GOLDIE:  Say, I’d rather be home with the headache, than at the Movies with a guy like you. (Crosses L.) (INSPECTOR enters door R. going behind desk.)

INSPECTOR:  Well, have you got anything to say to me before I lock you up for the night?

EEL:  Nothin’, except that it’s a frame-up, and we defy you to go through with it.

INSPECTOR:  Take ’em down.

DUGAN:  (Above door L.) Come on. (EEL starts for door L.)

GOLDIE:  Good-night, Inspector.

INSPECTOR:  Good-night.

EEL:  (Turning at door L.) Same from me, Inspector.

INSPECTOR:  Good-night, Bradley. (DUGAN shoves the EEL roughly off. 
GOLDIE circles around and switches in front of DUGAN.) By the way,
Goldie, what’s the number of your flat on East Broadway?

GOLDIE:  (Hesitatingly at door L.) 327, Inspector.

INSPECTOR:  Thanks.

GOLDIE:  (Impudently.) You’re welcome. (Exit door L. followed by
DUGAN.) (O’MARA locks door after them.)

INSPECTOR:  (Calling O’MARA.) O’Mara!

O’MARA:  (At door L.) Yes, sir.

INSPECTOR:  I want a wire installed at 327 East Broadway.

O’MARA:  (In front of desk.) Goldie’s flat?

INSPECTOR:  Yes.  I’m leaving it to you to see that the orders are carried out to the letter.

O’MARA:  Yes, sir, to-morrow.

INSPECTOR:  To-night, at once.  I’m going to turn them loose.  You understand?

O’MARA:  (Looks puzzled, then face brightens.) I understand.

DARK CHANGE

SCENE II

STREET SCENE, IN EAST BROADWAY

Showing flat house with stoop.  Time:  The same evening.  A small boy enters L. with bottle of milk, goes up steps door C., rings bell, clicker sounds, and he exits door C. MAGGIE enters door C. She is an East side janitress.  She has a tin pail on her arm around which is wrapped newspaper.  She walks off L. PERKINS and BROOKY are heard off R.)

PERKINS:  (Entering R. briskly.) Come on, Brooky, don’t be so slow.

BROOKY:  (Straggling in after PERKINS.) I say, old chap, this sort of work is most laborious.  This flitting from one tram to another, and being jostled and ordered to “step lively” by vulgar guards, and running, yes actually running.  It’s not only bad taste, old man, but positively undignified. (Dusting shoes with handkerchief, L., PERKINS is up in vestibule of door C.)

PERKINS:  If you want to supply your paper with live news, you’ve got to keep hustling.

BROOKY:  Very true, but it seems such a waste of energy.

PERKINS:  (Coming down to BROOKY.) No energy is wasted that is productive of flaring headlines.  Now take that note pad I gave you, and get your pencil busy with a description of this neighborhood.  (Goes R. making notes.)