by Robert Riskin

                             based on a story by
                      Richard Connell and Robert Presnell

                                                 Shooting Draft, 1941

               Property of
               Warner Brothers

               FADE IN:


               CLOSE-UP: Of a time-worn plaque against the side of a 
               building. It reads:

                                     THE BULLETIN
                         "A free press for a free people."

               While we read this, a pair of hands come in holding 
               pneumatic chisel which immediately attacks the sign. As 
               the lettering is being obliterated,

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               CLOSE-UP: A new plaque on which the lettering has been 
               changed to: THE NEW BULLETIN "A streamlined newspaper for 
               a streamlined era."

                                                                 CUT TO:


               MED. SHOT: At a door at which a sign-painter works. He is 
               painting HENRY CONNELL's name on the door. It opens and a 
               flip office boy emerges. The painter has to wait until the 
               door closes in order to resume his work.

               FULL SHOT: Of the outer office. The activity of the office 
               seems to suddenly cease, as all eyes are centered on the 
               office boy.

               MED. SHOT—PANNING: With the office boy—who has a small 
               sheet of paper in his hand. He walks jauntily to a desk, 
               refers to his paper, points his finger to a woman, emits a 
               short whistle through his teeth, runs a finger across his 
               throat and jerks his thumb toward managing editor's office. 
               The woman stares starkly at him while her immediate 
               neighbors look on with sympathy. The office boy now goes 
               through the same procedure with several other people. All 
               watch him, terror written in their eyes.

               MED. SHOT: Toward CONNELL's office door where painter works. 
               It opens and three people emerge. Two men and a girl. The 
               girl is young and pretty. All three look dourful. The 
               painter again has to wait for the door to shut before 
               resuming his work. The two men exit. The girl suddenly 

               CLOSE SHOT: Of the girl. Her name is ANN MITCHELL. She 
               stands, thinking, and then suddenly, impulsively, wheels 
               around. CAMERA PANS with her as she returns to CONNELL's 
               office door, flings it open and disappears. The painter 
               remains poised with his brush, waiting for the door to 
               swing back. There is a slight flash of resentment in his 

               INT. CONNELL'S OFFICE

               FULL SHOT: CONNELL is behind his desk on which is a tray 
               of sandwiches and a glass of milk, half gone. Near him 
               sits POP DWYER, another veteran newspaperman. ANN crosses 
               to CONNELL's desk.

                              (on phone)
                         Yeh, D. B. Oh, just cleaning out 
                         the dead-wood. Okay.

                         Look, Mr. Connell . . . I just 
                         can't afford to be without work 
                         right now, not even for a day. 
                         I've got a mother and two kid 
                         sisters to . . .

               Secretary enters. (Her name is Mattie.)

                         More good luck telegrams.

                         Well, you know how it is, I, I've 
                         just got to keep working. See?

                         Sorry, sister. I was sent down 
                         here to clean house. I told yuh I 
                         can't use your column any more. 
                         It's lavender and old lace!
                              (flicks dictograph 

                              (over dictograph)

                         Send those other people in.

                              (over dictograph)

                         I'll tell you what I'll do. I get 
                         thirty dollars a week. I'll take 
                         twenty-five, twenty if necessary. 
                         I'll do anything you say.

                         It isn't the money. We're after 
                         circulation. What we need is 
                         fireworks. People who can hit with 
                         sledge hammers—start arguments.

                         Oh, I can do that. I know this 
                         town inside out. Oh, give me a 
                         chance, please.

               She can get no further, for several people enter. They are 
               cowed and frightened. ANN hesitates a moment, then, there 
               being nothing for her to do, she starts to exit. She is 
               stopped by CONNELL's voice.

                         All right, come in, come in! Come 
                              (to Ann)
                         Cashier's got your check.
                              (back to others)
                         Who are these people? Gibbs, 
                         Frowley, Cunningham, Jiles—
                              (to Ann at door)
                         Hey, you, sister!

               Ann turns.

                         Don't forget to get out your last 
                         column before you pick up your 

               ANN's eyes flash angrily as she exits.

               INT. OUTER OFFICE. 

               MED. SHOT: ANN storms out. The painter again has to wait 
               for the door to swing back to him.

               INT. ANN'S OFFICE.

               FULL SHOT: ANN enters her office and paces around, furious. 
               A man in alpaca sleeve-bands enters. His name is JOE.

                         You're a couple o' sticks shy in 
                         your column, Ann.

                              (ignores him, 
                              muttering . . .)
                         A big, rich slob like D. B. Norton 
                         buys a paper—and forty heads are 
                         chopped off!

                         Did you get it, too?

                         Yeah. You, too? Oh, Joe . . . oh, 
                         I'm sorry darling . . . why don't 
                         we tear the building down!

                         Before you do, Ann, perhaps you'd 
                         better finish this column.

                         Yeah. Lavender and old lace!

               Suddenly she stops pacing. Her eyes widen as a fiendish 
               idea strikes her.

                         Wait, Joe—wait!

               She flops down in front of her typewriter.

                         Wants fireworks, huh? Okay!

               She begins to pound furiously, her jaw set.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. Eyes flashing as she types.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOE, watching her. The wild look in her eye 
               and the unnatural speed of her typing causes him to stare 
               dumbly at her.

               MED. SHOT: ANN bangs away madly. Finally she finishes. She 
               whips the sheet out of the typewriter, hands it to JOE.


               As JOE takes it, ANN begins to empty the drawers of her 

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOE reading what ANN has written.

                         "Below is a letter which reached 
                         my desk this morning. It's a 
                         commentary on what we laughingly 
                         call the civilized world. 'Dear 
                         Miss Mitchell: Four years ago I 
                         was fired out of my job. Since 
                         then I haven't been able to get 
                         another one. At first I was sore 
                         at the state administration because 
                         it's on account of the slimy 
                         politics here we have all this 
                         unemployment. But in looking around, 
                         it seems the whole world's going 
                         to pot, so in protest I'm going to 
                         commit suicide by jumping off the 
                         City Hall roof!' Signed, A disgusted 
                         American citizen, John Doe.'"

               JOE pauses to absorb this.

                              (continues reading)
                         "Editor's note . . . If you ask 
                         this column, the wrong people are 
                         jumping off roofs."

               JOE glances up toward ANN, in mild protest.

                         Hey, Ann, this is the old fakeroo, 
                         isn't it?

               FULL SHOT: ANN has just about accumulated all her things. 
               JOE stares at her, knowing it's a fake.

                         Never mind that, Joe. Go ahead.

               JOE shrugs, shakes his head, and exits. ANN stuffs her 
               things under her arm and also goes.

               INT. OUTER OFFICE

               MED. SHOT: Voices ad lib—"Awfully sorry you're not going." 
               "Good-bye." (Laughing)

               ANN comes out. Suddenly, she stops, gets another idea, 
               picks up a book from a desk, and reaches back to heave it.

