Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Still going fishing, Hank?
- Here's some cigarettes, huh? - Thanks, Cotton.
You're my pal. I'm taking you with me. Come on.
- You won't get away with it, Cody. - Cody, huh?
Evans speaking. Hello, warden.
Not when he finds out what you did to his ma.
Somebody's ribbing you, Russ.
Dry as a bone.
You meant what you said about sending a doc?
It was Big Ed. He told me to do it. You wouldn't kill me in cold blood, would you?
- I'm partial to blonds. - Well, who isn't?
... on the night of October 12th.
Holden, John.
boobs
Oh, thanks.
Not a buck from the tunnel job showed up.
I don't mind fixing it, Cody. Keep me busy. I, uh, can't sleep anyhow.
Here, Ma.
... particularly the condition of his face. Tell him, doc.
Cody like it?
... and grab yourself a couple of tons of gold.
- That's the one. - I remember, Cody.
Why?
You see, Cody? I was right.
- What picture? - Task Force.
Uh, no, no. She, uh, died before I even knew her.
All right, just do it. Stop the gabbing.
The same as you did before he married you.
Tonight I hand in my resignation.
Sorry to bust in. We're finished. Thought you might wanna check.
Break it up over there.
FALLON: Don't go for your guns.
Turn back. Jarrett's busted out.
Makes you the only one, Mr. Evans, doesn't it?
Don't shoot!
"Have no fingerprint record, dead man. "
Now, there'll be a marker on the rear bumper.
Talk plain, son.
When you get out of here, he knows his life isn't worth a plugged nickel.
Go ahead. Get on back there.
I know how you feel, Vic, but don't ask me to do anything that'll break my heart.
How's fishing?
... in the state penitentiary.
Het? Cotton?
- No. No, not yet, son. - Hmm?
But if that fails, you just have to serve the rest of your term.
Okay, I got it.
- He'll know we've been in his mail. - All right, so he'll know.
- Got that? - Okay.
- Ask about Cody's mother. - How is Cody's mother?
Four hundred and twenty-six thousand dollars will be placed in their safe...
Okay. Keep your medal.
I heard you're on the straight and narrow, driving a truck.
Scared, sonny?
Might be a cracked radiator. We'd better stop somewhere.
Dead, he gets out sooner.
Don't let them see you like that. Might give some of them ideas.
Cody will be real grateful to you.
And it'll be his last.
Maybe a kick in his skull would do him some good.
I'll be picked up in a joint known as Tom's Hideaway.
FALLON: Busy little place, isn't it?
- I'll take care of them when I get out. - That's what I told myself.
What are you all gaping at?
Imperial and Figueroa.
Good.
- He jumped me, Cody. - Get back on the job.
That's what I'm getting at.
Jarrett does a stretch in the penitentiary.
- You're not gonna tackle him alone. - I'll just keep an eye on him. Hurry.
We can't take any chance of being picked up with you in the car.
It's just a feeling I had, Cody. I could have been wrong.
My wife's coming tomorrow.
- Reader, cover the outside door. - We'll not make it this way.
They checked him in today?
- I split even with Ma, didn't I? - I see.
On the ground heading for the Horton Sphere area.
- You bought a gas truck? HET: Yeah.
Come on, Verna.
GUARD 1: Come on. Back to your places.
What's the matter? Forget how to steal one?
Know why they call him that?
Car B, Alameda and Artesia, bearing 256 degrees.
Boys in L. A. had a coming-out party planned for you a month ago.
Wait here.
Go get Vic. Hurry up.
Born Detroit, March 23rd, 1919.
- Yeah. - Now go on out. Show them you're all right.
They got you tied up good.
For the next two weeks, I'm not gonna think about anything...
Go ahead. Get on back there. Go.
Huh?
Made it, Ma! Top of the world!