Klondike Page #3

Before Colleague can respond, Bill excuses himself, pardons

his way through the crowd to Epstein & the Concierge.

BILL (TO CONCIERGE, REASSURING)

(CONT’D)

It’s okay. He’s with me.

Concierge relents. Bill and Epstein step inside the party.

Epstein’s got a sh*t-eating grin. Bill, pleased as hell to

see him:

BILL (CONT’D)

See you wore your finest.

(re Epstein’s natty wool

suit)

Are there actually moths in there?

EPSTEIN:

This coming from a guy who looks

like a constipated penguin.

They embrace with a sincere pat on the back.

EPSTEIN (CONT’D)

Congratulations, brother.

They separate. Colleague has appeared.

BILL:

Richard. Meet Byron Epstein.

Colleague nods affably, but you can tell the man’s a bit

confused about Epstein’s low-brow presence here.

COLLEAGUE (TO BILL)

Come over. I want you to meet the

telephone guys.

7.

Bill meets eyes with Epstein. A knowing look there.

BILL:

Actually, we’ve got a train to

catch.

A waiter passes. Epstein procures two glasses of champagne.

As he hands one to Bill:

COLLEAGUE:

Where’re you headed?

EPSTEIN:

West.

COLLEAGUE:

West? Why west?

BILL (WRY)

Because that’s where every young

man goes...

COLLEAGUE:

Yeah, but what’s out there?

BILL (SUBTLE GLEE)

I don’t know.

EPSTEIN:

And that, my friend...

(swallows champagne)

...is exactly the point.

As Bill and Epstein clink glasses--CUT TO-

EXT. URBAN TRAIN STATION - DAY

--the duo moving quickly through the bustling downtown

station. Around them, the advanced urban sprawl of 1897

America. They reach the train just as it’s set to depart. As

they climb aboard, settle on the steps-

EPSTEIN:

Can still back out. You did, after

all, have more opportunity back in

that room than most human beings

will have in a lifetime.

BILL:

Wouldn't be on my terms.

EPSTEIN:

(invigorated)

All I know is you may be highfalutin

school-boy, and all that,

but soon as we hit on that train,

and we're about 2000 miles that

way, that diploma of yours won't be

anything more than a piece of

paper. Just be us, a couple of men

on the land.

(MORE)

8.

EPSTEIN (CONT'D)

And damn if it's not gonna be me

with the idea that makes us rich.

BILL:

We wanna bet on this?

EPSTEIN:

1000 bucks.

BILL:

You don't got 1000 bucks.

Epstein unfurls a cocky grin.

EPSTEIN:

Not yet I don’t.

(puts a hand out)

1000 bucks. I'm the guy the comes

up with the idea that makes us

rich.

Bill’s eyes, though, are on the COMMUTERS hurrying by in the

station with their suits and valises. Brow-furrowed, stressed-

out ants, all of them.

BILL:

What if I say it's not about

getting rich for me?

EPSTEIN:

Then I'd say you're full of sh*t.

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