               MED. SHOT: At CONNELL's office door. The sign-painter has 
               just finished CONNELL's name, and as he leans back, pleased, 
               wiping his brushes, the book flies in. The painter lifts 
               his head slowly, his wrath too great to find utterance.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 


               CLOSE-UP: Of two of GOVERNOR'S ASSOCIATES.

                              (reading newspaper)
                         " . . . and it's because of the 
                         slimy politics that we have all 
                         this unemployment here."
                         There it is! That's D. B. Norton's 
                         opening attack on the Governor!

                                     2ND MAN
                         Why Jim, it's just a letter sent 
                         in to a column.

                         No, no. I can smell it. That's 

               While he speaks, the GOVERNOR has entered.

                         Good morning, gentlemen. You're 
                         rather early.

                         'Morning. 'Morning, Governor.

                         You're here rather early.

                              (pushes paper over 
                              to him)
                         Did you happen to see this in the 
                         New Bulletin, Governor?

               He emphasizes the word "new" cynically.

                         Yes. I had it served with my 
                         breakfast this morning.

                                     2ND MAN
                         Jim thinks it's D. B. Norton at 

                         Of course it is!

                         Oh, come, Jim. That little item? 
                         D. B. Norton does things in a much 
                         bigger way . . .

                         This is his opening attack on you, 
                         Governor! Take my word for it! 
                         What did he buy a paper for?  Why 
                         did he hire a high-pressure editor 
                         like Connell for? He's in the oil 
                         business! I tell you, Governor, 
                         he's after your scalp!

                         All right, Jim. Don't burst a blood 
                         vessel, I'll attend to it.
                              (flips button on 
                         Get me Spencer of the Daily 
                         Chronicle , please.

                                                            DISSOLVE TO:

               INT. SPENCER'S OFFICE

               MED. SHOT: SPENCER is on the telephone

                         Yes. Yes. I saw it, Governor . . . 
                         and if you ask me that's a phoney 
                         letter. Why, that gag has got 
                         whiskers on it. Huh?  Okay, I'll 
                         get the Mayor and maybe the Chamber 
                         of Commerce to go after them.
                              (into dictagraph)
                         Get Mayor Lovett on the phone!

               INT. MAYOR'S OFFICE

               MED. SHOT: Of MAYOR's secretary.

                              (picking up phone)
                         Hello? Sorry, the Mayor's busy on 
                         the other phone.

               CAMERA PANS over to the MAYOR who is fatuous and excitable.

                              (into telephone)
                         Yes, I know, Mrs. Brewster. It's a 
                         terrible reflection on our city. 
                         I've had a dozen calls already.

               SECRETARY enters scene.

                         Spencer of the Chronicle .

                         Hold him.
                              (into phone)
                         Yes, Mrs. Brewster, I'm listening.

               The SECRETARY lays down the receiver.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INT. CORNER OF A BEDROOM 

               CLOSE SHOT: Of MRS. BREWSTER—stout and loud. She is propped 
               up in bed—a breakfast tray on her lap—the newspaper by her 

                                     MRS. BREWSTER
                         Insist that this John Doe man be 
                         found and given a job at once. If 
                         something isn't done. I'll call 
                         out the whole Auxiliary — yes, and 
                         the Junior Auxiliary, too. We'll 
                         hold a meeting and see—

                                                                 CUT TO:

               INT. MAYOR'S OFFICE

               MED. SHOT: Of MAYOR. He lays the receiver down and we 
               continue to hear MRS. BREWSTER's voice. MAYOR picks up 
               SPENCER's phone.

                         Yes, Spencer. Who? The Governor? 
                         Well, what about me? it's my 
                         building he's jumping off of! And 
                         I'm up for re-election, too!


                              (to Secretary)
                         What are you doing? Get Connell at 
                         the Bulletin !
                              (to Spencer)
                         Why, he's liable to go right past 
                         my window,
                         What was that?!


                         Out the window! Something just 
                         flew by!

                         I didn't see anything.

                         Well, don't stand there, you idiot. 
                         Go and look. Open the window. Oh, 
                         why did he have to pick on my 

               The SECRETARY, telephone in hand, peers out window.

                         Is there a crowd in the street?

                         No, sir.

                         Then he may be caught on a ledge! 
                         Look again!

                         I think it must have been a sea-

                         A sea-gull? What's a sea-gull doing 
                         around the city hall? That's a bad 
                         omen, isn't it?
                              (picks up Mrs. 
                              Brewster's phone)

                         Oh, n-no, sir. The sea-gull is a 
                         lovely bird.

                              (into telephone)
                         I-it's all right, Mrs. Brewster. 
                         It was just a sea-gull.
                              (catches himself)
                         Er. nothing's happened yet! No, 
                         I'm watching. Don't worry. Ju-just 
                         leave it all to me!

               The SECRETARY holds out another phone. The MAYOR drops 
               MRS. BREWSTER's phone again, and her voice is still heard.

                              (into Spencer's 
                         Spencer, I'll call you back.

               Secretary has gotten CONNELL on the phone—hands phone to 

                         Hello! Connell! This is—

                                     (TO SECRETARY)
                         What are you doing?
                              (back to phone)
                         This is the Mayor.

               INT. CONNELL'S OFFICE

               FULL SHOT: CONNELL is on the phone. POP DWYER is draped in 
               a chair nearby.

                         Yes, Mayor Lovett! How many times 
                         are you gonna call me?  I've got 
                         everybody and his brother and sister 
                         out looking for him. Did you see 
                         the box I'm running?

               He picks up the front page of the Bulletin; we see a four 
               column box on the front page.

                         "An appeal to John Doe. 'Think it 
                         over, John. Life can be beautiful,' 
                         says Mayor. 'If you need a job, 
                         apply to the editor of this paper 
                         . . .'" " and so forth and so forth 
                         . . . Okay, Mayor. I'll let you 
                         know as soon as I have something! 
                         What? . . . Well, pull down the 
                              (he hangs up)

               The door opens and a man enters. His name is BEANY. Walks 
               fast, talks fast and accomplishes nothing. Outside, we see 
               the painter trying once more to get his sign painted. He 
               reaches in—and pulls the door to.

                         I went up to Miss Mitchell's house, 
                         boss. Boy, she's in a bad way.

                         Where is she?

                         Hey, do you know something? She 
                         supports a mother and two kids. 
                         What do you know about that?

                              (controlling his 
                         Did you find her?

                         No. Her mother's awful worried 
                         about her. When she left the house 
                         she said she was going on a roaring 
                         drunk. Er, the girl, I mean!

                         Go out and find her!

                         Sure. Hey, but the biggest thing I 
                         didn't tell you . . .

               CONNELL picks up telephone.

                         Hello! . . . Yeh?

                         Her old man was Doc Mitchell. You 
                         know, the doc that saved my mother's 
                         life and wouldn't take any money 
                         for it? You remember that? Okay, 
                         boss, I'll go and look for her.

               BEANY exits, knocking over an ash-stand.

                              (into phone)
                         Holy smokes, Commissioner. You've 
                         had twenty-four hours! Okay, 
                         Hawkshaw, grab a pencil. Here it 
                         is again. She's about five foot 
                         five, brown eyes, light chestnut 
                         hair and as fine a pair of legs as 
                         . . .

