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Dora Adventure Of Country


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Dora Adventure Of Country I like to hear you talk. So do I. Something about the sound of my own voice fascinates me. I’m glad you’re not sore about me taking you over the hurdles. I didn’t mean to cut up your business. I just got started and couldn’t stop. I see an angle, I start cutting myself a piece of throat. It’s an instinct. With me, being smart’s a disease. Know what I mean? Hey, Mildred! Hurry up! You know I don’t like to drink alone. Say something. This onesided conversation is beginning to bore me. Mildred. Mildred. Come on. Don’t play any games. I’m a nice guy up to a certain point, but don’t get me sore. Mildred. What’s the matter? What kind of business is this, anyway? Hit that house with the light. Stop, you! Okay, okay. What’s the hurry, pal? No gun. Better take a look in that house. This guy came through that window like he was shot out of a cannon. Get that from the window? I cut myself shaving. Get going, smart guy. You need some fixing. Oh, brother. I’m so smart, it’s a disease. All right, go ahead. What were you doing in there, pal? Picking up souvenirs? No, pal. Nothing petty. This is a pretty big night for you. Lots of excitement. There’s a stiff in there. Is that so? And I suppose you were running right to the station to report it? He says there’s a dead guy in the house. You never saw deader. Better call headquarters. Car calling KQVB. Car calling KQVB. Mother, where have you been? They won’t tell me anything. Who won’t tell you? Who’s “they”? These men. Mrs. Beragon? We’re from headquarters. The inspector would like you to have a little talk with him. Why? What’s the matter? I’m sorry. We only ask the questions. Besides, we don’t know what the trouble is. It’s probably just something about the car. At this time of night? Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it. Don’t think about it. Now, go to bed. Mother. Please, go on. Can’t you tell me what’s happened? We’d better go. What’s the matter? I didn’t want your daughter to hear. It’s your husband. He’s been murdered. Murdered? Hi, Joe, what’d you get? This is Mrs. Pierce. I mean, Beragon.


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