course.
- Of course you didn't.

- We fought.
- Then what?

I won. My shoe had come off
in the struggle, and I hit him.

I hit him as hard as ever I could.

You killed him.

I must have done it.
I was annoyed, Captain.

- Very annoyed.
- Naturally.

I don't think
I've ever been so annoyed.

Consequently, I... I didn't
realise my own capabilities.

Whew! Seems to me...

Mrs Rogers knocked him silly,
and you finished him off.

Why should Mrs Rogers
knock him silly?

She was really his wife.

Poor woman.
I thought she had better taste.

You know, Captain,

when I ran away I decided I would
never tell a soul what had happened.

Then I met you, and I thought...

how convenient it was that you
should think that you had shot him.

- Forgive me for thinking that.
- Only natural.

That's why I felt... I still feel
under an obligation to you.

Oh, not at all. Let's forget it.

Oh, no, we mustn't do that.
It would hardly be fair to you i

I mean For you to go through life knowing
you had buried a man you didn't kill.

You would have my crime
on your conscience.

It's a pleasure,
I'm sure.

But no.

Now I realise that Harry man
was out of his mind,

and my action was justifiable,

there's no reason we shouldn't let
the authorities know about it.

- The authorities?
- Everything will be cleared up Nicely

I'm sure Calvin Wiggs and the police

won't make a fuss about it
when we explain.

Perhaps it needn't get
into the papers at all.

Don't you believe it. They love it,
the papers, this kind of thing.

Murder and passion.

You let Harry be.
Just forget it ever happened.

The same as Sammy and me
and Jennifer Rogers are going to do.

Oh, but... but it isn't your body.

After all, I killed him, so it's only
fair that I should have the say so -

- Yes, but -
- Don't you agree?

- Well, in a way -
- I thought you would.

I tell you what, Captain.

- We'll go and get a spade now.
- But ma'am -

And after we've dug him up,
we'll go back to my place

and I'll make you
some hot chocolate.

Arnie's so tired he'll sleep all day
and half the night.

I think you've got a pretty house,
Jennifer.

It's the best I could do
on Robert's insurance.

- Sugar?
- No, black, thanks.

It's funny, but...

I feel awful comfortable with you,
Sam.

You know, I feel the same way too.

It's a good feeling,

feeling comfortable with someone
who feels that way too.

There is one thing
I feel uncomfortable about.

Just tell me what it is,
and I'll take care of it for you.

- It's Harry. What about Harry?
- Harry? Don't you think about Harry.

Harry's part of the earth.
He's with eternity, the ages.

Take my word for it,
Harry's ancient history.

Come in, whoever it is.

What happened?

Sam, I've got something to tell you.

No, Captain,
I have something to tell him.

Now who's going to tell what?

I killed Harry Worp
with the heel of my shoe.

So it was you.

We're on our way to get Calvin Wiggs.

- And have him call the state police.
- I keep telling her there's no need.

He's right and, besides, it'd be
indecent. Harry's dead and buried.

Sam, I've got something to tell you.

You haven't dug him up again.

Well, I...

I insisted, Mr Marlowe.

- Don't you understand?
- You have nothing to fear.

It's my concern entirely.

As soon as Captain Wiles told me the
full circumstances of his being here

I knew there was nothing for me
to hide.

You know all about Harry?

Well, I'm afraid I do, Mrs Rogers,
and...

and after all, nobody could possibly
gossip about a lady and a maniac.

You'd be surprised.

You don't quite understand
what murder involves, Miss Gravely.

It'd be hours and hours
of questioning and photographs,

and the whole of your private life
spread indecently in the newspapers.

What makes you think
my private life is indecent?

I didn't mean that. I meant that
the way they pry is indecent.

They'll hound you to death.

There'll be newspapermen,
photographers, detectives.

I've made up my mind.

She certainly has.

It was Captain Wiles here
who persuaded me to call

and tell Mrs Rogers
what I proposed to do.

