projects more productive for the

public good.

The Ransom
of Red Chief

JUDGE: Okay, try me!

A play by Ray Smith
Adapted from the short story
of the same name
by O. Henry.
CHARACTERS
Judge
Sheriff
Sam Spindler (a desperate man)
Bill Driscoll (another desperate
man)
Red Chief (Johnny Dorset)
Ebenezer Dorset (Red Chief's
father)
--Scene: A courtroom-JUDGE: Order! Order! What's
the next case here?
SHERIFF: Your honor, I just
caught these two kidnappers
hightailing outa town like skaret
rabbits. Ebenezer Dorset can
identify them as the two men
what kidnapped his kid.
JUDGE: Kidnapped the Dorset
kid, didja? You ever figure that
maybe the act of kidnapping
doesn't go over too well around
here?
SAM: Judge... er... I mean, Your
Honor, Bill Driscoll here and
myself are ready to represent
ourselves and get this thing
cleared up right away, no doubt
saving the good people of
Alabama a lot of time and
money that could be diverted to

SAM: Well, you see, your honor,

at first it looked like a good
thing in which nobody'd get
hurt. We were passing right
through Summit here when this
kidnapping idea, or maybe I
should call it this harmless
financial scheme, first occurred
to us during... Bill, how was it
you put that so poetically to me
as we were being brought in
here by the good Sheriff?
BILL: I said the idea struck us
during a moment of temporary
mental apparition.
SAM: Yeah, yeah, that's it,
"temporary mental apparition."
Course, we didn't find out till
later how misguided our good
intentions really were. In fact,
looking around Summit, we
were pretty hopeful in the
beginning that a satisfactory
outcome would ensue. The town
itself contains inhabitants of as
undeleterious and self-satisfied
a class of peasantry as ever
clustered around a Maypole.
SHERIFF: Your honor, are we
gonna hafta listen to these two
crooks just go on and on for the
whole live-long day?
JUDGE: I did have in mind a
game or two of horseshoes after
lunch today, so I'm going to ask
you gentlemen to please come
to the point.

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BILL: You see, Your Honor, Sam

and me had a joint capital of
about six hundred dollars, and
we needed just two thousand
dollars more to pull off a frau...
a business deal in Western
Illinois. We talked it over right
there on the front steps of the
Summit Hotel.
SAM: Philoprogenitiveness,
says we, is strong in semi-rural
communities. Therefore, and
for other reasons, we decided
that a kidnap..., a project
mutually beneficial to all
concerned ought to do better
here in Summit than it would
within the radius of a town with
lots of newspapers that send
reporters out in plain clothes to
stir up a lot of careless talk in
order to enliven their stories
and sell more newspapers.
BILL: Philoprogenitiveness, yes
sir! And in a small town like this
one, we figured that the good
people, if and when they failed
to understand our honorable
intentions, would not be able to
get after us with anything
stronger than constables and
maybe some lackadaisical
bloodhounds--and a diatribe or
two in the Weekly Farmer's
Budget. So it looked good.
SAM: We carefully selected our
victim...
JUDGE: Victim?
SAM: A poor choice of words on
my part Your Honor. We
selected as the recipient of our
hospitality the only child of a

prominent citizen named

Ebenezer Dorset, whom we
believe you already know.
JUDGE: We've met, yes.
BILL: We figured that being
respectable and tight, a
mortgage fancier, a stern,
upright collection-plate passer
and forecloser, he'd be the kind
of strong philoprogenitive
parental figure we'd want to
deal with... Someone with a lot
of integrity, and of course also
with a couple of thousand
dollars in ready cash. But wait
till I tell you the whole of it.
JUDGE: So you decided to
proceed with the kidnapping,
and you had your victim
targeted. I understand that
perfectly. What happened next?
SAM: Well, sir, about two miles
from Summit there's this little
mountain, covered with a dense
growth of cedars. Now on the
rear elevation of this mountain
there's a cave. That's where we
stored our provisions and made
camp. One evening after
sundown, we hired a little buggy
in a village not far from here,
and we drove right past old
man--I mean Mr.--Dorset's
house. Right away, we spotted
the kid in the street, throwing
rocks at a little kitten that was
balanced terrified on a fence.
BILL: "Hey, little boy!" says I in
my naivet, "Would you like to
have a bag of candy and a nice
ride in this buggy of ours?" Well,
the little dev... uh, little kid, lets

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loose with a chunk of brick and

catches me right in the eye.

and he had two buzzard tail

feathers stuck in his red hair.

JUDGE: So I see. That's a nasty

cut.

BILL: Your Honor, at this time,

we'll need to introduce our
Exhibit A.

