The Asphalt Jungle Page #5

I don't anymore.

I had the market send over

some salt mackerel for you.

I know how you love it for breakfast.

Some sweet kid.

It's late.

Why don't you go to bed.

Some sweet kid.

Hello, Bob Brannom?

This is Emmerich.

No, no. I didn't call you to get the right time.

Listen, I've got a job for you.

No, no. Nothing like that.

I've got over $ 100,000

standing out on my books.

Come to my office tomorrow, I'll give you

a list of the people that owe me.

No, no, no.

Use the method called for

in each particular case...

...and don't tell me anything about it.

All I want is results.

Easy, boy.

Easy, boy. Easy.

Hello. Who?

Oh, sure, Gus.

He's still asleep.

What?

Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell him.

Honey. Honey, that was Gus.

He says you can come over.

He's got something for you.

Okay.

Coffee, honey? I made fresh.

Yeah, yeah.

Hey, you sure were dreaming.

How do you know?

You were talking in your sleep.

What was I saying?

It was all jumbled up,

but I heard one word real plain.

You called it out several times.

'Corn cracker.'

What's that mean?

Corn cracker.

Corn Cracker was a colt.

Yeah, it would be.

Yeah. He was a tall, black colt.

Yeah, I remember what I was dreaming.

I was up on that colt's back.

My father and my grandfather were there,

watching the fun.

That colt was buckjumping and pitching...

...and tried to scrape me off against

the fence, but I stayed with him.

Then I heard my granddaddy say, 'He's

a real Handley, that boy. A real Handley.'

And I felt proud as you please.

Did that really happen, Dix,

when you were a kid?

No. The black colt pitched me

into a fence on the first buck...

...and my old man come over,

prodded me with his boot, said:

'Maybe that'll teach you not to brag

about how good you are on a horse.'

It's nice to hear you laugh.

You know something?

One of my ancestors imported the first

Irish thoroughbred into our county.

Is that a fact?

- Sure.

Why, our farm was in the family

for generations.

One hundred sixty acres,

Fine barn and seven brood mares.

It sounds wonderful, Dix.

- It was.

And then everything happened at once.

My old man died,

and we lost our corn crop.

That black colt I was telling you about,

he broke his leg and had to be shot.

That was a rotten year.

I'll never forget the day we left.

Me and my brother swore we'd buy

Hickorywood Farm back someday.

Growing up in a place and then

having to leave must be awful.

I never had a proper home.

Twelve grand would have swung it,

and I almost made it once.

I had more than $5000 in my pocket...

...and Pampoon was running

in the Suburban.

I figured he couldn't lose.

I put it all on his nose.

He lost by a nose.

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