After all, she is most closely
connected with the business.

What do you think about it,
Mrs Rogers?

I can't see why you're all
making such a fuss about Harry.

If he was buried, I don't see
why you had to dig him up.

But since you have, I guess
you'd better do what you think best.

I don't care what you do with him,
as long as you don't revive him.

I have a free hand, then.

Free as a bird. As far as I'm
concerned, it's ancient history.

Wait a minute, Jennifer.

I think we've forgotten something.

Do you realise if this comes out,
that all the details of your marriage

will be public property?

Oh.

- I must confess hadn't thought
of that either.

- Where'd you put Harry this time?
Over by the big oak tree.

- I'll get my shovel.
- I'm causing you a lot of hard work.

- I'm sorry.
- Not at all, Not at all.

Well, let's all go up there.

You know, I've never been to a
home-made funeral before.

Hm. I have.

This is my third.

All in one day.

Well, let's get it over with.

Yes.

I think we ought to cement it over.

Next spring
I'll set out some blueberry bushes.

Couldn't you make it
something else? Lilac, maybe.

I think nature'll
will take good care of it.

- How about a service?
- I Can't think of what to say.

- Besides, my arms ache.
- It's late for a prayer.

Besides, wherever he was going,
he's there now.

Bye, Harry. I forgive you.

- Trumpets welcoming Harry.
- You didn't know Harry.

I want to paint you, Jennifer.
You're beautiful in the moonlight.

Sounds as if it's
coming down from near the village.

I know what it is.
The call of the phantom stagecoach

that used to pass by here
each night 200 years ago.

- Phantom ghost?
- The turnpike ran across the hills.

Oh, to be a highwayman
on a night like this.

Listen. Somebody's running.

- Horses?
- A horse that can shout.

- What's she saying?
- We'll know soon. She's coming here.

- Sam Marlowe!
- It's Wiggy. Old Wiggy.

Mr Marlowe!

Mr Marlowe!

- Wiggy, what on earth do you want?
- I... He wants...

- Wait a minute, Catch your breath.
- He's a millionaire!

- Who?
- He wants to buy your pictures.

- Which pictures?
- All of 'em and more besides.

He says you're a genius.

He's right, but it's hard to believe
he wants to buy all my pictures.

I'd be too curious
to refuse to at least to talk to him.

Don't turn down
a good chance, Mr Marlowe.

All right, I'll talk to him.

- We dug sassafras root.
- Sassafras tea is healthy.

Mr Wiggs always swore it cured
his arthritis just before he died.

How much does
the millionaire want to pay?

I said seven dollars for the one that
looks like blobs in a thunderstorm.

- And?
- He said they are priceless.

Priceless? Sounds like
something I painted in kindergarten.

That picture is symbolic
to the beginning of the world.

That's where I first heard
of the world, in kindergarten.

Yes, and my friend here, art critic
for the modern museum, he -

Don't think I'm rude, but it doesn't
matter to me what an art critic says.

- Is that so?
- I know my paintings are good.

He doesn't want them, you do. So
all that matters is what you think.

Well, I think they are works of
genius, and I want to buy them all.

- Too bad.
- Why?

Just decided I can't sell them.
Besides, you couldn't afford them.

Oh.

- Uh...
- Money.

Sammy. Don't be a fool.
Make him pay through the nose.

Go ahead, Mr Marlowe, be reasonable.

- Be unreasonable, if you want.
- What do you say?

It's your genius, Sam.
It's up to you.

All right then. What do you like most
in the whole world?

I don't know. Strawberries, I guess.

Strawberries. Write that down.

Two boxes of fresh strawberries, each
month, in season and out of season,

from now on.

Well, it's simple. What else?

What would Arnie like?

A chemical set.

- What kind?
- Whatever smells the worst.

- Got that?
- Right.

One smelly chemical set.

Wiggy, Wiggy, what would you like?

Cash register, chromium plated,
one that rings a bell.

- Got room for one?
- I'll find room.