BILL: I thought to myself,

"That's gonna cost the old man
an extra five hundred..."
SAM: [Hurrying to interrupt.]
The boy, misunderstanding our
good intentions, lost his mind,
Your Honor, and put up a fight
like a welter-weight cinnamon
bear when we grabbed him; but
at last we got him down in the
bottom of the buggy and drove
away. We took him up to the
cave and I hitched the horse in
the cedars. After dark, I drove
the buggy back to the little
village where we'd hired it, and
then I walked back to our camp
on the mountain. When I got
there, I found Bill putting
ointment on all kinds of
scratches and bruises he had
acquired on his face and arms in
my absence.
SHERIFF: Your Honor, this is
going to become one of them
novels if you let this man go
on...
JUDGE: Hush! I want to hear
this. Go on, Mr. Spindler.
SAM: Well, Mr. Bill Driscoll here
had built a fire just behind the
big rock at the entrance of the
cave because he wanted the boy
to feel comfortable, and the boy
was watching a pot of boiling
coffee that was sitting on it--

JUDGE: Exhibit A, Mr. Driscoll?

Now what would that be?
BILL: That would be the boy,
your honor.
SHERIFF: Your Honor, they can't
be using a boy for an exhibit!
JUDGE: Sheriff, the job of this
court is to get at the truth of
things, and I'll be the one who
makes the rules for how we get
there. Now you just sit down
and let me handle things. Mr.
Driscoll, where's the boy?
BILL: He's right here, Your
Honor. [Turns to Red Chief, who
is sitting with his father, and
speaks.] Now you little... Now
son, you go on up there and
behave yourself or the Judge'll
have you thrown in jail with
nothing to eat for three days,
and you won't be able to see
your Uncle Bill and your Uncle
Sam and play games until after
you get out.
RED CHIEF: Why's the judge got
a hammer? Is he gonna hit me
with it? Does the Sheriff have a
horse of his own? How come
they hold court in here instead
of in the park? I lost my sock
the other day when I was...
BILL: Go on up there..., son.

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[Red Chief bolts to the front and

stands next to the judge.]
SHERIFF: Your Honor, I just
don't see what...
JUDGE: I don't care what you
can't see, Sheriff. I want to hear
this whole story for myself. [To
Sam and Bill.] Now which one of
you gentlemen wants to go on.
BILL: I will, Your Honor. [Turns
to Red Chief.] Well, go ahead,
Mr. smart Indian, tell the Judge
what you said to Sam when he
came into camp.
RED CHIEF: I says, "Ha! You
cursed paleface, do you dare to
enter the camp of Red Chief,
the terror of the plains?"
JUDGE: My, my! Terror of the
plains! My, my!
SAM: The boy's got a lot of
spirit, your honor.
BILL: Anyway, Sam was real
concerned about my bruises and
stuff, but I told him that the boy
was more settled now than he
had been a few minutes ago. I
explained that we were playing
Indian. By comparison, we were
making Buffalo Bill's Wild West
Show look like a showing in a
church of peaceful magiclantern views of the holy land. I
was being Old Hank, the
Trapper, and Red Chief here-that's the boy, your honor--was
holding me captive after a
considerable struggle which
involved him hitting me with
sticks and rocks and kicking my

shins as hard as he could.

Anyway, when I agreed to await
my fate of being scalped at
daybreak and not try to escape,
Red Chief quieted down a little,
and I naively figured that the
game was about over. By
Geronimo, that kid can kick
hard!
SAM: Yes sir, that boy seemed
to be having the time of his life.
The fun of camping out in a
cave had made him forget that
he was a captive himself. He
immediately christened me
"Snake-eye, the Spy," and
announced that, when his
braves returned from the
warpath at sunup on the
morrow, I was to be broiled at
the stake. Of course, I didn't
take him seriously. You know
how children are with their
imaginations.
BILL: We wanted the boy to
have proper nutrition, of course,
so then I fixed us a good supper
and the boy crammed his mouth
full of bacon and bread and
gravy and began to talk as he
chewed. He went on and on,
something like this: "I like this
fine. I never camped out before;
but I had a pet 'possum once,
and I was nine last birthday. I
hate to go to school. Rats ate up
sixteen of Jimmy Talbot's aunt's
speckled hen's eggs. Are there
any real Indians in these
woods? I want some more
gravy. Does the trees moving
make the wind blow? We had
five puppies. What makes your
nose so red, Hank? My father

