Miller's Crossing Page #3

He swipes his hat from Bluepoint.

. . . You think I'm some guinea fresh off the

boat and you think you can kick me. But I'm too

big for that now.

He puts his hands on the desk and leans towards Leo.

The cords stand out on his ndck.

I'm sick-of takin' the strap from you, Leo. I'm

sick a marchin' down to this goddamn office to

kiss your Irish ass and I'M SICK A THE HIGH HAT!

Caspar stops, out of breath. He is red faced and panting.

Bluepoint has put a gently restraining hand an his shoul-

der.

Leo and Tom stare at Caspar impasssively.

After a beat Caspar shuts his mouth. His eyes lose some of

their glaze. He looks at Bluepoint's hand, turns and

strides towards the door.

Caspar

. . . Youse f***in' fancy-pants, all of ya.

He opens the docr, but Leo's voice stops him.

Leo

(softly)

Johnny. You're exactly as big as I let you be

and no bigger and don't forget it. Ever.

Caspar looks at Lea from the open doorway. After a beat he

chuckles.

Caspar

Ats right, Leo, you're the big-shot around here.

He dances over at Tom again, then back to Leo:

. . . And I'm just some schnook likes to get

slapped around.

He leaves, Bluepoint following, shutting the door.

After a beat Tom crosses in front of the desk and sits down

in the chair Caspar has just vacated. Leo chuckles and

leans back in his chair.

Leo

Twist a pig's ear. Watch him squeal.

Tom swallows the last of his drink and stares ruminatively

down at his glass.

Tom

. . . Bad play, Leo.

Leo, unfazed, grins at Tom.

Leo

Got up on the wrong side, huh?

Tom

Same side as always.

Leo

That's what I mean. Still owe money to--who's

your bookie? Lazarre?

Tom

Mm.

Leo

I could put it right for you.

Tom

Thanxs Leo, I don't need it.

Leo

In a pig's eye. You haven't played a winner in

six weeks. People'll speak ill of me if I let

him break your legs.

Tom grins back, for the first time.

Tom

People'll say I had it coming.

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