Arise, My Love Page #2

- Yes, Ford, Edison...

He's left this behind.

It's addressed to me.

"I, Thomas Martin,

of sound mind...

It's interesting what a man

will write before he dies.

"I hereby devise and decree

that my entire monetary estate,

consisting in $29.87,

be distributed among the soldiers

of my firing squad,

50 cents to the drummer

and 17 cents to the commander,

with the compliments

of the corpse".

- Light-hearted devil!

- Incorrigible!

"Finally, I direct that there be

no melancholy

among these, my heirs,

as I die an orphan

and a bachelor,

leaving no parents, no widow,

no offspring,

and no hard feelings.

Thomas Martin".

If the firing squad learns

they've lost this legacy,

they'll shoot me!

"A bachelor", "no widow".

Damn it!

We've been deceived!

She's not his wife!

I've been tricked!

They must be stopped!

The telephone!

Where's the telephone?

You're holding it.

- Where?

- In your hand.

Give me the Captain of the Day.

Give me the Chief of Police!

Give me the airport!

How'd you get away with it?

That was all the makeup I needed.

Of course, my passport

had to be corrected a bit.

How'd you get past

so may guards?

- They carried me in to the couch.

- The what?

After three days waiting

for an interview,

- I whip up a faint.

- Then a few hours of crying.

Yes, sir.

His Excellency cried like a baby.

I had to blow his nose

while he signed the pardon.

That ought to tickle

the readers of...

- What's the name of the paper?

- Associated News.

400 hundred of them.

New York to Honolulu.

Tell you what? For six months,

I'll subscribe to each one.

If you take 300 of each,

I could get 400 scooters.

You don't want me to read

three Wichita Gazette's a day.

What kind of church

makes a sound like that?

- That's the prison alarm bell.

- What?

Don't tell me something

slipped up

after all the trouble

I've taken!

What's the matter?

All cars must stop

when the alarm sounds.

- Why?

- Regulations.

Maybe some prisoner escaped.

Excuse me, Madame.

Sorry.

That way!

They went that way!

I don't care.

You'll have to pay for this!

That way!

That way!

It's that way!

We'll never make it.

The roads will be blocked!

- Thought we were going by plane?

- The airport will be covered.

- Where'd they go?

- That way, to the right!

- Why didn't you listen to me?

- Which way did they go?

That way.

On that turn.

- Soldiers!

- I see them. Hold tight.

There's one!

What's going on?

What do you want?

Come on, get in!

- My typewriter!

- For the love of Pete!

They went that way!

They stole a car!

- Here comes my little prayer.

- What prayer?

Always when I take off.

Song of Solomon, Chapter 2,

Verse 13.

"Arise my love,

my fair one and come away".

Back home again!

You can sit up.

Get up, don't be so scared.

- You think I'm scared?

- Yeah.

Well, I was. I was scared

the story was petering out.

You know, this comes in handy.

I needed a good climax.

I'm delighted.

And a great climax, at that.

We've got 47 gallons.

At two miles to the gallon,

that's 94. It's 120 to the border.

We have to land in Spain!

If we get a tail wind,

maybe we can glide the difference.

"Gliding between life and death".

- That'd make good reading.

- Yeah.

I probably would've thought

of that, anyway.

- Are they after us?

- They're not looking for birds.

- They're pursuit planes!

- They'll be on us in 10 minutes.

Maybe this is too much

of a climax!

As for me, I'm living

on velvet, anyway.

Don't stop pitching!

I want to write that story.

There's a little cotton wool

we can hid in for a while.

"We hid in the clouds,

a whipped cream sanctuary".

Is that the sort of stuff

you write, Augusta?

Why don't you rewrite your name?

Augusta! It's like a battleship.

They call me "Gusto".

"In Paris with Gusto".

- Haven't I seen that somewhere?

- No.

It's a fashion column.

"Chiffon makes a comeback".

"Suzanne scoops skunk corset".

Don't tell me this story will be

what the fugitive was wearing!

No. From now on,

its front page features for me.

With a by-line.

Syndicated and copyrighted!

- You're going to write right now?

- Right now is right.

I want to be ready for the first

French telegraph office.

Now, "Thomas Martin",

what's your middle name?

Thomas Fuller Martin,

often known as Thomas Fuller,

"Marlakey".

I'll bet.

What's that for?

Just wanted to hear

if they're around.

With those planes after us

and a weak gas supply,

there's a 50-50 chance

of making it to the border.

Do you mind if I write

"one chance in a thousand"?

Why not be practical?

Either we're caught and

you've written that for nothing

or we land in France and you've got

all the time in the world.

Well?

If it's going to be our last hour,

let's spend it like sensible people.

For instance?

You could kiss my earlobe.

It's funny you're sitting beside me.

You're precisely my type.

- How long were you in prison?

- Ten months.

Yeah.

The first girl I was crazy about

was like you.

Or take Hazel,

the hostess on the line I flew

from Fort Worth to New Orleans.

One April night, no passengers.

Just Hazel and I.

I lost my commercial license.

What I was saying was she looked

a lot like Gusto. Same hair,

like what I said,

precisely my type.

Honey, after 10 months in jail,

anything would be your type,

even a Saint Bernard.

Ever since you kissed me

I've been...

- Hungry. You're just hungry.

- No, it's you. Really it is.

There are three ways

of approaching a woman.

The first one winds between

rose bushes and forget-me-nots.

It takes about six months.

The second is dusty,

deep understanding and fellowship.

That takes about six weeks.

But the third way's a shortcut.

The last time a man tried

a shortcut with me, I bit his nose!

Why, Gusto!

There they are!

- Right upstairs.

- Can they see us?

No, but if they swoop,

they could dent our fenders.

- Can't you do something?

- Well...

Let's go up and say "hello".

Put your belt on.

- You alright?

- Yes.

- How are you feeling?

- I left my stomach in the cloud.

What's the matter?

Are we hit?

That's what they think, I hope.

Now, if we can only locate

your stomach.

Don't bother.

How soon before they find us?

They'll lose an hour

looking for our wreckage below.

- You're pretty clever.

- I was trying to tell you that.

Now, back to those three ways...

Come on. The train's in.

They're in Car 8.

Hold it, Gusto! Stay where you are.

Come on, boys, step on it!

Smile, Monsieur Martin.

Ready, you squirts?

Miss Nash, as European head

of the Associated News,

it is my privilege to welcome you

after your brilliant exploit.

You've thrilled millions

with your story which appeared

exclusively with the Associated News

in 400 papers around the world.

- Congratulations, Miss Nash.

- Thank you, Mr. Phillips.

I'm glad to do my bit for

a fellow American and Associated.

What you did will go down

in the annals of journalism,

side by side with the story

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