FALLON: Don't worry! I'm sure of it.

MRS. HOWARD: And, you think he won't come back?

FALLON: (After a pause, gravely.) I _know_ he won't come back.

MRS. HOWARD: G.o.d bless you, d.i.c.k!

FALLON: See you at dinner.

(MRS. HOWARD exits. FALLON stands considering, and chewing on his cigar. Then, he crosses room briskly and lowers the blind at each window. Opens valise and examines revolver. Places the revolver in his left hip pocket. Then, in a matter-of-course manner from his right hand pocket, he draws his automatic pistol. This, as though a.s.sured he would find loaded, he examines in a quick, perfunctory way, and replaces. He crosses left to desk, and taking from it a cheque book, writes out a cheque, which he tears from the book, and holds in his right hand. With left hand he removes the receiver from the telephone.)

Give me Murray Hill 2828. h.e.l.lo, is this the Corn and Grain Bank?

I want to speak to the cashier. h.e.l.lo, is that the cashier? This is Richard Fallon, of San Francisco, speaking from the Hotel Wisteria. I opened an account with you day before yesterday, for two hundred thousand dollars. Yes, this is Mr. Fallon speaking.

I made out a cheque yesterday payable to Louis Mohun (Glances at cheque.), dated August 4th, for two thousand dollars. I want to know if he's cashed it in yet? He hasn't, hey? Good! (He continues to look at cheque, to impress upon audience, that the cheque they have just seen him write, is the one which he is speaking about.) Well, I want to stop payment on that cheque. Yes, yes. I made it out under _pressure_, and I've decided not to stand for it. Yes, _sort_ of a hold up! I guess that's why he was afraid to cash it.

You'll attend to that, will you? Thank you. Good-bye. (He takes an envelope from desk, places cheque in it and puts envelope in his breast pocket. Again takes off receiver.) h.e.l.lo, give me the cashier, please. Am I speaking to the cashier of the hotel? This is Mr. Fallon in room 210. Is your hotel detective in the lobby?

He is? Good! What--what sort of a man is he, is he a man I can rely on? A Pinkerton, hey? That's good enough! Well, I wish you'd give him a thousand dollars for me in hundreds. Ten hundred-dollar bills, and before you send them up, I wish you'd mark them and take their numbers. What? No, there's no trouble. I just want to see that the right bills go to the right people, that's all.

Thank you.

(He crosses to door centre, and taking key from the bedroom side, places it in keyhole on side of door in view of the audience. He turns the key several times. He takes the revolver from his left hip pocket and holding it in his right hand, rehea.r.s.es shooting under his left arm through his coat which he holds from him by the fingers of his left hand. Shifting revolver to his left hand, he takes the automatic from his right hip pocket, and goes through the motions of firing with both guns in opposite directions. His pantomine must show he intends making use of both guns at the same time, using one apparently upon himself, and the other, in earnest, upon another person. He replaces the revolvers in his pockets.

There is a knock at the door.)

Come in.

(KELLY enters. In his hand he carries an envelope. He is an elderly man with grey hair, neatly dressed and carrying a straw hat. He has an air of authority. His manner to FALLON is respectful.)

KELLY: Afternoon, Mr. Fallon. I am Kelly, the house detective.

FALLON: Yes, I know. I've seen you in the lobby.

KELLY: Mr. Parmelee said I was to give you this. (Gives envelope to FALLON. FALLON takes out ten yellow-back bills.) There ought to be a thousand dollars there in hundreds.

FALLON: That's right. Now, will you just sit over there, and as I read the numbers, you write them down.

KELLY: Mr. Parmelee made a note of the numbers, Mr. Fallon.

FALLON: I know. I want you to identify them too.

KELLY: I can do that. I saw him mark them.

FALLON: Good. And if you saw these bills in the next five minutes you'd be able to swear they're the same bills you gave me?

KELLY: Sure. (Starts towards door.)

FALLON: Wait a minute. Sit down, Kelly. (KELLY seats himself in Morris chair, holding his hat between his knees.) Kelly, this hotel engages you from the Pinkertons to stay around the place, and--protect the guests?

KELLY: Yes, sir.

FALLON: Well, there's a man downstairs thinks he has a claim on this money. Now, I'd like you to wait in that bedroom and listen to what he says with a view to putting him in jail.

KELLY: Blackmail, Mr. Fallon?

FALLON: Yes, blackmail.

KELLY: (Eagerly.) And you're not going to stand for it?

FALLON: I am not!

KELLY: (Earnestly.) Good! That's the only way to treat those dogs.

Never _give up_, never _give up_!

FALLON: No, but yesterday, I _had_ to give up. He put a gun at my head.

KELLY: (Excitedly.) Where? Not in this hotel?

FALLON: Yes, in this room. I gave him a cheque for two thousand dollars. That made him think I was _easy_, and he telephoned this morning that he's coming back for another thousand, and he wants it in _cash_. That's why I marked those bills.

KELLY: Why, we got him _now_! He's as good as _dead_.

FALLON: (Startled.) What?

KELLY: I say, we've got him nailed now.

FALLON: Oh, yes. (Pause.) He hasn't turned in the cheque yet--I've just called up the bank to find out. I guess he means to hold _that_ over my head, hey?

KELLY: More likely he's _afraid_ of it. (Eagerly.) We may _get_ that back, too. We may find it _on him_.

FALLON: What? Yes, as _you_ say, we may find it on him.

KELLY: (Eagerly.) And as soon as he gets those bills in his clothes, you give me the high sign (Fiercely.)--and we'll _nail_ him!

FALLON: Yes, we'll nail him. And, if he puts his gun in my face _today_, he won't catch me empty-handed the second time. (Draws automatic from his pocket.) I'm _ready_ for him, today!

KELLY: (Greatly concerned.) Here, none of _that_ stuff, Mr. Fallon.

A gentleman like you can't take _that_ chance.

FALLON: Chance? Kelly, I haven't _always_ lived in a swell hotel.

The man that gets the drop on _me_--_when_ I've got a gun--has got to be d.a.m.ned quick.

KELLY: That's just what I mean! I'm not thinking of him, I'm thinking of _you_. Give me that gun.

FALLON: Certainly not.

KELLY: You don't want to go to jail for a rat like that.

FALLON: I don't mean to go to jail, and, I don't mean to die, either. For the last six years I've been living on melted ice and bacon. Now, I'm worth seven million dollars. I'm thirty-five years old and my life is in front of me. And, I don't mean to waste one hour of it in a jail, and I don't mean to let any blackmailer take it away from me.

KELLY: You don't want no judge to take it away from you, either!

You're not in the Klondike.