Thieves' Highway
- NOT RATED
- Year:
- 1949
- 94 min
- 137 Views
The loud one's my old man.
You owe me a buck, 90.
Keep the change.
# Da-da-dah-da, da-da-dah-da #
# Da-da-da-da-da
da-da-da #
# Da-da-dah-da, da-da-dah-da #
# Da-da-da, da-da-da
dah, dah, dah ##
# La, la, la-la la, la
La, la, la-la-la-la, la, la #
Hey, Nico!
Hey, mitera. Is Nico.
Hiya, Pop.
- Nico, Nico! Oh, Nico.
- How's my girl?
Why you don't write?
Why you don't telephone you coming?
I get ready, I cook up dolmades.
Because I want to cook up surprise.
Where's Polly? I called
her from the station.
- Sh-She not here.
- Aw, she don't like you.
What are ya doin' home? I could hear him
singing three blocks down the street.
- Ha, ha, ha, ha!
- "Ha, ha, ha, ha!"
Look, presents for everybody.
- Presents?
- The big box is a lamp from India.
- Oh, India!
- China. Japan.
Africa.
Melanese Islands.
Ho-ho, you hear, mitera?
Man of the worid, Nico.
I bet he the best
mechanic on the ship.
Shoot a rod, they send for me.
Blow a valve, they send for me.
Yeah, they cry when you quit. Ho-ho-ho.
Look, Ma, earrings.
For you.
Dancing giris in Java
wear them.
No. No, Nick.
I-I am too old.
- You wear them. You're my dancing girl.
- Papa?
And look what I got for Polly's pop.
- Ho, ho, look just like him.
- Just about!
- Nicky! Nicky!
- Shh.
- Nicky? Oh, where is he?
Oh! No! Hey! No!
Oh, Nico!
- Bravo!
- Oh, Nick. Where did you get that awful thing?
- One of the Cannibal Islands.
- Polly.
- Dancing giris wear them in, uh Nico?
- Java, Ma.
- In Java.
- Oh, they're lovely.
And here's something for you.
Oh, isn't she pretty?
Oh, thank you, Nick.
I like it very much.
- I'll use it as a pin cushion.
- The finger.
Keep your eye on the finger.
Oh, Nicky!
Oh, it's beautiful.
Why, it must have cost a fortune!
- Hey, what do you think of that?
- Oh, that's wonderful!
1,800 smackers. More than enough
to go into business with your old man.
He's got an option on the vacant lot
next to the drive-in.
Hey, Jive-boy.
These I got for Pop.
All the way from China. Mandarin slippers.
I had a tough time...
trying to get a size
to fit your number 12's.
Here, try them on.
See how they fit.
What's the matter? Did I say something bad?
All I said was, try them on.
I can't try on, Nico.
Why not?
- Pop
- Cover me, Nico.
What happened?
- Tell me, what happened?
- Nico
I came in here like a clown.
I couldn't tell.
He plays the phonograph, he sings
Oh, what I'm gonna do?
I don't lose my head, just my legs.
What happened?
Tell me what happened.
I get a nice truckload tomatoes.
Earlianas, first of season.
Mike Figlia.
In San Francisco.
On consignment.
I go back for money.
He say, he sell good,
for good price.
"Come on. We have party,"
he say. "I buy you drinks."
I go for drink.
I say,
"Now you pay me money."
Mike Figlia say,
"Sure, I'm gonna pay.
Two fellas from market,
they say, "Come on, pop."
So, we drinks lots of wine.
I laugh, I feel good.
I have good time.
I think how happy
Mama gonna be when I come home...
throw money like leaves
all over the floor.
Don't remember no more.
All I know is,
here it hurt. It hurt.
For long time, he don't believe his legs gone.
He think new legs will grow.
Don't you know
how it happened?
They find truck
turned over in ditch.
Yeah, they find me,
but they don't find money.
I think Mike Figlia,
he don't pay.
I telephone Mr. Figlia in San Francisco,
he say he pay.
- He no pay.
- My father saw a lawyer.
- He say, forget all about.
- I never forget.
- The lawyer got in touch with Figlia.
- Two witnesses say he pay.
I say, he no pay!
All right, Ma.
Leave him alone.
Polly, I'll see you tonight
after you get home from work.
Sure, Nicky.
So long.
Pop, those two witnesses...
- did they work for Mike Figlia?
- Yeah.
They big crook, too.
They big liars.
- He's right, Mom. He never got paid.
- Uh-huh. Yeah.
They just got him drunk,
put him in his truck and sent him home.
On the way,
he probably fell asleep at the wheel.
Where's the truck?
Insurance company fix.
I got no legs. I don't need it.
I sell it to trucker
named Ed Kinney.
Ed Kinney, he don't pay no money.
Just take the truck and give promise.
Ah, you're doing good all around, ain't you, Pop?
- Where's this guy live?
- Why, Nico?
I'm gonna get that truck, go up to San Francisco
and gouge your money...
- out of Mike Figlia's carcass.
- Is no use, Nico.
I wanna see Figlia, Mom.
Where's the truck?
Uh, maybe Mom is right, Nico.
Maybe Figlia pay.
Maybe somebody steal money from truck
after I have accident.
Where does Kinney live?
1600 block, Elm Street.
But you leave
Ed Kinney alone.
He know more about crop
than anybody in state.
He pay me.
You're a pushover, Pop.
Hey, Get-Rich-Quick, somebody to see ya.
- Tell him I'm busy.
- He says he can't see ya.
- Tell him I can see him.
- Better come out, honey.
Looks like the man's gonna stay.
- Yeah?
- My name's Nick Garcos.
You haven't kept up the payments,
so I'm takin' the truck back.
- You don't have to do that. I'll pay.
- When?
Day after tomorrow,
all the money I owe in one lump.
And a box of cigars
for your old man.
My old man falls for that stuff, but not me.
Where are the keys?
Tell him I need the truck.
I got a big haul coming up.
- Can I have the keys?
- I bought this truck from your old man.
I'll talk to him.
- I'll square everything with him.
- You'll talk to me.
- Where are the keys?
- Look, kid. This bargain your old man sold me...
I been keepin' it together with spit.
The universal's shot,
the rear end sounds like she's comin' apart.
I'd be glad to give it back to him, but I need it.
For one more haul. Just one.
If your old man's worried about his money,
tell him Ed Kinney's got the first load
If you got money to buy apples,
why don't you pay for the truck?
I haven't got a dime,
but this crop is so hot...
two guys are buyin' me a load,
just to find out where it is.
You talk just like
my old man used to.
Always blowing off
a lot of smoke.
Come on.
Let's have the keys.
You'll have to kick my face in
to get 'em, brother.
I know when I've got a good thing.
I've been hauling a long time. And this is it.
I found this orchard
where they come ripe early.
A south slope that catches the sun.
Golden Delicious apples.
It's like money in the bank. Ask your old man
if any produce dealer in the country...
wouldn't give
his eyeteeth to get 'em.
Would they, um
Would they go for them
in San Francisco?
They eat apples in Frisco.
They ain't snobs. They'd grab 'em up like that.
- You think Mike Figlia might be interested?
- That chiseler.
He'd be so crazy to get 'em,
he might even make a straight deal
It's too bad
your old man is laid up.
He'd go in with me
if he had 1,200 bucks.
Then I wouldn't have to
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"Thieves' Highway" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/thieves'_highway_21753>.
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