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has lots of money. Are the stars

hot? I whipped Ed Walker twice,
Saturday. I don't like girls. You
dasssent catch toads unless
with a string. Do oxen make any
noise? Why are oranges round?
Have you got beds to sleep on
in this cave? Amos Murray has
got six toes on one of his feet. A
parrot can talk, but a monkey or
a fish can't. How many does it
take to make twelve?"
RED CHIEF: I done figured that
one out for myself. It takes a
dozen, and Amos Murray's got
six toes on BOTH his feet, not
just one, so he's got a dozen
toes.
SAM: The boy's got a gift for
gab, your honor. And every few
minutes he would remember
that he was a pesky redskin,
and pick up his rifle, which was
just a stick of course, and tiptoe
to the mouth of the cave and
poke his neck out looking for
the scouts of the hated
paleface. Now and then he
would let out a war-whoop that
made Old Hank the Trapper
here shiver up and down his
entire spine. Yes sir, that boy
had Bill terrorized from the
start.
BILL: I was not terrorized! Well,
at least not from the start. At
least not yet at that point,
though I'll admit I was
becoming a bit cautious.
SAM: "Red Chief," says I to the
kid, "would you like to go
home?"

RED CHIEF: And I answered him

right away. What for would I
wanna go home? I don't have
any fun at home. I hate to go to
school, too. I liked camping out.
I wanted to stay.
SAM: There, that pretty much
shows you how the boy felt
about it. Then he starts begging
me, "You won't take me back
home again, will you Snakeeye?" Well, I told him it
wouldn't be right away, that
we'd stay there in the cave for a
while.
RED CHIEF: [To the judge.] I
never had such fun in all my
life!
JUDGE: Your father doesn't take
you camping ever?
RED CHIEF: No sir. He's too
busy with his money. Can I try
your hammer on that bug? Are
you wearing a wig?
JUDGE: Go on, Mr. Spindler.
This is getting more interesting
every minute.
SAM: Well, Your Honor, we went
to bed about eleven o'clock. We
spread down some wide
blankets and quilts and put Red
Chief between us to make him
comfortable. We weren't afraid
he'd run away. In fact, Your
Honor, we weren't holding him
against his will at all. He kept us
awake for three more hours,
jumping up and reaching for his
rifle and screeching stuff like
"Hush, pardner," in mine and
Bill's ears every time he fancied

2003-2008

Script Page - 5

that a crackle of a twig or the

rustle of a leaf revealed to his
young imagination the stealthy
approach of an outlaw band.
RED CHIEF: They was coming
for us, sure enough!
SAM: Finally, I fell asleep
anyway, and, right in the middle
of a dream that I'd been
kidnapped and chained to a tree
by a ferocious pirate with red
hair, I was awakened by a
series of awful screams. When I
opened my eyes, the horizon
was just beginning to glow a bit
with the barest hint of daylight.
RED CHIEF: Red Chief keepum
word. [Sticks his tongue out at
Bill. Then to the judge...] Can I
get my feathers back? Why
aren't feathers made of clay?
BILL: Little...
SAM: Now these screams, Your
Honor, were not the kind of
yells, or howls, or shouts, or
whoops, or yalps such as you'd
expect from a manly set of
vocal organs. They were
indecent, terrifying, humiliating
screams like from a young
woman who'd just seen a ghost
or a caterpillar, and they were
coming from Mr. Bill Driscoll.
BILL: They were not!
SAM: It's an awful thing to hear
a strong, desperate man of Bill's
size scream incontinently like
that in a cave.
BILL: Well, what didja expect?
The little monster was sitting on

my chest with one hand twined

in my hair, and in the other
hand he had the sharp caseknife we were using for slicing
bacon. The wild Indian was
industriously and realistically
trying to take my scalp, just the
way he'd said he would the
evening before.
RED CHIEF: Red Chief keepum
word. Paleface die.
JUDGE: I admire a man who
keeps his word.
BILL: Your honor, I object.
JUDGE: You can't object to what
a judge says unless he tells you
to. Now go on, Mr. Spindler.
SAM: Well, Your Honor, I
managed to get the knife away
from the kid and made him lie
down again until it got light. But
from that moment on, Bill's
spirit was broken.
BILL: It was not broken! I had
maybe become a little naturally
apprehensive, but I was never
broken!
SAM: Well, whatever you call it,
you never closed an eye again
in sleep for as long as Red Chief
was with us.
BILL: Yea, well you weren't
much better. I admit you dozed
off for a bit, but all of a sudden
when the sun actually got up,
you jumped up kinda fast which
isn't like you. I think you were
remembering Red Chief's
promise that you would be