- Cash register.
- Chromium plated, rings a bell.

Check.

Miss Gravely,
a beauty parlour, fully equipped?

What for?

A hope chest... filled with things
I should have put in it but didn't.

A hope chest, full of hope.

Captain?

A good shotgun, plenty of ammunition,

some corduroy britches, a plain shirt
and a hunting cap. A brown one.

Davy Crockett, the works.

Well, that's it, I guess.

- The paintings are yours.
- Yes, but what about you?

Yes, Sam,
you've gotta ask for something.

Well, let's see.

That's it.

What's it?

Pardon me.

What do you think?

Yes,
I think that can be easily arranged.

Well. That's it, then.

I'll come back in the morning
for all these paintings.

Mr Marlowe,

this has been a night that I shall
remember the rest of my life.

Come back again. I'll have some more
paintings for you next month.

And you'll have a steady customer
in me,

even if you raise your prices.

- Well, good night, everyone.
- Good night.

All right, young man.

Congratulations, Sammy!
Good boy!

- Did I do the right thing?
- You did just the right thing, Sam.

Good.

Because it's important to me
that you think so.

Why?

Because I love you.
I want to marry you.

Oh!

- You want to marry me?
- Uh-huh. Why not?

Well...
because I just got my freedom today.

Easy come, easy go.

Besides, if you married me,
you'd keep your freedom.

You must be practically unique, then.

I respect freedom.
More than that, I love freedom.

We might be the only free
married couple in the world.

This is very sudden, Sam.

You'll have to give me
a little time to think about it.

Only fair. I'll give you
until we get back to your house.

- What's goin' on here at this hour?
- The most wonderful thing.

Mr Marlowe sold all his paintings
to a millionaire.

- Got more'n I ever figured he'd get.
- Money?

Well, not exactly money.

I always knew
they weren't worth the space.

I found these on a tramp
hangin' 'round here.

Said he found 'em on a... dead man.

Took me to where he said
he found him, and...

I didn't see any body.

Montpelier 2000.

- That's the state police.
- Uh huh.

I think, uh, we'd better get going.

Thank you for the cash register.

It was a pleasure. Good night.

Good night. Good night.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Good night, Captain.

This is Deputy Sheriff Calvin Wiggs.

Yeah, I'll wait.

Ma?

Yes?

- This picture here on the floor.
- It's a new one.

He did it today,
but it isn't for sale.

- Why not?
- You'll have to ask him that.

He left it on his way
over to Jennifer Roger's house.

Guess he didn't have time
to take it home.

You suddenly got interested in art?

No.

But... it's just that it matches
the description of -

Oh, hello, Sergeant.

Calvin Wiggs.

Got something
that might interest you a little.

It seems I picked up this tramp
with a pair of stolen shoes...

and a wild story about a corpse.

What do you think? Him walking in
with Harry Worp's shoes in his hand?

And then that phone call
to the police?

I don't know. I may be wrong, but I
don't think he's tied us into it yet.

Oh, the way he looked at me.

If he'd known anything,
he'd have kept us there.

But modern police methods
are all psychological now, Sammy.

They just wear you down
and wear you down until...

you're almost grateful
to get into that gas chamber.

The police would probably tell him,
if the shoes fit, to keep them.

Oh, well.

- I've decided, Sam.
- Decided what?

I will marry you, if you haven't
forgotten about asking me.

I'm... I'm very fond of you and...

I think you'd make a good father
for Arnie.

And for some other reasons
best left unsaid.

Marriage is the comfortable way
to spend the winter,

but right now we should be
working on some good story

to satisfy the State Police
if they should turn up.

Would you believe it?
I'd almost forgotten that proposal.

- I have witnesses, Sam.
- Oh, I remember now.

All right,
you've got yourself a husband.

I think I'll kiss you now
to prove it.

Lightly, Sam.
I have a very short fuse.

What a pretty sight.

Sam, what did you ask
the millionaire for?

That's very practical.