               The door opens, ANN stands there—CONNELL sees her.

                              (into phone—staring 
                              at Ann)
                         . . . ever walked into this office.

               Med. Shot: At door. The sign painter is slowly beginning 
               to lose patience. He again reaches in—pulls the door 
               shut—glaring at ANN.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN.

                         Did you want to see me?

               WIDER SHOT: CONNELL, without moving, stares at her.

                         No. I've had the whole army and 
                         navy searching for you because 
                         that's a game we play here every 

                         I remember, distinctly, being fired.

                         That's right. But you have a piece 
                         of property that still belongs to 
                         this newspaper. And I'd like to 
                         have it!

                         What's that?

                         The letter.

                         What letter?

                         The letter from John Doe.


                         The whole town's in an uproar. 
                         We've got to find him. The letter's 
                         our only clue.

                         There is no letter.

                         We'll get a handwriting expert to—
                              (suddenly realizes 
                              what she has said)

                         There is no letter.

               He stares at her for a moment, flabbergasted—exchanges a 
               look with POP—crosses to the back door—shuts it—then comes 
               back to face her.

               CLOSE SHOT: - ANN and CONNELL.

                         Say that again.

                         There is no letter. I made it up.

               CONNELL looks at her a long moment and then up at POP.

                              (repeating dully)
                         You made it up.

                         Uh-huh. You said you wanted 

               WIDER SHOT: As he recovers from the shock, and then wheels 
               on ANN again.

                         Don't you know there are nine jobs 
                         waiting for this guy?  Twenty-two 
                         families want to board him free?  
                         Five women want to marry him, and 
                         the Mayor's practically ready to 
                         adopt him? And you . . .

               As CONNELL glares at her the door springs open and BEANY 

                         just called the morgue, boss. They 
                         say there's a girl there—

                         Shut up!

               CLOSE-UP: Of BEANY. He is startled by this—and then stares 
               popeyed as he sees ANN.

                         Ann! Say, why didn't yuh—


               Med. Shot: At the door. The painter is beginning to grind 
               his teeth. He pulls the door shut, viciously.

               WIDER SHOT: To include all.

                         Only one thing to do, Hank. Drop 
                         the whole business quickly.


                         Run a story. Say John Doe was in 
                         here, and is sorry he wrote the 
                         letter and—

                              (jumps in quickly)
                         That's right. You got it! Sure! He 
                         came in here and I made him change 
                         his mind. "Bulletin editor saves 
                         John Doe's life." Why, it's perfect. 
                         I'll have Ned write it up.
                              (into dictograph)
                         Oh, Ned!

                                     NED'S VOICE

                         got a story I want yuh to—

                         Wait a minute!

               She rushes over—snaps the dictograph off.

               MED. SHOT: Of ANN, leaning on CONNELL's desk.

                         Listen, you great big wonderful 
                         genius of a newspaperman! You came 
                         down here to shoot some life into 
                         this dying paper, didn't you?

               CONNELL blinks under the attack. POP and BEANY move into 
               the scene.

                         Well, the whole town's curious 
                         about John Doe and, boom, just 
                         like that you're going to bury 
                         him. There's enough circulation in 
                         that man to start a shortage in 
                         the ink market!

                         In what man!

                         John Doe.

                         What John Doe?

                         Our John Doe! The one I made up!  
                         Look, genius— Now, look. Suppose 
                         there was a John Doe—and he walked 
                         into this office. What would you 
                         do? Find him a job and forget about 
                         the whole business, I suppose! Not 
                         me! I'd have made a deal with him!

                         A deal?

                         Sure!  When you get hold of a stunt 
                         that sells papers you don't drop 
                         it like a hot potato. Why, this is 
                         good for at least a couple of 
                         months. You know what I'd do?  
                         Between now and let's say, 
                         Christmas, when he's gonna jump, 
                         I'd run a daily yarn starting with 
                         his boyhood, his schooling, his 
                         first job!  A wide-eyed youngster 
                         facing a chaotic world. The problem 
                         of the average man, of all the 
                         John Does in the world.

               TWO SHOT: ANN and CONNELL. Despite himself, he's interested 
               in her recital.

                         Now, then comes the drama. He meets 
                         discouragement. He finds the world 
                         has feet of clay. His ideals 
                         crumble. So what does he do?  He 
                         decides to commit suicide in protest 
                         against the state of civilization. 
                         He thinks of the river!  But no, 
                         no, he has a better idea. The City 
                         Hall. Why?  Because he wants to 
                         attract attention. He wants to get 
                         a few things off his chest, and 
                         that's the only way he can get 
                         himself heard.


               FULL SHOT: Of the whole group. BEANY grins in admiration. 
               CONNELL has leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued on 

                         So!  So he writes me a letter and 
                         I dig him up. He pours out his 
                         soul to me, and from now on we 
                         quote: "I protest, by John Doe."  
                         He protests against all the evils 
                         in the world; the greed, the lust, 
                         the hate, the fear, all of man's 
                         inhumanity to man.

               Arguments will start. Should he commit suicide or should 
               he not! People will write in pleading with him. But no! 
               No, sir! John Doe will remain adamant!  On Christmas Eve, 
               hot or cold, he goes! See?

               She finishes, takes a deep breath—awed, and at the same 
               time proud of her accomplishment.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of CONNELL. He just stares at ANN.

                              (after a 
                         Very pretty. Very pretty, indeed, 
                         Miss Mitchell. But would you mind 
                         telling me who goes on Christmas 

                         John Doe.

                         What John Doe?

                              (screams right back)
                         The one we hire for the job, you 

               There is silence for a moment.

                              with a controlled 
                         Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Lemme 
                         get this through this lame brain 
                         of mine. Are you suggesting we go 
                         out and hire someone to say he's 
                         gonna commit suicide on Christmas 
                         Eve? Is that it?

                         Well, you're catching on.

                         Who, for instance?

                         Anybody! Er, er—Beany'll do!

               CLOSE-UP: BEANY. He is petrified.

                         Why sure—Who? Me? Jump off a—Oh, 
                         no! Any time but Christmas. I'm 

               FULL SHOT: BEANY backs away from them—and when he gets to 
               the door—makes a dash for it.

               INT. OUTER OFFICE

               MED. SHOT: At door. As BEANY comes dashing out, he almost 
               upsets the painter from the stool. When the door is shut, 
               the name of "Connell" which he has been printing is all 
               smudged over. The painter stares at it, helplessly for a 
               second, and then—unable to stand it any more, rises, throws 
               his brush violently to the floor—after completely smearing 
               the sign himself.

               FULL SHOT:

                         Miss Mitchell, do me a favor, will 
                         you? Go on out and get married and 
                         have a lot o' babies—but stay out 
                         o' newspaper business!

                         Better get that story in, Hank, 
                         it's getting late.

                              (to CONNELL)
                         You're supposed to be a smart guy!  
                         If it was raining hundred dollar 
                         bills, you'd be out looking for a 
                         dime you lost some place.