2003-2008

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burned at the stake at the rising

of the sun.
SAM: Well now, I wasn't exactly
nervous or afraid, you see, but I
did want to sit up for a while
and smoke my pipe and kinda
lean back against the rock.
BILL: Ha! When I asked you
what you were getting up so
soon for, you said, "Who me?
Oh, I got a kind of a pain in my
shoulder. I thought sitting up
would rest it." You was lying,
Sam!
SAM: Well, you didn't have to
call me a liar just because I said
that about my shoulder now did
you?
BILL: It's a fact. You can't deny
it. You were afraid. You was to
be burned at sunrise, and you
was afraid he'd do it, too!
SAM: Well, if he coulda found a
match, I suppose he would
have!
BILL: Your Honor, I was starting
to wonder at that point if
anybody would pay out money
to get a little imp like Red Chief
back home, but Sam said he
was sure that our boy was just
the kind that parents dote on.
SAM: Thereafter, I told Bill and
the Chief to cook some
breakfast while I went up on the
mountain to reconnoiter. From
the top of the peak, over toward
Summit, I was expecting to see
the sturdy yeomanry of the
village armed with scythes and

pitchforks beating the

countryside for the dastardly
kidnappers. But what I saw
instead was a peaceful
landscape dotted with one man
plowing with his mule and
another fixing a fence. Nobody
was dragging the creek for a
body; no couriers were dashing
hither and yon, bringing tidings
of hope to distract the parents.
In fact, if I may say so, there
was a sylvan attitude of
somnolent sleepiness pervading
that section of the external
outward surface of Alabama that
lay exposed to my view.
"Perhaps," says I to myself, "it
has not yet been discovered
that the wolves have stolen
away the tender lambkin from
the fold." Then I said out loud,
"Heaven help those poor
miserable wolves!"
JUDGE: He he.
BILL: Yes, heaven help all us
lonely, miserable wolves.
SAM: Then, when I got back to
the cave, I found Bill backed up
against the side of it, breathing
hard, and the boy threatening
to smash him with a rock half as
big as a coconut.
RED CHIEF: [Let's out a wolf's
howl and then laughs.]
BILL: The boy put a red-hot
boiled potato down my back.
What did you expect? And then
he mashed it with his foot!
When I boxed his ears for doing
that, he turned on me with the

2003-2008

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rock. 'Bout then, I coulda used a

gun to protect myself.
JUDGE: Do tell, do tell. My oh
my. Do tell.
SAM: Well, I took the rock away
from the boy, Your Honor, and
tried to patch things up.
RED CHIEF: No man ever yet
struck the great Red Chief what
didn't bring down vengeance
upon his head! I had my sacred
honor as an Indian chief to
protect.
SAM: So the boy made some
pretty unrepeatable threats to
Bill, but then he quieted down
until we ate what was left of the
breakfast after it had been on
the fire too long.
BILL: The boy gulped down his
food real fast, and then he took
a piece of leather wrapped with
some string out of his pocket
and headed outside the cave,
unwinding the string as he
went. I got concerned that he
mighta been so upset that he'd
try to run away, but Sam said
not to worry about it, that no
matter what happened, the boy
didn't seem inclined to want to
go home.
SAM: I then delivered my report
of my reconnaissance to Bill,
telling him that there didn't
seem to be much excitement
going on down in Summit, and
that maybe the boy had not
been missed yet. His folks, I
figured, might be thinking he
went to spend the night with

"Aunt Jane" or one of the

neighbors. It seemed sure,
however, that he would be
missed today, and I told Bill
that we had better get some
kind of message off to the boy's
parents demanding, or rather,
suggesting a two-thousanddollar ransom... er, reward for
the return of the boy.
BILL: That was about when we
heard a kind of a war-whoop,
such as David the shepherd boy
might have emitted when he
knocked out the champion,
Goliath. It turns out it was a
sling that Red Chief had pulled
out of his pocket, and he was
whirling it around his head, and
then he let's go with it.
SAM: I dodged, and heard a
heavy thud and a kind of a sigh
from Bill, kinda like a horse
gives out when you take off his
saddle. A black rock, about the
size of a pigeon's egg, had
caught Bill just behind his left
ear. Well, he got real loose like
his bones had all been
disconnected from each other,
and he fell forward right across
the fire and the frying pan of
hot water we'd been heating up
to do the dishes with.
RED CHIEF: [Let's out a war
whoop, tapping his hand on his
mouth Indian style.]
JUDGE: This story just keeps
getting better and better. Do
proceed, gentlemen.
SAM: Your Honor, I dragged old
Bill out of the fire and poured

