The bar bends like a licorice
stick under his tremendous strength. Just at this moment the
PRISON GUARD rushes in, dragging a hose behind him.]
GUARD--[Angrily.] I'll loin youse bums to wake me up! [Sees YANK.]
Hello, it's you, huh? Got the D.T.s, hey? Well, I'll cure 'em.
I'll drown your snakes for yuh! [Noticing the bar.] Hell, look at
dat bar bended! On'y a bug is strong enough for dat!
YANK--[Glaring at him.] Or a hairy ape, yuh big yellow bum! Look
out! Here I come! [He grabs another bar.]
GUARD--[Scared now--yelling off left.] Toin de hoose on, Ben!--
full pressure! And call de others--and a strait jacket! [The
curtain is falling. As it hides YANK from view, there is a
splattering smash as the stream of water hits the steel of YANK's
cell.]
[Curtain]
SCENE VII
SCENE--Nearly a month later. An I. W. W. local near the
waterfront, showing the interior of a front room on the ground
floor, and the street outside. Moonlight on the narrow street,
buildings massed in black shadow. The interior of the room, which
is general assembly room, office, and reading room, resembles some
dingy settlement boys club. A desk and high stool are in one
corner. A table with papers, stacks of pamphlets, chairs about it,
is at center. The whole is decidedly cheap, banal, commonplace and
unmysterious as a room could well be.
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