                         Holy smokes! Wasting my time 
                         listening to this mad woman.

               He crosses to his desk just as NED enters from the back 

                         Look, Chief! Look what the Chronicle 
                         is running on John Doe. They say 
                         it's a fake!

               CONNELL turns sharply.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She was just about giving up, when she 
               hears this—and her eyes brighten alertly.

               MED. SHOT: At CONNELL's desk. CONNELL—reading the 
               paper—becomes incensed.

                         Why, the no-good—low-down—
                         "John Doe story amateur journalism. 
                         It's palpably phoney. It's a wonder 
                         anyone is taking it seriously." 
                         What do yuh think of those guys!

               ANN has walked into scene while CONNELL is reading.

                         That's fine! That's fine!  Now 
                         fall right into their laps. Go 
                         ahead. Say John Doe walked in and 
                         called the whole thing off. You 
                         know what that's going to sound 
                         like on top of this!

                              (doesn't like Ned 
                              hearing all this)
                         That's all, Ned. Thank you.

                         All right.

               NED, puzzled, exits. CONNELL comes away from his desk and 
               walks around.

                              (fighting spirit)
                         "Amateur journalism", huh? Why, 
                         the bunch of sophomores! I can 
                         teach them more about—

               But he is interrupted by the front door being flung open. 
               On the threshold stands BEANY.

                         Hey, boss. Get a load of this.

                              (joins him in the 


               MED. SHOT: - OVER THEIR SHOULDERS.  In the outer office 
               are a large group of derelict-looking men. Some 
               standing—some sitting—some leaning. It looks like the lobby 
               of a flophouse had been transplanted.

               CLOSE SHOT: Beany and Connell.

                         What do they want?

                         They all say they wrote the John 
                         Doe letter.

               MED. SHOT: POP and ANN have walked over and also peer out.

                              (amused, turns)
                         Oh, they all wrote the letter?

               ANN pushes CONNELL aside—talks to BEANY.

                         Tell them all to wait.

               She shuts the door and turns to CONNELL.

                         Look, Mr. Connell—one of those men 
                         is your John Doe. They're desperate 
                         and will do anything for a cup of 
                         coffee. Pick one out and you can 
                         make the Chronicle eat their words.

               CLOSE-UP: Of CONNELL. A broad smile slowly spreads over 
               his face.

                         I'm beginning to like this.

               MED.  SHOT: POP looks worried.

                         If you ask me, Hank, you're playing 
                         around with dynamite.

                         No, no, no, the gal's right. We 
                         can't let the Chronicle get the 
                         laugh on us! We've got to produce 
                         a John Doe now.
                         Amateur journalism, huh!
                              (starts for door)
                         I'll show those guys.

                         Sure—and there's no reason for 
                         them to find out the truth, either.
                         Because, naturally, I won't say 

               CONNELL turns sharply, stares at her a moment puzzled, 
               then grins.

                         Okay, sister, you get your job 

                         Plus a bonus.

                         What bonus?

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She takes the plunge. She is a little 
               frightened at her own nerve, but she is going to brazen it 

                              (tries to drop it 
                         Oh, the bonus of a thousand dollars 
                         the Chronicle was going to pay me 
                         for this little document. You'll 
                         find it says, er: "I, Ann Mitchell, 
                         hereby certify that the John Doe 
                         letter was created by me—"

               MED. SHOT: As she speaks, she gets the "little document" 
               out of her bag, hands it to CONNELL who glares at her, 
               takes the paper and starts to read. Ann leans over his 
               shoulder. POP peers over his other shoulder.

                         I can read. I can read!


               She backs away. CONNELL continues reading her confession.

                         So you think this is worth a 
                         thousand dollars, do you?

                              (very carelessly)
                         Oh, the Chronicle would consider 
                         it dirt cheap.

                         Packs everything, including a gun.
                              (flings paper on 
                         Okay, sister, you've got yourself 
                         a deal. Now let's take a look at 
                         the candidates. The one we pick 
                         has gotta be the typical average 
                         man. Typical American that can 
                         keep his mouth shut.

                         Show me an American who can keep 
                         his mouth shut and—I'll eat him.

                              (opens door)
                         Okay, Beany, bring 'em in one at a 
                              (he steps back and 
                              rubs his hands in 
                         Wipe to: Montage: Half a dozen 
                         different types of hoboes appear—and 
                         in each instance ANN shakes her 
                         head, negatively.

                                                                WIPE TO:

               CLOSE SHOT: Of a TALL CHAP, head hanging shyly.

               TWO SHOT: Of ANN and CONNELL. They are impressed.

               FULL SHOT: ANN and CONNELL exchange hopeful glances and 
               begin slowly walking around the new candidate.

               CLOSE-UP: Of TALL CHAP. He feels awkward under this 

               WIDER SHOT: CONNELL stops in his examination of the man.

                         Did you write that letter to Miss 

                                     TALL CHAP
                              (after a pause)
                         No, I didn't.

               ANN, CONNELL and POP evince their surprise.

                         What are you doing up here then?

                                     TALL CHAP
                         Well, the paper said there were 
                         some jobs around loose. Thought 
                         there might be one left over.

               They study him for a second, then ANN walks over close to 

               TWO SHOT: ANN and TALL CHAP.

                         Had any schooling?

                                     TALL CHAP
                         Yeah, a little.

                         What do you do when you work?

                                     TALL CHAP
                              (slight pause)
                         I used to pitch.


                                     TALL CHAP
                         Uh-huh. Till my wing[4] went bad.

                         Where'd you play?

                                     TALL CHAP
                         Bush leagues mostly.[5] Med. shot: 
                         To include the rest of them. They 
                         have their eyes glued on his face. 
                         ANN is very much interested.

                         How about family? Got any family?

                                     TALL CHAP
                              (after a pause)

                         Oh, just traveling through, huh?

                                     TALL CHAP
                         Yeah. Me and a friend of mine. 
                         He's outside.

               CONNELL nods to the others to join him in a huddle. He 
               crosses to a corner. They follow.

               CLOSE THREE SHOT: They speak in subdued voices.

                         Looks all right—

                         He's perfect! A baseball player. 
                         What could be more American!

                         I wish he had a family, though.

                         Be less complicated without a 

                         Look at that face. It's wonderful. 
                         They'll believe him . Come on.

               CLOSE-UP: Of TALL CHAP. He is a strange, bewildered figure. 
               He knows he is being appraised, but doesn't know why. He 
               fingers his hat nervously and looks around the room. 
               Suddenly he is attracted by something.

               CLOSE-UP: Of tray of sandwiches on CONNELL's desk.

               CLOSE-UP: Of TALL CHAP. He swallows hard. His eyes stare 
               at the sandwiches hungrily.

               MED. SHOT: Over his shoulder. Shooting toward the huddling 
               group. It breaks up. They walk toward him.

               MED. SHOT: - ANOTHER ANGLE

                         What's your name?