2003-2008

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cold water all over him for about

half an hour while Red Chief hid
behind a rock, scanning the
plains for palefaces and making
all kinds of Indian grunts.
BILL: After that, I had a new
appreciation for the Biblical King
Herod, the one who had all the
children slaughtered.
SAM: Bill didn't mean that Your
Honor.
BILL: Oh yes I did!
JUDGE: Oh yes he did!
SAM: Well, Your Honor, who can
truly know what's in a man's
mind? But anyway, old Bill
began to beg me pathetically:
"You won't go away and leave
me here alone with him, will you
Sam?" So I went out and
grabbed the kid and shook him
so hard his freckles rattled...
Well, of course, I didn't really
shake him, but he knew I was
serious. "If you don't behave,"
says I, "I'll take you straight
home! Now, are you going to be
good or not?"
RED CHIEF: I was only funning.
You shoulda known that, Snakeeye. I didn't mean to hurt Old
Hank, but why'd he get so
rough with me just for hitting
him with a rock from my old
sling? It's Biblical, ain't it? And I
didn't push him into the fire. He
did that hisself.
SAM: Then the boy promised
that if we didn't send him home,
he'd behave, and then he added

a condition: He wanted to play

"the Black Scout." I told him I
didn't know that game, but that
he and Mr. Driscoll could play
since Bill was going to be his
playmate for the day while I
went to town on business.
BILL: Your Honor, I don't mean
to speak ill of my partner here,
but...
JUDGE: Then don't.
SAM: I made the boy shake
hands with Bill, even though
Bill's hand was trembling so.
Then I took Bill aside and told
him I was going to Poplar Cove,
a little village three miles from
the cave, and find out what I
could about how the kidnapp...,
er..., disappearance of the boy
had been regarded in Summit.
Also, I told him that I thought it
best that we send a peremptory
letter to old man Dorset, the
boy's father, that day,
explaining how he could
cooperate and reward us
properly for the return of the
boy.
BILL: You know, Sam, I've
stood by you without batting an
eye in earthquakes, fire and
flood; in poker games, dynamite
outrages, police raids, train
robberies and cyclones. I never
lost my nerve until that twolegged skyrocket of a kid came
along. I begged you not to leave
me alone with him, but you did
anyway!
SAM: I was only going to be
gone until some time in the

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Script Page - 9

afternoon, Your Honor, and I

explained to Bill that all he had
to do was keep the boy amused
and quiet until I returned. I then
turned our attention to the
writing of the letter.
BILL: The whole time we were
writing, the Indian chief there
was strutting up and down,
wrapped in a blanket, guarding
the mouth of the cave. It was
pretty obvious to me that the
boy was intending to continue
his games, but I guess that just
went on past old "Snake-eye."
SAM: He's just a boy, ain't he?
How was I supposed to know...
BILL: I begged Sam with tears
in my eyes to make the ransom
just fifteen hundred dollars
instead of two thousand. I
wasn't attempting to decry the
celebrated moral aspect of
parental affection, but we were
dealing with human beings
down in Summit at the Dorset
home, and it didn't seem human
for anybody to give up two
thousand dollars for that fortypound hunk of freckled wildcat.
I was willing to take a chance at
fifteen hundred dollars and I
told Sam he could charge the
difference up to me.
SAM: So, to set Bill's mind at
peace, I acceded, and we
collaborated a letter.
JUDGE: Where is that letter
now?
DORSET: I have it right here,
Your Honor.

JUDGE: Would you read it out

loud for all of us to hear, please.
DORSET: It reads: "To Mr.
Ebenezer Dorset, Esquire. We
have your boy concealed in a
place far from Summit. It is
useless for you or the most
skillful detectives to attempt to
find him. Absolutely, the only
terms on which you can have
him restored to you are these:
We demand fifteen hundred
dollars in large bills for his
return; the money to be left at
midnight to-night at the same
spot and in the same box as
your reply--hereinafter
described. If you agree to these
terms, send your answer in
writing by a solitary messenger
to-night at half-past eight
o'clock. After crossing Owl
Creek, on the road to Poplar
Cove, there are three large
trees about a hundred yards
apart, close to the fence of the
wheat field on the right-hand
side. At the bottom of the
fence-post, opposite the third
tree, will be found a small
pasteboard box. The messenger
will place the answer in this box
and return immediately to
Summit. If you attempt any
treachery or fail to comply with
our demand as stated, you will
never see your boy again. If you
pay the money as demanded,
he will be returned to you safe
and well within three hours.
These terms are final, and, if
you do not accede to them, no
further communication will be
attempted." And then it's

2003-2008

Script Page - 10

in this game, and he said that I

was to be the horse. I had to
get down on my hands and
knees and hightail it off to the
stockade with Red Chief, that is
the Black Scout, on my back.

