Barbary Coast Page #5

They've got snakes in their hair and

cats' eyes and no hearts at all.

You can always tell them easy.

This is more fun than digging gold.

If you weren't a lady from Gramercy Park

and I weren't a poetical half-wit...

...full of the most idiotic respect

for beauty and grace and gentility, I'd...

- You'd what, Mr. Carmichael?

- I'd act a lot different than I'd been acting.

You've been very charming.

That's the trouble with being

a poet at heart.

You always have to be charming

at the wrong time.

You don't mind this loose talk I hope, ma'am?

There.

I guess you're buttoned now and forever.

It seems to have stopped raining.

I think we'd better go.

I had an idea we were never

going to leave here, but...

...I guess that's impractical.

I'm afraid it is.

How am I going to write to you

if I don't know where you live?

I write awfully well, something like

Shelley when I'm in the mood.

- I'll read you something he wrote.

- You haven't time, Mr. Carmichael.

This is my road, and that's yours,

to the boat...

...and the lamb chops in wine sauce.

Lamb kidneys, ma'am.

Only they don't seem so important now.

- Can't I see you home?

- You'll miss the boat.

Aren't I ever going to see you again?

I'd like to remember it just like this.

The rain, the fog...

...and a poet from Gramercy Park

with his bags of gold.

Let's leave it that way.

It's awfully hard to live poetry.

Goodbye, Mr. Carmichael.

Will you take this as a present, then,

and read it yourself?

And pretend I wrote it?

Thank you.

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

Hey!

You don't want a couple of jackasses

to remember me by?

No, thank you. Goodbye.

Kind of foggy, ain't it, Josephine?

Maybe that old boat won't sail after all.

Where have you been?

I've been worried about you.

I've been riding, Louis, in Gramercy Park.

What are you talking about?

There ain't no Gramercy Park around here.

I guess you're right.

Is something the matter? Did anything happen?

A lot happened.

- What?

- I got caught in the rain.

Got soaked.

Rode back a thousand miles and here I am.

That's all that matters, isn't it?

That's all that matters.

I guess I'd better change my things.

I beg your pardon, gentlemen.

Is this the way to the boat?

- Passenger?

- Yes.

There's no use

your going aboard tonight, sir.

That is, unless you want to.

We ain't sailin' till this fog lifts.

- How soon do you expect that?

- A day or two.

I'll be seein' you on deck, sir.

- That's mighty discouragin', stranger.

- Yes, it is.

- You hit it rich and homeward bound?

- Yes.

You don't figure on standin' here

until the fog lifts?

I don't know.

Reason tells that's the smartest

thing to do. To stand right here.

But I've been too reasonable all day.

Something I left up in the air

that I'd like to attend to.

- How about a nice home-cooked meal first?

- Lead on, sir.

Lucky you met up with me, I can

protect you from the perils of the city.

Yes.

Yes siree. They had me hemmed in,

so I pulled my gun...

...and I clipped one down there

and one man...

- Take it easy, you might hurt somebody.

- Don't be afraid, son, it ain't loaded.

It's not loaded?

No, I don't depend on firearms

for protection...

...it's my muscles that scares them away.

If you were to know things

I've done with my bare...

Here's a nice homey place for a stranger,

the Bella Donna.

Yes. I've heard of it.

Maybe you'd like me to help you carry

that gold. You're apt to strain yourself.

No. Thanks just the same.

It's a shame not to take advantage of

my strength, but have it your own way.

Some folks are suspicious for no reason.

I never saw more grand larceny

behind one pair of whiskers.

- You ain't foolin', son?

- No.

You know most folks

don't seem to realize how bad I am.

Let's sit here and I'll fetch a garsin.

What's a garsin?

That's what we call waiters in San Francisco.

"Garsin".

That's a kind of stylish nickname.

Garsin, come.

Quit yer hollerin'. What do you want?

Don't get fresh with me.

I'll shove you off the earth.

Start shovin'.

He's always foolin'.

Give us a minute

and get us a couple more drinks.

You'd better make it a bottle,

tootie-sweetie.

That's French. Let's wet the whistle.

I think I'll have...

Makes me look a little more ferocious.

If you can't make out what that says,

Number 3 is the best meal.

- What's she doing here?

- Who?

Her? Told you this was a nice homey

place. That's the lady known as Swan.

- Swan?

- Yep.

How long has she been here?

Brought her in myself,

right off the Flyin' Cloud.

Here's your bottle.

- She come alone?

- Yeah.

But Mr. Chamalis wanted her services

exclusive for the Bella Donna.

- Did she ever live on a ranch?

- Her? A ranch?

- The joke's on me.

- If you're lookin' for fun, there it is.

Win or lose, it's a pleasure

just to stand beside her at the table.

Can you see from here

whether she has snakes in her hair?

Son, go easy on that liquor.

Brought you another admirer, Swan.

All quiverin' to try his luck agin' ya.

10, black, even.

Old man, advise me.

Are those snakes in her hair

or forget-me-nots?

It's all right.

He's a little young and been drinkin'.

No, they're not snakes. They're diamonds.

She's got lovely cats' eyes.

What's the delay, Swan. Come on, spin her.

Make your plays, gentlemen.

Quiet. I want to hear the song of the Siren.

- That ain't no way to talk to a lady.

- I most humbly apologize.

I forgot she was raised under a bell jar

with a sprig of forget-me-nots in her hair.

21, red. Waiter.

I'll take that.

Let's drink together, ma'am.

To me, James Carmichael.

The dumbest jackass that ever came

hee-hawing into San Francisco.

- Put your money up or get out.

- Come on, put up your money.

Come on, spin that wheel. Let's get going.

All right, here goes.

- Gramercy Park versus the hallucination.

- You'd better get it weighed first, son.

We'll weigh it for the gentleman

when he wins.

On the black, the color of women's hearts.

Easy. You ain't gonna get no place

with them sentiments.

- A little less fancy talk, stranger.

- Sorry to give offense.

7 and red.

You lose this one time, son.

If at first you don't succeed, try again.

That's my motto since a child.

- Is that it?

- Yes, sir.

Knuckles.

Give him this.

Here you are, stranger. On the house.

Thank you. Hospitable of you.

Make your bets, gentlemen.

Had enough, you?

Not so fast there.

- You ain't bettin' it all at once, are you?

- On the black.

- Does it all go?

- Go on, roll your hoop.

Round and round the old willow tree.

Come on, old man of the sea.

Drink to the little ball.

27. And it's red.

- Who won?

- The red. Yes, sir, the red come up again.

Not my color.

You lost! Just like I did!

You lost like Sawbuck McTavish.

Cover up your back

or they'll shoot you like they did Sandy.

- Get out!

- I seen it.

To Madam Swan and to Galahad.

The pure in heart

and the expert dress cottoner.

One day, the black will win

and the harpies will weep.

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