                                     TALL CHAP
                         Willoughby. John Willoughby, Long 
                         John Willoughby they called me in 

                         Er, would you, er, would you like 
                         to make some money?

                         Yeah, maybe.

               NOTE: Henceforth in this script he shall be referred to as 
               JOHN DOE.

                         Would you be willing to say you 
                         wrote that letter—and stick by it?

                         Oh, I get the idea. Yeah, maybe.

               There is an appraising pause, and CONNELL again signals 
               them to join him in a huddle. They exit to their corner.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His eyes immediately go to the 

               CLOSE-UP: Of tray, with sandwiches and milk, on desk.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His eyes riveted on tray. He glances, 
               speculatively, over toward them and then back to the tray.

               MED. SHOT: Of the huddled group.

                         That's our man. He's made to order.

                         I don't know. He don't seem like a 
                         guy that'd fall into line.

                              (it's significant 
                              to her)
                         When you're desperate for money, 
                         you do a lot of things, Mr. Connell. 
                         He's our man, I tell you.

               Suddenly, they are startled by a loud thud: they all look 
               around sharply.

                         He's fainted! Get some water 

               As all three rush to him.

                         Hurry up, Pop.


                              (to John)
                         Right here. Sit down.


                         Are you all right?

                         Yeah, I'm all right.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INT. ANN'S OFFICE. 

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN—sitting at ANN's desk, just completing a 
               meal—and still eating voraciously.

               CAMERA draws back and we find another bindle-stiff sitting 
               beside JOHN, packing food away in silence. He is the friend 
               JOHN referred to. He is much older and goes by the name of 

               CAMERA continues to PULL BACK revealing ANN who sits nearby, 
               watching them sympathetically.

               CLOSE SHOT: JOHN and the COLONEL. They continue eating. 
               JOHN glances up and catches ANN's eye. He smiles self-

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She, too, smiles warmly.

               MED. SHOT: They continue to eat silently.

                         How many is that, six? Pretty 
                         hungry, weren't you?

                         Say, all this John Doe business is 
                         batty, if yuh ask me.

                         Well, nobody asked yuh.

                         Trying to improve the world by 
                         jumping off buildings. You couldn't 
                         improve the world if the building 
                         jumped on you!

                              (to Ann)
                         Don't mind the Colonel. He hates 

                         He likes you well enough to stick 

                         Oh, that's 'cause we both play 
                         doohickies. I met him in a box car 
                         a couple o' years ago. I was foolin' 
                         around with my harmonica and he 
                         comes over and joins in. I haven't 
                         been able to shake him since.

               FULL SHOT: SUDDENLY, he starts to play the overture from 
               "William Tell."  The COLONEL whips out an ocarina and joins 
               him. ANN stares, amused. The door opens and CONNELL and 
               BEANY barge in, followed by half a dozen photographers.

                         All right, boys, here he is.

                              (jumping up)
                         No, no, no! You can't take pictures 
                         of him like that—eating a 
                         sandwich—and with a beard!

               She waves the photographers out, and shuts the door.

                         But, he's gonna jump off a building!

                         Yes, but not because he's out of a 
                         job. That's not news! This man's 
                         going to jump as a matter of 

                         Well, maybe you're right.

                         We'll clean him up and put him in 
                         a hotel room—under bodyguards. 
                         We'll make a mystery out of him.
                         Did you speak to Mr. Norton?

                         Thinks it's terrific. Says for us 
                         to go the limit. Wants us to build 
                         a bonfire under every big shot in 
                         the state.

                         Oh, swell! Is that the contract?
                              (seeing paper in 
                              CONNELL's hand)

                              (sees the COLONEL)
                         What's he doing here?

                         Friend of his. They play duets 

                         Duets? But can we trust him?


                         I trust him.

                         Oh, you trust him, eh? Well, that's 
                         fine. I suppose he trusts you, 

                         Oh, stop worrying. He's all right.


                         Well, okay. But we don't want more 
                         than a couple o' hundred people in 
                         on this thing. Now the first thing 
                         I want is an exact copy of the 
                         John Doe letter in your own 

                         I got it all ready. Here.

                         Well, that's fine. Now I want you 
                         to sign this agreement. It gives 
                         us an exclusive story under your 
                         name day by day from now until 
                         Christmas. On December twenty-sixth, 
                         you get one railroad ticket out of 
                         town, and the Bulletin agrees to 
                         pay to have your arm fixed. That's 
                         what you want, isn't it?

                         Yeah, but it's got to be by Bone-
                         Setter Brown.

                         Okay, Bone-Setter Brown goes. Here, 
                         sign it. Meanwhile, here's fifty 
                         dollars for spending money. That's 
                         fine. Beany!

                         Yeah, Boss?

                         Take charge of him. Get him a suite 
                         at the Imperial and hire some 

                         Yeah, and some new clothes, Beany.

                         Do you think we better have him de-

                         Yeah, yeah, yeah.

                         Both of 'em?

                         Yes, both of 'em! But don't let 
                         him out of your sight.

                         Hey, Beany, gray suit, huh?


                         Okay, fellows.

                         Take it easy, John Doe.

               JOHN and the COLONEL follow BEANY out.

                              (turns to Ann)
                         And you! Start pounding that 
                         typewriter. Oh, boy! This is 
                         terrific!  No responsibilities on 
                         our part. Just statements from 
                         John Doe and we can blast our heads 

                         Before you pop too many buttons, 
                         don't forget to make out that check 
                         for a thousand.


                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INT. LIVING-ROOM OF SUITE

               FULL SHOT: The door opens and BEANY enters. He is followed 
               by JOHN and the COLONEL. JOHN glances around, impressed. 
               The COLONEL looks glum.

               MED. SHOT: At door. As JOHN exits scene into the room, 
               tailed by the unhappy COLONEL. BEANY beckons someone out 
               in the corridor.

                         Okay, fellas.

               Three bruisers stand in the doorway.

                         Now, lemme see. You sit outside 
                         the door. Nobody comes in, see. 
                         You two fellas sit in here.

               AS THEY REACH FOR CHAIRS,

                                                                 CUT TO:

               MED. SHOT: JOHN is pleased as his gaze wanders around the 

                         Hey, pretty nifty, huh?

                         You ain't gonna get me to stay 

                         Sure, you are.

                         No, sir. That spot under the bridge 
                         where we slept last night's good 
                         enough for me.

               While he speaks, JOHN has managed to get a glimpse of 
               himself in a mirror—admiring his new suit.

                                     BELL HOP
                         Hey, what'll I do with this baggage?

                         Aw, stick 'em in the bedroom.

                         Gimme mine. I ain't staying! You 
                         know we were headed for the Columbia 
                         River country before all this John 
                         Doe business came up. You remember 
                         that, don't yuh?

                         Sure. I remember . . . Say, did 
                         your ears pop coming up in the 
                         elevator? Mine did.

                         Aw, Long John . . . I tell you—it's 
                         no good. You're gonna get used to 
                         a lotta stuff that's gonna wreck 
                         you. Why, that fifty bucks in your 
                         pocket's beginning to show up on 
                         you already. And don't pull that 
                         on me neither!
                              (as John brings out 

                         Stop worrying, Colonel. I'm gonna 
                         get my arm fixed out of this.