signed, Your Honor, "Two

Desperate Men."
JUDGE: I like that. Nice touch.
"Two Desperate Men." He he.
Okay, Mr. Spindler, I suppose
you'll want to go on from here.
SAM: Yes sir. Well, I addressed
the letter to Dorset, and put it
in my pocket. As I was about to
start out for Poplar Cove, the
kid comes up to me and
reminds me I said he could play
"the Black Scout," whatever that
was, while I was gone. "Of
course," says I, "Go ahead and
play it. Mr. Bill, Uncle Bill will
play it with you." Then I thought
I'd better ask, "What kind of a
game is it, anyway?"
JUDGE: Maybe the boy should
explain it.
RED CHIEF: Ya see, I'm the
Black Scout, and I had to ride to
the stockade to warn the
settlers that the Indians was
coming.
JUDGE: Now wait a minute.
Weren't you an Indian?
RED CHIEF: Nah. I got tired of
playing Indian, and besides, it
was always getting me in
trouble. I wanted to be the
Black Scout instead.

SAM: I told Bill he'd better keep

the boy occupied until we could
get the scheme going, and that
he should loosen up. Well, Bill
gets down on his all fours, and a
look comes into his eye like a
rabbit's when you catch it in a
trap. "How far's this stockade,
kid?" he asks in an
unnecessarily husky manner of
voice.
BILL: "Ninety miles," says he!
"And you have to hump yourself
to get there on time." Then he
comes along side me and
prepares to mount. "Whoa,
now!" he says. Then he jumps
up on my back and digs his
heels into my side.
SAM: Bill begged me, Your
Honor, to come back just as
soon as I could. He said he
wished we'd set the ranso...,
reward at only a thousand, and
for that the boy gave him a
good kick.
JUDGE: Did you rear up, Mr.
Driscoll? He he.
BILL: [Just fumes.]

SAM: It sounded harmless

enough to me, so I said go
ahead. I figured Bill would be
pretty good at helping to foil
those pesky savages.
BILL: Yeah, but then I asked the
kid what I was supposed to do

SAM: I walked over to Poplar

Cove and sat around the post
office and store, talking with the
chawbacons that came in to
trade. One whiskerando says
that he hears Summit is all in a

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stir on account of Elder

Ebenezer Dorset's boy having
been lost or stolen. That was all
I wanted to know. I bought
some smoking tobacco, referred
casually to the price of blackeyed peas, posted my letter
surreptitiously and came away.
The postmaster said the mailcarrier would come by in an
hour to take the mail on to
Summit.
JUDGE: So then you went back
to your camp?
SAM: Yes sir. But when I got
back, Bill and the boy were not
to be found. I explored the
vicinity of the cave, and risked a
yodel or two, but there was no
response. I knew I shouldn't
panic, so I lighted my pipe and
sat down on a mossy bank to
await developments. In about
half an hour I heard the bushes
rattle, and Bill wobbled out into
the little glade in front of the
cave. He stopped, took off his
hat and wiped his face with a
red handkerchief.
JUDGE: So, Mr. Driscoll, where
had you been?
BILL: Well, Your Honor, I didn't
want Sam to think that I was a
renegade or a lousy partner, but
I just couldn't help what I'd
done. I'm a grown person with
masculine proclivities and habits
of self-defense, but there come
a time when all systems of
egotism and predominance fail.
"The boy is gone," I told Sam. "I

have sent him home. The deal is

off."
SAM: Needless to say, I was
shocked.
BILL: Your Honor, there was
martyrs in old times that
suffered death rather than give
up the particular graft they
enjoyed. None of 'em ever was
subjugated to such supernatural
tortures as I had been. I tried to
be faithful to Sam's and my
articles of depredation, but
there came a limit.
JUDGE: What was the trouble,
Uncle Bill? [Wipes an amused
tear from his eye.]
BILL: I was rode, Your Honor,
the ninety miles to the
stockade, every inch of it. Then,
when the settlers was rescued, I
was given oats to eat, but these
oats were the kind made outa
sand, which is not a very
palatable substitute. And then,
for about an hour, I had to
explain to the boy why there
was nothin' in holes, how a road
can run both ways at once, and
what makes the grass green. I
tell ya, a human can only stand
so much. I took him by the neck
of his clothes and drug him
down the mountain. On the way
he kicks my legs black-and-blue
form the knees down; and I had
two or three bites on my thumb
that needed to be cauterized
too.
SAM: It was kinda hard, Your
Honor, not to be a bit amused.

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JUDGE: Now, now, Mr. Spindler.

