The FBI Story Page #7

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was Pretty Boy Floyd.

One of the man killed

was Special Agent Raymond Caffery.

By federal law, he was not authorized

to carry firearms.

The killings continued.

The FBI was still unarmed.

Gangsters like Baby Face Nelson

knew the bureau could not retaliate...

...and they made the most of it.

Civic groups appealed

to Washington for help.

J. Edgar Hoover asked for authority

to arm FBI men.

Newspapers supported the move...

...but it wasn't easy to get action.

It's very simple, dear.

Fix the one that doesn't work,

then all the others light up.

I know.

Except the one that doesn't work

is always around back here.

It's never out front. Never out front.

It's always around back here.

There.

There it is.

There.

Pretty good.

Pretty good. Good, good.

- Lucy!

- Yes?

I had some tissue paper.

I put it right up here a couple days ago.

- Oh, it's not there.

- Well, I know it's not there.

That's the reason I brought the subject up.

I bought tissue paper, put it on the shelf.

Jennie took it.

Oh, she did?

Well... Jennie!

She can give it back.

That's my tissue paper.

She can give it right back, right now.

That's my tissue paper.

- Hello, Daddy.

- How do you do?

Well, hey... Hey, come...

I'm going out and play now.

- What's that?

- She's an angel in the Christmas play.

We didn't have wings,

so we used the tissue paper.

- Did you use all of it?

- Well, practically.

We couldn't send her out

with only one wing.

Used up all my tissue paper.

I don't know, I don't think

it's a very good example...

How do you think the audience would

feel if I'd get up and say:

"See that little angel right on the right

there? She steals tissue paper."

Doesn't seem very impressive to me.

Hi, Dad.

Hold it.

Hold it just a second.

What are you doing in that getup?

I'll bet you stole a pair of my socks.

He's playing Joseph.

And nobody needs your old socks.

Joseph wore sandals.

Now, go play with your sister.

I'm surprised you didn't take

a pair of my shoes and cut them down.

Oh, Chip.

Well, here,

you might as well open this now.

It's your Christmas present.

That's the reason

I wanted the tissue paper.

So I could wrap up the present

and put bows on it.

That's what tissue paper's for.

Oh, now, Chip.

- Is tissue paper really that important?

- Not in this house.

Just wrap it up in any old thing.

Any old comic strip.

Would you like it if I wrapped it

in the "Katzenjammer Kids"...

...and said "Merry Christmas"?

- Well, let me ask you.

If I wrapped yours in "Major Hoople,"

would you care?

- Or would you like it anyway?

- That's an entirely different thing.

Oh, it is not.

Anything you've ever given me...

...I've never cared how it was wrapped.

As long as you give it to me.

- How many angels are there?

- Two.

But Jennie was the first one chosen.

- The doorbell's ringing, dear.

- Well, go ahead and answer it.

You answer it.

Merry Christmas.

George, how are you?

Here, I'll take your coat.

Thank you. Merry Christmas, Lucy.

- Merry Christmas, Sam.

- Some presents, Mrs. Hardesty.

Thank you, George.

- Where's Mike?

- Oh, he's out on the back porch.

Hold it.

Always bring my own mistletoe.

- I'll get the eggnog.

- Good.

House looks nice, Lucy.

Woman's touch.

Why didn't you ever remarry, Sam?

I don't know.

Maybe... Maybe the first time

was too good.

- Yes.

- Here we are.

Three loving cups.

Holy smoke, I almost forgot.

Look here, Chip. Look.

- It's out of committee.

- What is?

Hey, the Wayburne Bill.

That means it'll come up for a vote.

We're gonna get authority

to carry firearms.

Hey, this is a real Christmas present.

I don't think it is.

That means you'll go looking

for a hoodlum with a gun in your pocket.

You bet your life.

And he'll know it too.

That's right.

That leaves him only one alternative.

He'll have to kill you.

Oh, now, take it easy, honey.

You take it easy, Chip.

I don't look good in black.

Let me repeat again:

Get to know this weapon.

Craftiness can solve

many a criminal case...

...but with hoodlums...

...you sometimes need a good,

conscientious, hardworking machine gun.

Crandall.

Bolt back, safety on.

Insert the clip.

Commence firing.

On the night of April 22nd...

...special agents of the FBI

converged on Spider Lake, Wisconsin.

A group of hoodlums was holed up

in a nearby resort hotel.

But barking dogs alerted them,

and some of them escaped.

Sam and I rode down to a country store

to call the Chicago office.

We were worried because the fugitives

were armed and dangerous.

One of them was Baby Face Nelson.

No mind them potato bugs.

They're just trying to get comfortable.

Oh, excuse me.

Schneider's Resort and Grocery Store.

You don't say.

Well, beat a rug.

Yeah?

Yeah.

It's the missus. She says things are popping

up at the roadhouse.

Guns shooting, dogs barking.

It's hell on a Ferris wheel.

Whose car is that out front?

Are you one of them fellas

that was doing the shooting?

Oh, now, that's a silly question, Cliff.

- Whose car?

- Mine.

You can have the keys.

We'll all go. I need protection.

Come on.

You too, Uncle Fudd.

In the car.

We'd better put in a call to the office,

don't you think?

We're FBI. Who are you?

All right, come on, get out of the car.

You all right, Chip?

He just creased me.

I'm all right.

That's good.

Because I don't think I am.

Get a doctor.

- Here, help me carry him inside.

- No.

No, no, please.

I'd rather stay out here.

What's...? What's that, lilacs?

No.

No, it couldn't be.

It'd be two weeks early.

Guess l... Guess I always wanna

rush the lilacs.

Now, just take it easy, Sam.

Now, try and lie quiet.

You know...?

You know something silly, Chip?

- I think that fella's killed me.

- No, no, no. No, please.

- And it... It's a shame.

- Please.

It's a shame for young George.

First his mother and then this.

He's... He's gonna...

Gonna figure

it's kind of rude of us, Chip.

No. No, he won't, Sam.

He won't.

Tell him...

Tell him I love him...

...and that I didn't count on

being this rude.

Sam.

"The days of our years

are threescore years and 10.

And if by reason of strength

they be fourscore years...

...yet is there strength,

labor and sorrow.

So teach us to number our days...

...that we may apply our hearts

from the wisdom."

I can say very little

about the deceased.

I barely knew him.

He attended church

and was a good father...

...and he died, I'm told,

because he opposed evil.

Those are the skimpy facts of his life.

However, I imagine they are sufficient

to recommend him to our Lord.

On the way here,

I heard a woman mention...

...that it was not a very nice day

for a funeral.

That is not so.

I would remind you that any day

a good man goes to God...

...is a very nice day for a funeral.

Edith.

Edith, you've been

a wonderful sister to Sam.

But is there any way

we could help you with George?

I mean, we could keep him

over at our house for a while.

No, it'll be all right.

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