               WIDER SHOT: As BEANY enters scene with box of cigars.

                         Here's some cigars the boss sent 
                         up. Have one.

               JOHN's eyes light up.

                         Hey, cigars!

               He grabs one and stuffs it in his mouth.

                              (to Colonel)
                         Help yourself.


               JOHN flops into a luxurious chair—and immediately ANGELFACE 
               holds a light up for his cigar. JOHN looks up, pleased.

                         Say, I'll bet yuh even the Major 
                         Leaguers don't rate an outfit like 

                              (hands him a 
                         Here. Make yourself comfortable.
                              (turns to the Colonel)

                         I don't read no papers and I don't 
                         listen to radios either. I know 
                         the world's been shaved by a drunken 
                         barber and I don't have to read 

               ANGELFACE backs away, puzzled.

                              (crosses to John)
                         I've seen guys like you go under 
                         before. Guys that never had a worry. 
                         Then they got ahold of some dough 
                         and went goofy. The first thing 
                         that happens to a guy—

                         Hey, did yuh get a load of the 


               BEANY beckons to him to follow, which JOHN does with great 

               INT. BEDROOM

               FULL SHOT: As BEANY and JOHN puff luxuriously on their 
               cigars and examine the room.

                              (in doorway)
                         The first thing that happens to a 
                         guy like that—he starts wantin' to 
                         go into restaurants and sit at a 
                         table and eat salads—and cup 
                         cakes—and tea—
                         Boy, what that kinda food does to 
                         your system!

               JOHN pushes on the bed and is impressed with its softness.

                         The next thing the dope wants is a 
                         room.  Yes sir, a room with steam 
                         heat!  And curtains and rugs and 
                         'fore you know it, he's all softened 
                         up and he can't sleep 'less he has 
                         a bed.

               CLOSE-UP: Of BEANY. He stares, bewildered, at the COLONEL.

               WIDER SHOT: JOHN turns and crosses to window.

                              (as he goes)
                         Hey, stop worrying, Colonel. Fifty 
                         bucks ain't going to ruin me.

                         I seen plenty of fellers start out 
                         with fifty bucks and wind up with 
                         a bank account!

                              (can't stand it any 
                         Hey, whatsa matter with a bank 
                         account, anyway?

                              (ignoring him)
                         And let me tell you, Long John. 
                         When you become a guy with a bank 
                         account, they got you.  Yes sir, 
                         they got you!

                         Who's got him?

                         The heelots!


                              (at the window)
                         Hey. There's the City Hall tower 
                         I'm supposed to jump off of. It's 
                         even higher than this.

                         Who's got him?

                         The heelots!

               CLOSE-UP: JOHN opens window and leans out.

               CLOSE-UP: Of BEANY. His eyes pop; he's petrified.

               MED. SHOT: JOHN stretches far out of the window, and quickly 
               bounces back.


               At the same time BEANY springs to his side and yanks him 

                         Hey, wait a minute!  You ain't 
                         supposed to do that till Christmas 
                         Eve! Wanta get me in a jam?

                              (twinkle in his eye)
                         If it's gonna get you in a jam, 
                         I'll do you a favor. I won't jump.

               He exits to the living room.

               INT. LIVING ROOM 

               FULL SHOT: As JOHN enters, flicking ashes from his cigar, 
               grandly, the COLONEL leaves the doorway, still pursuing 
               his point.

                         And when they get you, you got no 
                         more chance than a road-rabbit.

                              (dogging the COLONEL)
                         Hey. Who'd you say was gonna get 

                         Say, is this one of those places 
                         where you ring if you want 

                         Yeah. Just use the phone.

               The thought of this delights JOHN.

                         Boy! I've always wanted to do this!

               He goes to the phone.

                         Hey, Doc, look. Look, Doc. Gimme 
                         that again, will yuh? Who's gonna 
                         get him?

                         The heelots!

                         Who are they?

               TWO SHOT: The COLONEL finally levels off on BEANY.

                         Listen, sucker, yuh ever been broke?

                         Sure. Mostly often.

                         All right. You're walking along—not 
                         a nickel in your jeans—free as the 
                         wind—nobody bothers you—hundreds 
                         of people pass yuh by in every 
                         line of business—shoes, hats, 
                         automobiles, radio, furniture, 
                         everything. They're all nice, 
                         lovable people, and they let you 
                         alone. Is that right?

               CLOSE-UP: Of BEANY—nodding his head, bewildered.

                                     COLONEL'S VOICE
                         Then you get hold of some dough, 
                         and what happens?

               BEANY instinctively shakes his head.

               TWO SHOT: The COLONEL takes on a sneering expression.

                         All those nice, sweet, lovable 
                         people become heelots. A lotta 
                         They begin creeping up on you—trying 
                         to sell you something. They've got 
                         long claws and they get a strangle-
                         hold on you—and you squirm—and 
                         duck and holler—and you try to 
                         push 'em away—but you haven't got 
                         a chance—they've got you! First 
                         thing you know, you own things. A 
                         car, for instance.

               BEANY has been following him, eyes blinking, mouth open.

                         Now your whole life is messed up 
                         with more stuff—license fees—and 
                         number plates—and gas and oil—and 
                         taxes and insurance—

               CLOSE SHOT: Of the LUGS at the door. One of them listens 
               with a half-smile on his face. The other, more goofy, looks 
               bewildered. He has been listening—and now, slowly rises, 
               ears cocked, frightened by the harrowing tale. CAMERA 
               retreats before him—as he slowly walks nearer to BEANY and 
               the COLONEL. Meantime, we continue to hear the COLONEL'S 

                                     COLONEL'S VOICE
                         and identification cards—and 
                         letters—and bills—and flat tires—and 
                         dents—and traffic tickets and 
                         motorcycle cops and court rooms—and 
                         lawyers—and fines—

               WIDER SHOT: The LUG steps up directly behind BEANY—and the 
               two horrified faces are close together—both staring at the 

                         And a million and one other things. 
                         And what happens? You're not the 
                         free and happy guy you used to be. 
                         You gotta have money to pay for 
                         all those things—so you go after 
                         what the other feller's got—
                              (with finality)
                         And there you are—you're a heelot 

               CLOSE SHOT: Of the two heads of BEANY and the LUG. They 
               continue to stare, wide-eyed, at the COLONEL.

               WIDER SHOT: As JOHN approaches the COLONEL.

                         You win, Colonel. Here's the fifty. 
                         Go on out and get rid of it.

                              (as he goes)
                         You bet I will! As fast as I can!  
                         Gonna get some canned goods—a 
                         fishing rod, and the rest I'm gonna 
                         give away.

                         Give away?

                         Hey. Get me a pitcher's glove! Got 
                         to get some practice.

                         Say, he's giving it away! I'm gonna 
                         get me some of that!

                         Hey, come back here, yuh heelot!