We must keep our decorum.
[Wipes more tears of laughter
from his eyes.]
BILL: I told Sam, "He's gone,
gone home!" I told Sam I'd
showed the boy the road back
home to Summit and chased
him about eight feet down it. I
didn't want to lose the ransom,
but it was either gonna be that
or they'd be carting old Bill
Driscoll to the madhouse. There,
I'd said it, and I was beginning
to feel some real ineffable peace
and growing content for the first
time in two days.
SAM: But you have to hear this
Your Honor. "Bill," says I, "there
isn't any heart disease in your
family, is there?" He, he, he.
Bill says, "No, nothing chronic
except malaria and accidents.
Why?" So I says, Then you
might want to turn around, and
have a look behind you."
JUDGE: How did I guess?
SAM: Now Bill, he turns around
and sees the boy standing there
behind him, just a grinning
away. You can imagine how Bill
lost his complexion real quick,
becoming a kind of
quintessential paleface, and he
sat down plumb on the ground
and began to pluck aimlessly at
the grass, and he started
snapping little twigs between his
fingers. For an hour, Your
Honor, I was afraid for his mind.
JUDGE: You are truly a man of
compassion, Mr. Spindler.

SAM: I had to act to save him,

Your Honor, so I told him that
my scheme was to put the
whole job through immediately
and that we would get the
ransom and be off with it by
midnight if old man Dorset, the
boy's father, fell in with our
proposition. My strategy seemed
to work, and Bill braced up
enough to give the kid a weak
sort of a smile and he even
promised to play the Russian in
a Japanese war with him just as
soon as he felt a little better.
JUDGE: The Russian?
BILL: I wasn't too up on my
history in that respect, Your
Honor.
SAM: I had a scheme for
collecting our reward without
danger of being snared by
counter-plots that ought to
commend itself to professional
kidnapp..., er..., child care
specialists, Your Honor. The tree
under which the answer was to
be left--and the money later on-was close to the road side with
big, bare fields on all sides. If a
gang of constables would have
been watching for any one to
come for the note, they could
see him a long way off crossing
the fields or in the road. But no,
sirree! At half-past eight I was
already up in that tree and just
as well hidden as a tree toad,
waiting for the messenger to
arrive.
JUDGE: Such clever precautions
for a man of good intentions!

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SAM: Exactly on time, a halfgrown boy rides up the road on

a bicycle, locates the
pasteboard box at the foot of
the fence-post, slips a folded
piece of paper into it and pedals
away again back toward
Summit. I waited an hour and
then concluded that things were
okay. Then I slid down that
tree, got the note, slipped along
the fence till I struck the woods,
and was back at the cave in
another half an hour where,
after the afore mentioned
events regarding the Black
Scout, I read the note to Mr.
Driscoll.
JUDGE: Do you have this note
with you?

BILL: [Begins weeping.]

JUDGE: "You bring Johnny...."
So that's your name, Johnny.
"You bring Johnny home and
pay me two hundred and fifty
dollars in cash, and I agree to
take him off our hands. You had
better come at night, for the
neighbors believe he is lost, and
I couldn't be responsible for
what they would do to anybody
they saw bringing him back."
And it's signed, "Very
respectfully, Ebenezer Dorset."
Well, at least you didn't add the
"Esquire" Mr. Dorset.
DORSET: It didn't seem
appropriate, Your Honor.
BILL: [Changing from weeping
to a kind of hideous laughter.]
Old Sam screams, "Great
pirates of Penzance!" That's
what you said, Mr. Sam! You
was sputtering like a steam
engine. "...of all the
impudent...," you says! Ha ha
ha.

SAM: Yes sir, right here in my

pocket.
JUDGE: May I see it please?
Thank you. Hmm. "To: Two
Desperate Men." He he. I like
that more each time I hear it.
Ahem. "Gentlemen: I received
your letter to-day by post, in
regard to the ransom you ask
for the return of my son."

SAM: I have to admit, partner,

it was you who emerged as the
most rational at that moment of
crisis.

SAM: I'd like to note, Your

Honor, for the record, that we
had not used the word,
"ransom" in our demand note.
JUDGE: How vividly I recall,
yes, Mr. Spindler. Now let's see
here. "I think you are a little
high in your demands, and I
hereby make you a counterproposition, which I am inclined
to believe you will accept."