- Congratulations, my dear.
- You're a lucky man, Sammy.

- I think you'll both be very happy.
- Thank you.

If I grumbled too much at my share of
the work in burying Harry, I'm sorry.

I can see now it was well worth it.

- And if I can do anything else -
- Hold it! Hold it, hold it!

What's wrong, Sam?

Harry. We're not quite finished
with him yet.

Sam, if anybody's through, it's
Harry. He's been buried three times.

Before we can get married, you're
gonna have to prove that you're free.

To prove you're free, you'll
have to prove that Harry -

Is dead.

What a horrible complication.

Oh!

I don't know that it is.

What are you looking at me for?
You...

Sammy, I'll do anything to help you,
but please,

please don't ask me to dig up
Harry again!

- Oh, come, come now, Captain.
- No, we can't.

- You're thinking of bad publicity -
- No, I'm not.

I think Sam would be worth
just about anything.

I'm thinking of you, Miss Gravely.

Murder is murder, no matter how
exonerating the circumstances.

It just wouldn't look nice at all
for you.

That's right!
Better let him stay where he is.

You'll only have to wait seven years
to presume death, anyway.

- Seven years! I'll be an old man.
- Don't be silly.

You waited far longer
than seven years already.

Yes, but now I know
what I'm waiting for.

I insist that you dig
the wretched man up.

I don't care a hoot what they say.

They'd only have to know me to
realise the man must have been mad.

- I disagree! Huh!
- Really, Captain Wiles?

Well...

I'll dig him up but we'd better
get it done before Calvin Wiggs

gets the state police
snooping around here.

I've been thinking.

I've been thinking maybe we could
forget the way it really happened.

I could tell how Harry visited me
and went off in such a rage today

and that's all we'd need to know
about his being there.

No, somebody else
might get the blame.

And somebody else might not
have such a good reason as I did.

What do you mean 'somebody else'?

I can think of two people with
a good reason for having killed him.

First you, because you married him.
And now Sam.

Me? Why would I want to kill him?
I never met him before.

You could still have a reason
for killing him.

- She means me.
- Yes.

I didn't fall in love with Jennifer
until after Harry was dead.

Try telling that to the police.

She's right, Sammy boy.

On second thought, we'd better stick
to the truth, what there is of it.

We must think up a reason why the
police weren't informed before now.

Yes, then there's the condition he's
in. That will take some explaining.

We'll just clean him up a bit.

It's horrible,
but there's nothing else we can do.

We can't risk complicating
Miss Gravely's confession.

As for the delay, I can explain that
I was so upset by the occurrence

that I went straight home and rested.

- Only natural.
- They'll think you had a long rest.

Sam, I'd rather not spend
the whole night debating.

Let's get Harry someplace
and clean him up.

Let's get out of here.

Love alters not
with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out
even to the edge of doom,

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

I, uh, I think he met with a bit
of an accident, Dr Greenbow.

He certainly did.

Which of you found him?

- Well -
- He was my husband, Doctor.

Oh, Mrs Rogers. I didn't know you
had a husband. I'm awfully sorry.

It's all right, Doctor.
It's just life, I guess.

- What happened to him?
- Well, he -

We want to know too. Can you say what
caused his death? It was so sudden.

In this light, my opinion
would be little more than a guess.

In that case, we could take him
someplace where you could see better.

All right, but I need my bag.
Where should we meet?

I'll take Harry home to my house.

Going home for the last time.

Better be the last time.

Come on, Sam. I've got
about one more trip left in me.

I'll get your coats.

I'll get the suspenders on.

I can't wait for this to be ready.
I'll have to iron it dry.

Isn't it odd?

After refusing for so long, here
I am finally doing Harry's laundry.

Ah!
Look.

It's nothing to get excited about,
Captain.

It's only a closet door.

Oh. I thought it was Harry.

Relax, Captain. Nothing the wory about that

What about the cut I made on his head
with my hiking shoe?