                              (on the phone)
                         Will you send up five hamburgers 
                         with all the trimmings, five 
                         chocolate ice cream sodas, and 
                         five pieces of apple pie? No, apple, 
                         with cheese. Yeah. Thank you.

               JOHN hangs up.

               The COLONEL has just reached the door when it flies open 
               and Ann comes in with photographer EDDIE—she sees JOHN all 
               dressed up.

                         Hello there. Well, well! If it 
                         isn't the man about town!

                         All set, Ann?

                              (coming out of it)
                         Huh? Oh, yes. Let's go.
                              (she backs away)
                         Now, let's see. We want some action 
                         in these pictures.



               JOHN winds up in pitching pose—his left leg lifted up high.

                         That's good.

                         No, no, no. This man's going to 
                         jump off a roof.


                         Here. Wait a minute. Let me comb 
                         your hair. Sit down. There. That's 

               CLOSE SHOT: She combs his hair—straightens his tie—etc. He 
               inhales the fragrance of her hair and likes it—winks to 
               the others. She poses JOHN's face and looks it over.

                         You know, he's got a nice face, 
                         hasn't he?

                         Yeh—he's pretty.

               JOHN gives him a look and starts to get up slowly.

                         Here. Sit down!
                              (to ANGELFACE)
                         Quiet, egghead!
                              (back to JOHN)
                         All right, now, a serious 

                         Can't. I'm feeling too good.

                         Oh, come on, now. This is serious. 
                         You're a man disgusted with all of 

                         With all of it?

                         Yes, you're sore at the world. 
                         Come on, now.

                         Oh, crabby guy, huh?

               He tries scowling.

                         Yeah. No, no!
                         No! No, look. You don't have to 
                         smell the world!
                              (the men laugh)

                         Well, all those guys in the 
                         bleachers think—

                         Never mind those guys. All right, 
                         stand up. Now let's see what you 
                         look like when you protest.

                         Against what?

                         Against anything. Just protest.

                         You got me.

                         Oh, look. I'm the umpire, and you 
                         just cut the heart of the plate 
                         with your fast one and I call it a 
                         ball. What would you do?

                              (advances toward 
                         Oh, yuh did, huh?


                         Why can't you call right, you bone-
                         headed, pig-eared, lop-eared, pot-

                         Grab it, Eddie, grab it!

               Eddie takes the picture.


               "I protest against collapse of decency in the world." "I 
               protest against corruption in local politics." "I protest 
               against civic heads being in league with crime."  "I protest 
               against state relief being used as political football." "I 
               protest against County Hospitals shutting out the needy." 
               "I protest against all the brutality and slaughter in the 

               CLOSE-UP: SUPERIMPOSED over all of the above is a 
               CIRCULATION CHART—showing the circulation of the Bulletin 
               in a constant rise.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INT. GOVERNOR'S STUDY 

               MED. SHOT: The GOVERNOR paces furiously. In front of him 
               are several associates.

                         I don't care whose picture they're 
                         publishing. I still say that this 
                         John Doe person is a myth. And you 
                         can quote me on that. And I'm going 
                         to insist on his being produced 
                         for questioning. You know as well 
                         as I do that this whole thing is 
                         being engineered by a vicious man 
                         with a vicious purpose—Mr. D. B. 

               As he finishes saying this, 

                                                            DISSOLVE TO:

               EXT. D. B.'S ESTATE

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. NORTON. Camera pulls back and we find 
               him on horseback.

               REVERSE LONG SHOT: We discover that he is watching the 
               maneuvers of a motorcycle corps who are in uniform. They 
               are being drilled by TED SHELDON.

               MED. SHOT: As a groom rides toward D. B.

                         Mr. Connell and Miss Mitchell are 
                         at the house, sir.

                                     D. B.
                         Oh, they are? All right, come on.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INT. D. B. 'S STUDY

               MED. SHOT—PANNING: As ANN, D. B. and CONNELL enter and 
               cross to D. B. 's desk.

                              (as they walk)
                         Personally, I think it's just plain 
                         stupidity to drop it now.

               They reach D. B. 's desk and stop.

                         You should see his fan mail!  
                         Thousands! Why, it's going over 
                         like a house afire!

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. He studies her a moment before he turns 
               to CONNELL.

                                     D. B.
                         What are you afraid of, Connell? 
                         It's doubled our circulation.

               WIDER SHOT: To include all three.

                         Yeah, but it's got everybody sore. 
                         Ads are being pulled—the Governor's 
                         starting a libel suit—what's more, 
                         they all know John Doe's a 
                         phoney—and they insist on seeing 

                         Well, what about it?  Let them see 
                         him!  We'll go them one better. 
                         They can also hear him.
                              (to D. B.)
                         You own a radio station, Mr. Norton. 
                         Why not put him on the air?

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. He admires her fight.

                                     CONNELL'S VOICE
                         Watch out for this dame, D. B. 
                         She'll drive you batty!


               WIDER SHOT: To include all three.

                         Look. We can't let 'em get to this 
                         bush-league pitcher and start 
                         pumping him. Good night!  No telling 
                         what that screwball might do. I 
                         walked in yesterday—here he is, 
                         standing on a table with a fishing 
                         pole flycasting. Take my advice 
                         and get him out of town before 
                         this thing explodes in our faces!

                         If you do, Mr. Norton, you're just 
                         as much of a dumb cluck as he is! 
                         Excuse me.

                              (to Ann—hotly)
                         No, you've got yourself a meal 
                         ticket and you hate to let go.

                         Sure, it's a meal ticket for me. I 
                         admit it, but it's also a windfall 
                         for somebody like Mr. Norton who's 
                         trying to crash national politics.
                              (she turns to D. B.)
                         That's what you bought the newspaper 
                         for, isn't it? You wanta reach a 
                         lotta people, don't you?  Well, 
                         put John Doe on the air and you 
                         can reach a hundred and fifty 
                         million of 'em. He can say anything 
                         he wants and they'll listen to 

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. Fascinated by ANN.

               WIDER SHOT: CONNELL stares at her derisively. D. B. is 
               completely absorbed.

                         All right, let's not forget the 
                         Governor, the Mayor and all small 
                         fry like that. This can arouse 
                         national interest! If he made a 
                         hit around here—he can do it 
                         everywhere else in the country! 
                         And you'll be pulling the strings, 
                         Mr. Norton!

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. His eyes have begun to light up with 
               extensive plans.

               WIDER SHOT: D. B. continues to study ANN with deep interest. 
               Then he turns to CONNELL.

                                     D. B.
                         Go down to the office and arrange 
                         for some radio time.

                         Why, D. B., you're not going to 
                         fall for—

                                     D. B.
                              (interrupting sharply)
                         I want it as soon as possible.

                         Okay. I just came in to get warm, 
                         myself. Come on, let's go.

               He starts out. ANN picks up her bag, prepared to follow 

                                     D. B.
                         Er, don't you go. I want to talk 
                         to you.

               CONNELL goes. ANN waits, somewhat nervously.

