Mr. Smith Goes To Washington Page #37

She grabs Diz by the hand and pulls him to the door, while

Jeff stares blankly at the bill on the desk.

In the CORRIDOR, DIZ and SAUNDERS come through. She stops,

looking ahead dazedly.

DIZ:

Well--let's dig up the preacher,

kid.

SAUNDERS:

(in a suddenly sobered

trance)

Huh?

DIZ:

You know, we're getting married.

SAUNDERS:

(suddenly cracking

up, sobbing)

Take me home, Diz.

The scene dissolves to PAINE'S LIVING ROOM at night. Jeff is

on his feet, in the midst of a dramatic delivery. Paine is

trying to sit calmly and judicially. McGann, tipped back in

a chair, is whittling his nails, trying to seem disinterested.

JEFFERSON:

(emphatically)

--I may not know much about a lot of

things, sir--but I know that Willet

Creek country like a book--and--and

I tell you, Senator Paine--there's

something *wrong* about this dam--

why, there isn't a foot of water in

that creek--it's dry four months out

of the--

PAINE:

Jeff--listen--this was all taken up

in the State Legislature and approved--

they're going to divert waters from

up above--

JEFFERSON:

But--there are a hundred other places

in the state that *need* the water.

Besides--I talked to Kenneth Allen,

who owns some of that land--and he

didn't say anything about a dam. No--

I'm sure, sir--there's something

wrong--and I--I won't vote on this

thing until I get a lot of questions

answered--

PAINE:

(strongly)

Jeff! You're trying to understand in

a moment everything about a project

that took two years to set up--the

reasons--the benefits--

JEFFERSON:

Yes--the *benefits*! What's a man

called Taylor got to do with this?

McGann's tipped-back chair comes forward with a thud and he

gets up.

JEFFERSON:

He's a newspaper publisher I know--

and--

MCGANN:

What makes you think he's got

*anything* to do with it?

JEFFERSON:

Saunders said--this whole thing was

*his* idea to get graft--!

PAINE:

(forcefully)

One minute, Jeff!

McGann starts quickly in the direction of the foyer.

PAINE:

You're accusing *me* of helping to

frame a bill for the benefit of *one*

individual--

McGann enters a TELEPHONE CLOSET in the foyer and picks up

the phone.

PAINE'S VOICE

--of helping to put through a scheme

for *graft*!

McGann kicks the door closed.

MCGANN:

(grimly--into the

phone)

Long distance. Get me James Taylor--

Jackson City--Main 3100--

The scene dissolves to the GOVERNOR'S LIBRARY at night. Hubert

is in his dressing gown and nightshirt--fearful. Taylor paces

furiously. Kenneth Allen, middle-aged, sits by quietly.

TAYLOR:

Boy Ranger! The answer to a prayer.

Manna from heaven! Didn't know the

time of day--!

HUBERT:

Will you please tell me *exactly*

what he's done?

TAYLOR:

Yes! He's about to blow the whole

machine to smithereens--and *you

with it*, Mr. Governor!

HUBERT:

Me! Jim--how--?

TAYLOR:

You couldn't understand! Listen, Ten

Thumbs, I'll be on my way to

Washington in half an hour. Whatever

happens, I'm all ready for this Ranger

of yours. Never mind how. You'll get

your instructions from Ken Allen

here. It isn't anything you have to

do. I wouldn't trust you to lick a

stamp. Allen'll do it himself. You

just use your *high office* to help

him get it done. Understand?

HUBERT:

Y-yes, Jim.

TAYLOR:

I doubt it! Come on, Ken.

Taylor starts for the door--Allen following.

HUBERT:

Jim--wait--will you please tell me--

?

Taylor and Allen have slammed out.

HUBERT:

(protesting frantically--

to himself)

Blow *me* to smithereens! My record

is *clean*!

The scene dissolves to TAYLOR'S HOTEL SUITE in Washington,

with Taylor seen at his breakfast--calm, quiet. Around him

are Paine, McGann and three men--Congressmen Radner, Schultz

and Diggs.

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