Hmm.
I'll put some adhesive tape on it.

They'll think it was done
before he died.

After the shirt's finished,
it should be just about everything.

- If that who I think it is -
- Calvin Wigg's car.

Just one second.

Well, Calvin Wiggs. What a surprise.

- Sam here?
- Yes, yes, yes, he's here.

Can I see him a minute?

- Sam?
- Yeah?

- Calvin Wiggs is here to see you.
- Tell him I'll be right out.

- He says he'll be right out.
- Why don't I just go on in?

Evening, Calvin.

Evening, Captain Wiles.
Miss Gravely.

We've got 'em on the run
in four spades.

They should have been in diamonds.
Play much bridge?

- Never play it.
- That's what I thought.

Something you wanted, Calvin?

- Where were you today, Sam?
- Working, as usual.

Somewheres down
by Mansfield Meadows?

Possibly. I do quite a bit
of sketching around. Why?

Is that where, uh...

Where you painted this?

I left that portrait
with your mother.

What right do you have to carry it
around with you? It might be damaged.

Yeah. It could be priceless,
and Sam would lose a sale.

Oh, I'll send him a box of
blueberries the first of every month.

Sam, what I wanna know is where'd
you paint it and who is it.

First of all, it's not a painting,
it's a drawing.

Matter of fact, it's a pastel and...
as for the model...

- It just came to me out of the blue.
- You don't say.

Why are you acting
like a deputy sheriff?

That tramp I picked up,
the one with the stolen shoes?

Said he got 'em off a dead man?

He described him very carefully. The
description fits the picture exactly.

A tramp who probably can't keep
his job and drinks too much.

I wouldn't think his word
was very reliable.

Got him locked up
in the schoolhouse.

- I took the painting to show him -
- Drawing, if you don't mind.

I took the drawing to show him.

He almost fainted.
Said it was the same face.

Where'd you paint it, Sam?

From my vast subconscious.

Sam, I hate to say this,
but I don't believe you.

With all this talk,
I've lost interest in the game.

If you'll forgive me,
I'll just run along home.

I'll see you all tomorrow.

What do you mean,
you don't believe me?

What I mean, Sam...
I ain't educated in fancy art...

but I do know the face of a dead
man when I see one, and this is it.

Calvin, perhaps I can
educate you to, um, 'fancy art.'

See this -
Portrait of a sleeping face.

A man, relaxed,
far removed from earthly cares.

It was conceived out of memory
and half-forgotten impulse,

and it emerged from the shadows
of abstract emotions,

until it was born full-grown from...

the mechanical realities
of my fingertips.

- Oh, now Sam, don't -
- I don't need a model to draw from.

Instead of creating a sleeping face,
I could have...

chosen an entirely different set
of artistic stimuli.

My subconscious is peopled
with enough faces to cover the Earth.

And the construction of the human
anatomy is so infinitely variable

as to lie beyond the wildest powers
of calculation.

Now, a raised eyelid, perhaps.

A line of fullness to the cheek.

Lip that bends with expression.

There.

- Sam, do you know what you just did?
- Certainly.

I just showed you how clearly
you misinterpreted my art.

You just destroyed legal evidence.

Calvin, it appears to me
you still don't understand.

I understand you made kind of a fool
out of me.

But I still got enough evidence
to know something funny's going on.

I ain't goin' to sleep
till I find out what it is.

Good night, Calvin.

Hey! What's he doin' in our bathtub?

- That's where frogs belong.
- Oh.

- Back to bed, Arnie. Back to bed.
- State troopers here in the morning.

I'm gonna want 'em to have a talk
with you, so be around.

- I said back to bed.
- You can find me in my studio.

Just make sure.

Where is he?

He... he's in the bathroom
playing with his frog.

Oh?

Um... This way, please, Doctor.

It's Arnie. He's not very well.

Someone must be foolin' around
with my car.

What are you playin'
with the horn for? It ain't your car.

Well, things are funny, you know?

