The Rocketeer Page #4

- What?

Put it in neutral!

You steer, I'll push.

Get in the car.

[ Reporter ] How 'bout

some background on the flyin' man?

- Yeah, give it to us.

- What's his name?

Sorry, boys. It's a trade secret...

all part of the mystery.

- Why don't you call him Rocket Boy?

- That's lousy!

- What about Rocket Man?

- That's worse.

- What about Missile Man?

- That stinks.

Come on, Bigelow,

give us a better name.

How about Rocketeer?

- Bingo!

- That'll work. Rocketeer it is.

Extra, extra!

Man flies without plane!

Extra!

Read all about it!

[ Girls ] - It's so romantic.

- Bet he's handsome.

I wish he'd rescue me.

Extra, extra!

Ready on the set.

Let's go. Let's shoot.

[ Hughes ]

Congratulations, gentlemen.

Thanks to the diligence

of the FBI,

this vacuum cleaner

will not fall into the wrong hands.

Mr. Bigelow, FBI.

We'd like a word with you.

- Must be the maid's day off.

- Somebody's been lookin' for something.

Give me some light.

[ Gasp ]

Mother of mercy!

He's been folded in half.

Looks like he was

writin' something.

Palm Terrace.

[ Peevy ] If the vertical thrust

is 1-28 inches per second --

- [ Squeaking ]

- Cliff?

- [ Glass breaking ]

- [ Peevy ] What do you want?

- What are you doin' here? Get out of here.

- Peevy!

Cliff, get me out!

Peevy!

Aaah!

Slats, Murphy,

come with us.

Murph, wait here

for the high sign.

Where is it?

Where's what?

The rocket!

Sure you got

the right house?

Secord, Peabody!

Open up! FBI.

Get down!

Let 'em have it, boys.

Cliff? Cliff!

Cliff?

- Clifford!

- Peevy!

- Hello, Neville.

- Hello, Clark.

[ W.C. Fields ] Neville...

you old scalawag!

Hello, Bill.

How are you?

Fallen off any

chandeliers lately?

Let me introduce you.

Miss Jenny Blake,

- Mr. W. C. Fields.

- Charmed, my dear,

doubly-charmed.

- Jenny... what a euphonious appellation.

- Jenny...

Excuse me for a moment.

I won't be long. Bill, look after her.

I thought you'd

never ask. Scram.

My little kumquat,

I'm fully prepared...

to listen to

your life story.

Okay, I'll tell him.

Spanish Johnny... he's checking

on the diner where the flyers hang out.

All right, Stevie.

Make me a Bromo, will you?

What do you want?

Everything okay?

We treatin' you good?

Get to the point.

I'm busy.

- Have you found the rocket?

- Busy, huh?

My guys are tearing up the

town looking for that rocket...

and you're busy...

romancin' some dame.

That dame... happens to be

Secord's girlfriend.

Good. She'll tell us

where Secord is.

My boys'll get the truth

out of her in two minutes.

Valentine... we're gonna do

what I think is necessary.

And that includes breakin'

one of my men in half?

Next time you go after one of my men,

I'll kill you.

Don't threaten me.

Just do your job.

Hey, Sinclair,

if the feds get me...

I'm takin' you with me.

I'm gonna tell 'em everything.

Who do you think

they'd believe?

A cheap crook or the number 3

box-office star in America?

Number 3 jerk!

[ Radio Announcer ] The helmeted mystery

man disappeared into the hills...

moments after the rescue

and has not identified himself.

But air circus owner, Otis Bigelow,

promises his bird man will return.

Los Angeles is buzzing.

Who is the Rocketeer?

Now, back to our program

of dance band favorites.

Okay. Here's the plan.

We call the FBI...

get rid of this thing.

The FBI's gonna lock us up.

They think we were shooting at them. What

do you think was going on at the house?

House? We don't got a house.

We got a gazebo.

Between the FBI and

that King Kong gentleman,

we're gonna get ourselves

killed over this thing.

[ Knocking ]

Peevy?

Open up.

We just come from the airfield.

It's Bigelow.

- What about him?

- His office is crawling with cops.

Somebody tore up his place

like they were looking for something.

- Yeah, so?

- They killed him.

[ Millie ] Cliff, what's going on?

I'll make the call.

[ Telephone ] FBI, Los Angeles.

Agent Morris speaking.

Hello?

- I'll be home soon, honey.

- Who is this?

- I love you too.

- Okay, wise guy.

What can I do for you gents?

Madam, we're looking for a pilot

by the name of Cliff Secord.

Does anybody here know him?

Haven't seen him around.

We need a flier

for a real special job.

There's a lot of lettuce

in this.

What do you say...

we lay out a finder's fee?

How 'bout it, dad?

Secord!

Oh, yeah, I know him.

Short fella, gimpy leg.

Didn't he move

to Cincinnati?

Cincinnati.

How 'bout you, bub?

You know this Secord?

If you boys aren't ordering,

I'm gonna ask you to leave.

We'll order! Let's see.

How 'bout those pies?

They look good, huh, boys?

Mmm! Betcha

they're home-made.

Don't interrupt his meal.

Yeah, I like coffee with my pie.

You know, it's funny.

I don't like music

while I'm digesting.

Listen, friend,

we don't know where he is.

Okay, pop, maybe we

can refresh your memory.

Come on. Follow me.

Take a good look...

'cause you're next.

- Talk, dad, or get a facial.

- Drop dead, you weasel.

- I don't know where the hell he is.

- Yeah?

[ Millie ]

Leave him alone!

- Naughty boy.

- [ Groaning ]

Please leave him alone.

Stop!

[ Rusty ]

Startin' to smoke, old timer.

[ Spanish Johnny ]

Hold it.

Jenny.

Lookie here, boys.

Lady Luck...

left her phone number.

[ Dialling ]

- [ Phone Ringing ]

- Mine!

- Hello?

- Hello.

This is the florist.

I've got a lovely bouquet

of flowers for Jenny.

Who sent her flowers?

Cliff Secord.

- Oh, is that right?

- That's right.

Well, he's too late.

She's gone to the South Seas

Club with Mr. Neville Sinclair.

Hello?

Come here.

You're not gonna believe this.

Guess where the dish went.

Where?

With the limey to

the South Seas Club.

[ Rusty ] Do you think fancy-pants

is pullin' a fast one on Eddie?

I don't know,

but I don't like this.

Jeff, you and Mikey stay and

watch who walks into this joint.

- Boys, been a pleasure.

- I'll call from the club.

[ Jeff ] All right, Johnny.

We'll take care of it.

Everybody,

relax and take it easy.

We're gonna be here a while.

Mom, how 'bout

a fresh pot of coffee?

Swell outfit, dad.

Hey!

Here's Mr. Ketchup Bottle!

Hey, that's quite

a dish you got there.

Wait a minute.

That's Lady Luck!

[ Cliff ]

Get the gun!

[ Peevy ]

I got it.

I'm sorry about all this.

I'll fix everything.

[ Peevy ] Clifford,

what's the deal? Are you nuts?

Cliff, no!

Not again.

Peevy, half the city

is looking for us.

- I can fly to that nightclub in five minutes.

- Take a cab.

The only place this is going is back

to the feds. We had an agreement!

Look! Peev, I'm sorry.

I should've listened to you,

but Jenny's in trouble.

That girl means more

to me than --

I love her, Peev.

- Does she know that?

- She's gonna find out.

Promise me when she's safe

this thing goes back!

You got my word.

I'm sorry I laid eyes on this.

You might want this.

I'll meet you back here.

Hold it, you're leaking

like a sieve.

If you'd hit that button,

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