BILL: [Regaining his

composure.] Well, I figured
what's two hundred fifty dollars,
after all? We had that much
with some to spare. One more
night with the kid woulda sent
me to a bed in Bedlam Hospital.
Besides, being a complete
gentleman, I figured that Mr.
Dorset was actually being a
spendthrift for making us such a

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Script Page - 14

liberal offer. I strongly urged my

partner here to not let the
chance go.
SAM: So I agreed. The little ewe
lamb had somewhat got on my
own nerves too.
BILL: We took him home that
night. Sam got him to go by
telling him that his father had
brought a silver-mounted rifle
and a pair of moccasins for him,
and that we'd all go hunting
bears the next day.
SAM: It was just twelve o'clock
when we knocked at Ebenezer's
front door. Just at the moment
when I should have been
extracting the fifteen hundred
dollars from the box under tree
if things had gone as originally
planned, Bill counted out the
two hundred and fifty dollars
into Dorset's hand. I watched,
totally humiliated and
mortified... and relieved.
BILL: When the kid found out
we were going to leave him at
his home and that there was no
rifle, moccasins or bear hunt, he
started up a howl like a calliope
and fastened himself as tight as
a leech to my leg. His father
had to peel him away gradually
like a porous plaster. "How long
can you hold him?" I asked the
father.
SAM: I can still hear old
Dorset's answer: "I'm not as
strong as I used to be, but I
think I can promise you ten
minutes for getting away."

BILL: We figured that would do.

In ten minutes we could no
doubt be across the Central,
Southern and Middle Western
States, and be legging it
trippingly for the Canadian
border.
SAM: But actually, we only got
as far as meeting up with the
Sheriff here.
JUDGE: Sheriff! I want you to
take Mr. Dorset into custody.
DORSET: What?!
SHERIFF: Er, Judge, you don't
seem to understand...
JUDGE: I understand perfectly
well. Now take him into custody
right quick or I'll have you
taking yourself into custody as
well.
SHERIFF: Yes sir. [Takes Dorset
into custody.]
JUDGE: And now Sheriff, I want
you to take this boy into
custody too.
RED CHIEF: Yahoo! I'm gonna
go to jail! I always wanted to
see the inside of a jail. Do they
make the beds outa iron? Are
the bars too close together for
me to squeeze through? Are
there griddlecakes for
breakfast? Can I sleep without
sheets?
JUDGE: Now I want all of you
folks to stand there and look at
me. I'm gonna pronounce
sentence in this here matter.

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DORSET: Your Honor, I object.

You and I have known each
other for a long...
JUDGE: [Bangs gavel.] That'll
be enough, Mr. Dorset.
Apparently we have not known
each other well enough! Now
here's my sentence. First of all,
you, Mr. Dorset, are guilty of
extorting two hundred fifty
dollars outa two desperate men.
I order you to give it back, and
to pay punitive damages to
these same men of an additional
two hundred fifty dollars.
DORSET: Your Honor!
BILL: Whoopie!
SAM: Well, I'll be...
JUDGE: [Bang, bang.] Now as
for our two desperate men here,
I find you guilty of reckless child
care practices, general stupidity,
and not knowing how to make
an honest living. I therefore fine
you five hundred dollars,
payable to the city of Summit,
of course. I hereby direct that
that money will be used by the
public library to purchase
appropriate books on the proper
rearing of children.
BILL: There goes our money!
Uh... to a worthy cause, of
course.
JUDGE: Mr. Dorset, I further
sentence you to reading all of
the books on parenting that will
be purchased by the library, and
to thereafter hold seminars in
your own home at your own

expense on the subject of the

proper raising of children--for a
period of not less than five
years.
DORSET: But Judge, I'm too
bus..., [Bang, bang.] er, yes
Your Honor.
JUDGE: Now, Mr. Red Chief,
Black Scout, Johnny Dorset. I
find you guilty of some pretty
bad behavior and not caring
about the pain suffered by
others. I sentence you therefore
to helping and feeding and
caring for every single stray cat
and dog in this town from now
until you are sixteen years old,
all at the dollar expense of your
father, of course.
SHERIFF: That's a clever
sentencing, Your Honor!
JUDGE: There's one more thing.
Mr. Driscoll and Mr. Spindler. I
sentence you to confinement
within the town limits of the
town of Summit for a period of
not less than five years, which
is a lot better than spending
twenty years at the county work
farm. During said time, you will
work keeping the town
properties free of weeds and
varmints, and doing anything
else I tell you to do. For all of
this, you will receive a fair
wage, and you will learn to live
within the limits of that wage
because I'm forbidding you to
enter into any kind of business
proposition whatsoever. Mr.
Dorset there has some spare

2003-2008

Script Page - 16

rooms I'm sure he'd be willing

to rent you.
BILL: Isn't that a bit cruel and
unusual, your honor, having to
live so close to...? [Bang, bang.]
JUDGE: And oh yea, once every
month, you two desperate men
are to take Mr. Johnny Dorset
here, and also Mr. Ebenezer
Dorset, camping for the
weekend, regardless of the
weather. I might see fit to
come along myself sometimes.
[Bangs gavel.] Court is
adjourned until the next time
it's needed, which I hope ain't
gonna be for another five years
at least. Sheriff, get these
people outa here. [Bang, bang.]
---The End---

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Script Page - 17