At the Circus Page #3

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With the thief on the train|and the legal eagle on the case...

the money is practically in your pocket.

Just keep an eye on your pocket.

- No, you don't.|- But I've got to...

There's no use talking, Jeff.

Money or no money,|you're not going to get up.

You don't understand.|If that thief gets away with that $10,000...

I lose everything.

Sorry, there's nothing|you can do about it now.

Get some sleep.|In the morning you'll feel a lot better.

- Yes, and a lot poorer.|- Does it matter?

- Did you get anything?|- Yes. A bump on the head.

- How can you tell?|- You know what I think?

The guy who hit Jeff on the head|and knocked him out didn't like him.

Don't let's jump to concussions.

Does anybody here look suspicious,|aside from you?

Mr. Carter, the manager.|He's been making trouble.

- Carter?|- But he no steal the money.

He's too smart for that.|You know who I think steal the money?

His friend Goliath. He's dumb.

The legal eagle is on his track.|If he's guilty, he'll have to prove it.

Patois.

You said you was on Goliath's track.

This is a detour.|I'll grill her until she's well done.

She must know something,|even if it isn't about the case.

She's innocent.|Now then, where's Goliath?

- In the next car.|- Where is he?

Here it is, but I ought to tell you...

Tell me nothing.|It's my job to get the facts.

This fellow will face the shrewd,|relentless grilling...

of the juggernaut of justice,|the Casanova of the courthouse...

the Blackstone of the barroom.

Now watch the eagle swoop down.

Who's there?

You'll find out, my fine-feathered felon.|Hors d'oeuvres.

Goliath? I'll get to the bottom of this.

- Well?|- Wrong room.

I'm Goliath. Who are you?

Me? Just a little nobody|who wears glasses.

I can hardly see a lick.

- Who is this guy?|- That's Mr. Loophole. He's a lawyer.

A lawyer. Isn't that silly?

I've been disbarred for years.|I can show you my canceled diploma.

Smart guy, huh?

How would you like|I should break you in two?

Could I file separate income taxes?

Just what do you want?

Frankly, Mr. Goliath,|when I see a wrong done...

I can't rest until it's righted, that's all.

So I brought Tony here to apologize,|that's what.

Tony, I want you to tell this lovable chap|that you're sorry.

All right, Mr. Goliath.

I'm sorry you knocked out Jeff Wilson|and stole his money.

This coat is haunted.

Maybe I'm Captain Flag.

He's as innocent as a newborn babe,|and much bigger.

That settles it.|Now we got to look for a new suspect.

- Yes, and a new lawyer.|- You're not going to quit.

As of now.

This guy Goliath, don't be afraid of him.|He's muscle-bound.

And I'm homeward-bound.

How are we going|to get back Jeff's $10,000?

It's very easy. Offer a reward of $15,000.

Hello.

- Did I frighten you, Mr. Loophole?|- No. Nothing ever frightens me.

I took rumba lessons by mail.

Every time I hear a whistle, I think|it's the postman with another lesson.

Jeff's asleep, so I came looking for you.|Has anything developed?

Everything's under control,|except my pulse.

Jeff is very grateful for what you're doing.

It's nothing at all.

You know, if you can straighten this out...

it would mean a great deal to both of us.

Both of you?

I get it. You and Jeff, Jeff and you.

Young love. A maid in distress.

Fear not, my lady.|A Loophole never deserts a sinking ship.

- Even if it's a train.|- Thank you.

I'll have this case straightened out|before sunrise...

before the rooster crows,|before this flower fades.

Here, my lady.

If we only had a clue.

I don't need the lawyer.|All we need is a clue.

What's the matter?|No, I no smoke this brand.

I got to find the clue.

What are you doing?

I know. You smoke the cigar,|you knock yourself out.

But that's no good.

I got to find the clue.|Where I find the clue?

Gibraltar? You crazy.|Gibraltar no smoke cigars.

I got to find the clue. Now, where I find...

There's a head|I'd like to have over my fireplace.

I got it.

A fractured skull, I trust.

- No. A clue.|- A clue?

Punchy find this cigar|right where Jeff was knocked out.

Great. Now, then,|who on this train smokes cigars?

Or heavy underwear?

I know. The strongman. Goliath.

Nonsense. It wouldn't be him.|His public wouldn't like it.

We got to think of somebody else.

Wait, I got it this time. The midget!

- A midget?|- Yeah.

- A small midget?|- The small midget.

- That's our man.|- You sure?

Can you prove that he smoked the cigar?

We'll compare smells. If they're alike,|this is the rope that'll hang him.

- Adieu!|- Adieu!

Punchy, stay outside.

Let Loophole do the talking,|and you keep quiet.

See that you remember that.

All we got for a clue is this cigar butt.

So I'll trap him into offering us|one of his cigars.

If his cigar matches this one,|he's unquestionably guilty.

- That's right.|- We mustn't let on what we're after.

- I won't say anything.|- Yes, but don't talk either.

- Shut up.|- Shut up.

What do you want?

Sure, we come in if you insist.

- Is this a friend of yours?|- I should say not. He's a lawyer.

Yeah?

Why? Do you want|to make anything out of it?

Try to bully me,|I'll lick you the best day you ever had.

- What brings you here?|- Nothing important.

We just want to trap you|into a confession.

Confession?

Nice work, Einstein.|That's what I call using strategy.

I know my stuff, huh?

It's kind of late to be visiting, isn't it?

We just happened to be passing|your house...

and we saw a firefly|burning in your window.

Did you lose this?

No, I didn't lose it. Where did you find it?

Never mind that.|Are these your teeth prints?

- Tony, I guess we're licked.|- I guess so, boss.

The man is undoubtedly innocent.|No hard feelings.

None at all. Let's shake on it.

By the way, I'm all out of smokes.

Do you happen|to have a spare cigar on you?

Here. I got one.

I got one for you, too, and for myself.

Thanks. Let me get you a light.

Why don't you trade your head in|on a bowling ball?

Don't you realize|I'm trying to get incriminating evidence?

Let's smoke these up quickly.

- Then I'll ask for one of his cigars.|- Here we are, boys.

No thanks. Bad luck. Three, I'm a midget.

That's a superstish.

Has anybody got a match?

I asked for a match, not a forest fire.

What's going on here, anyway?

By the way, do you happen to have|a spare cigar on you?

I think I got one. Here.

You're a big help, you are.

I'll clean up this case if you'll keep quiet.

Last time I saw that match,|there was apples growing on it.

You got the apples, too.

Hitting Jeff on the head|and stealing his money...

that ain't playing ball.

I bet your father spent...

the first year of your life|throwing rocks at the stork.

I know how to get rid of you.|Smoke one of your own cigars.

I don't think I got any more.

Good. What a break.|Now I'll make him confess.

By the way...

do you happen to have|a spare cigar on you?

Wait a minute. I find one.

It's the last one I got, but you can have it.

I couldn't think of taking your last cigar.

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