Me and Miss Gravely might be in the
car market. We're looking for a car.

Yes. Had a look at this one.
It's a beauty.

I want to keep it that way.

Now, now, that's not the way
to talk to a prospective customer.

You're no prospective customer.
You can't afford this car.

He's gone.

I put the little...
I put Arnie back to bed.

- What'd the doctor say?
- He said for me to get out.

I didn't like the look in his eye.
Something seems to be bothering him.

Well, Captain,
did you get over being frightened?

Frightened?

Oh, no, that's not why I left. No.

I'm not easily frightened,
you know. No.

Why, after all those years sailing
the four corners of the globe,

strange ports, a lot of rough men
and...

Miss Gravely, what would you say...

if I told you...

I was only the captain
of a tugboat...

on the East River...

and never got more than a mile
or so off shore?

Well, I would say that...

that you were the handsomest
tugboat captain

that ever sailed up the East River.

Oh, maybe not. No.

You want to see something?
Here. Here.

- Captain.
- Where'd you get those?

Calvin Wiggs' car.

I figured you were handling
half the evidence, Sammy,

so it was up to me
to take care of the rest.

You're the sweetest captain.

Why is he in the bathtube?

Well, uh...
What'd you find out, Doctor?

Oh, that.
It was his heart. He had a seizure.

- His heart?
- A seizure!

Well, I'll take a trip
to the Philippines!

- Death from natural causes.
- Well, certainly.

But will somebody tell me what he's
doin' in the bathtub half undressed?

Frankly, we didn't want
Calvin Wiggs to see him.

Besides, he was awful dirty
after we dug him up.

Dug him up?

I'd better explain, Doctor, you see,

Harry's been buried and dug up
on and off all day long.

What?

Finally, he caused so many
complications that

we decided to clean him up
and put him back where we found him.

I don't understand you.
What complications?

Well, for example,

he upset Captain Wiles because the
captain thought he had shot him.

The hole in the head. But as it
turned out, it wasn't the captain.

Miss Gravely hit him with the heel
of her shoe after he attacked her.

Captain Wiles attacked Miss Gravely?

Oh, no, Doctor, Harry.

He dragged her into the bushes,
thinking it was me.

He was dazed, I supposed, after I hit
him on the head with a milk bottle.

The captain and Sam buried him first.

The captain was so scared.

Then he accounted for all his
bullets, so up Harry came.

Then Miss Gravely thought her shoe
was responsible for it so -

- Shoe?
- So the captain,

rather gallantly, I thought,
pushed him back in again.

Then he was out and back and...
I can't remember why.

But anyway, he's out again now
because Sam and I wanna get married.

- Yeah. But why did you -
- Hit him on the head?

That wouldn't interest you.
It's purely personal and non-medical.

Besides, it's awfully late, so if
you'll keep quiet about all this,

we'll put Harry back in the morning,
nice and clean,

and no one will be any the wiser.

And then we'll be rid of all these
sticky complications.

Put him back, put him back,
that's all.

This is the first nightmare
I've had in 25 years.

He's kinda strange, isn't he?

Well, um,
hadn't we better get Harry dressed?

Yes, yes.

Couldn't Arnie find him again?

Then he'd run home and tell me,
and then I'd phone Calvin Wiggs.

Yes! Arnie could explain
quite clearly to Calvin -

- That he found Harry tomorrow.
- You mean today.

But to Arnie, tomorrow is yesterday.

Let's go get Harry. Come on, Captain.

Here he comes.

Go on, Arnie.
Run home and tell me about it.

Don't touch him.

Please, Arnie, run home
and tell your mother.

Beat it, you little creep!

I mean, hurry home, son.

Captain, you never told me
your first name.

Albert. What's yours?

Ivy. Albert, let's go.

Just a minute, ma'am.
I want to ask Sam something.Sam,

what did you ask the millionaire
to bring you?

Albert, what was it?

A double bed.

by Shilownak 09/09/2019
Shilownak@gmail.com