Hellfighters Page #2

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They're using brass tools

to avoid creating a spark.

Even the static electricity of a man

running his hand through his hair...

could set if off again.

Ah, what a great sound!

That's it!

Now we can get a statement

from Chance Buckman himself!

Hey!

- [Clang]

- [Gasps]

Back off!

- Ambulance!

- Ambulance!

Come on!

[Larkin]

Stay back!

[Groaning]

Mr. Parker,

do you think it's serious?

[Siren Blaring]

No, we're still

sweating him out, Cal.

Sure. Sure, Cal.

The minute I know anything.

Thanks.

Joe, how is he?

He's still in surgery,

Jack.

He took

a real bad beating.

Aw, he's had busted

ribs before.

This time

his lung's punctured.

It's bad enough that Greg got the number

from Irene and called San Francisco.

Madelyn and Tish?

How in the hell

did he hear about them?

- Did you open your...

- One night last year down in Mexi...

Chance got stoned to the eyes, and Greg

spotted a photograph in his wallet.

Greg asked Chance

who it is,

Chance tells him it's

his wife and daughter,

and if Greg ever mentions it again,

he's gonna break him in two, that's how.

They're not

coming here?

Well, Madelyn's in Europe, and

the girl's skiing in Jackson, Wyoming.

Greg flew up to get her.

- You couldn't stop him, eh?

- No. I agreed with him.

Suppose Chance...

Suppose...

Suppose it doesn't look like

he's gonna make it?

At least he might have time enough

to see his child.

- Miss Buckman?

- Yes.

I'm Greg Parker.

I phoned you.

Thank you.

I'm a little uncertain

about this.

Funny time to be uncertain,

isn't it?

I mean, I'm not sure

I should come at all.

That's funnier yet.

Just a minute.

You said he didn't ask for me.

This was your idea.

What difference does that make?

He's your father, and he might die.

Would you get aboard,

please?

You, uh...

you okay?

I don't know.

Frankly, I don't know

how I'm supposed to feel.

I'm sorry he's hurt.

I want him to get better.

But l...

I hardly remember my father.

Your mother never took the time

to fill you in on him?

All she ever told me was that

he was in the oil business,

and that he was

a wonderful man...

and that she was

the wrong woman for him.

When I was old enough to realize

how unhappy it made her,

I stopped asking questions.

Well, she couldn't exactly

rap him for all the dough

he must've been sending her.

She never took a penny

from him, that I know.

Her name was Randolph, of Randolph

Department Stores in San Francisco.

Oh, yeah, Randolph.

Well, that, uh...

That made it easy for her

to walk out on him, didn't it?

You're struggling to be

some sort of boor.

- No, I just know

it wasn't Chance's fault.

- Were you there?

No, no, but I got

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