                                     D. B.
                              (when CONNELL is 
                         Sit down.

               MED. TWO SHOT: ANN and D. B. D. B. studies her for a moment.

                                     D. B.
                         . . . Er, this John Doe idea is 
                         yours, huh?

                         Yes, sir.

                                     D. B.
                         How much money do you get?

                         Thirty dollars.

                                     D. B.
                         Thirty dollars? Well, er, what are 
                         you after? I mean, what do you 
                         want? A journalistic career?


                                     D. B.
                         Money?  Well, I'm glad to hear 
                         somebody admit it. Do you suppose 
                         you could write a radio speech 
                         that would put that fellow over?

                         Oh, I'm sure I can.

                                     D. B.
                         Do it, and I'll give you a hundred 
                         dollars a week.

                         A hundred dollars!

                                     D. B.
                         That's only the beginning. You 
                         play your cards right and you'll 
                         never have to worry about money 
                         again. Oh, I knew it.

               ANN'S eyes brighten with excitement. They are interrupted 
               by the arrival of TED SHELDON, in uniform.

                                     D. B.
                              (to TED)
                         Hello. Whenever there's a pretty 
                         woman around, er—
                         This is my nephew, Ted Sheldon, 
                         Miss Mitchell.

                         How do you do.

                         How do you do!

                                     D. B.
                         All right, Casanova. I'll give you 
                         a break. See that Miss Mitchell 
                         gets a car to take her home.

                         Always reading my mind, aren't 

                         Thank you very much for everything.

                                     D. B.
                         And, Miss Mitchell—I think from 
                         now on you'd better work directly 
                         with me.

                         Yes, sir.

               They exit. D. B. walks to the door, a pleased expression 
               on his face.

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. His face wreathed in a victorious smile.


               FADE IN:

               INT. ANNE'S LIVING ROOM

               CLOSE SHOT: Of ANN. She sits at a typewriter reading 
               something she has written. Suddenly, impulsively, she yanks 
               the sheet out of the machine and flings it to the floor.  
               As she rises, camera pulls back. We find the floor littered 
               with previously unsuccessful attempts to get the speech 
               written. For a moment, ANN paces agitatedly, until she is 
               interrupted by a commotion.

               MED. SHOT: At door. ANN's two sisters, IRENE and ELLEN, 
               aged nine and eleven—and dressed in their sleeping pajamas, 
               dash in, squealing mischievously. Camera pans with them as 
               they rush to ANN and leap on her.

                         Oh! Hey! Oh, hey! I thought you 
                         were asleep!

                         We just wanted to say good night, 

               They embrace and kiss her.

                         Oh, oh! Oh, you little brats! You're 
                         just stalling. I said good night!

               MED. SHOT: At door. ANN'S MOTHER appears in the doorway. 
               She is a prim little woman—her clothes have a touch of the 
               Victorian about them—her hair is done up in old-fashioned 
               style, her throat is modestly covered in lace.

                              (above the din)
                         Come, come, come, children. It's 
                         past your bedtime.

                         Oh, all right.

                         Go on!

                         Come on, Pooch! Come on, come on.

                         Now, keep Pooch off the bed.

               The CHILDREN exit, squealing. ANN'S MOTHER goes to ANN's 
               desk and searches for something.

                         Stick a fork through me! I'm done. 
                         I'll never get this speech right.

                         Oh, yes you will, Ann dear . . . 
                         you're very clever.

                         Yeah, I know. What are you looking 

                         Your purse. I need ten dollars.

                         What for? I gave you fifty just 
                         the other day.

                         Yes, I know, dear, but Mrs. Burke 
                         had her baby yesterday. Nine pounds! 
                         And there wasn't a thing in the 
                         house—and then this morning the 
                         Community Chest lady came around 

                         And the fifty's all gone, huh? 
                         Who's the ten for?

                         The Websters.

                         The Websters!

                         You remember those lovely people 
                         your father used to take care of?  
                         I thought I'd buy them some 
                         groceries. Oh, Ann, dear, it's a 
                         shame, those poor—

                         You're marvelous, Ma. You're just 
                         like Father used to be. Do you 
                         realize a couple of weeks ago we 
                         didn't have enough to eat ourselves?

                         Well, yes, I know, dear, but these 
                         people are in such need and we 
                         have plenty now.

                         If you're thinking of that thousand 
                         dollars, forget it. It's practically 
                         gone. We owed everybody in town.  
                         Now, you've just gotta stop giving 
                         all your money away.

               Her MOTHER looks up, surprised at her tone.

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         Oh, Ann, dear!

               CLOSE-UP: ANN realizes she has spoken sharply to her MOTHER 
               and immediately regrets it. Her face softens.

               MED. SHOT: As ANN crosses to her MOTHER—and places an arm 
               around her shoulder, tenderly.

                         Oh, I'm sorry, Ma. Oh, don't pay 
                         any attention to me. I guess I'm 
                         just upset about all this. Gee 
                         whiz, here I am with a great 
                         opportunity to get somewhere, to 
                         give us security for once in our 
                         lives, and I'm stuck. If I could 
                         put this over, your Mrs. Burke can 
                         have six babies!

                         Do you mean the speech you're 

                         Yeah, I don't know. I simply can't 
                         get it to jell!  I created somebody 
                         who's gonna give up his life for a 
                         principle, hundreds of thousands 
                         of people are gonna listen to him 
                         over the radio and, unless he says 
                         something that's, well, that's 
                         sensational, it's just no good!

                         Well, honey, of course I don't 
                         know what kind of a speech you're 
                         trying to write, but judging from 
                         the samples I've read, I don't 
                         think anybody'll listen.


                         Darling, there are so many 
                         complaining political speeches.  
                         People are tired of hearing nothing 
                         but doom and despair on the radio. 
                         If you're going to have him say 
                         anything, why don't you let him 
                         say something simple and real, 
                         something with hope in it? If your 
                         father were alive, he'd know what 
                         to say.

                         Oh, yes, Father certainly would.

                         Wait a minute . . .


               MRS. MITCHELL crosses to a desk, finds a key and unlocks a 
               compartment. ANN watches her, curiously.

               CLOSE SHOT: MRS. MITCHELL extracts a diary from the 
               compartment, which she handles very tenderly.

               CAMERA PANS with her as she goes back to ANN.

                         That's your father's diary, Ann.

                         Father's . . . I never knew he had 
                         a diary.

                         There's enough in it for a hundred 
                         speeches, things people ought to 
                         hear nowadays. You be careful of 
                         it, won't you dear?  It's always 
                         helped keep your father alive for 

                              (holds MOTHER's 
                              hand to her cheek)
                         You bet I will, Ma.

               Her mother abruptly leaves.

               CLOSE-UP: ANN turns her attention to the diary. As she 
               opens it, her eyes sparkle expectantly. She becomes 
               interested in the first thing she sees.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INT. CORRIDOR OF HOTEL

               MED. SHOT: At door of JOHN's suite. A crowd of people are 
               around the door trying to crash it. The LUG on guard stands 
               before the door.

                         Wait a minute. John Doe don't wanta 
                         sign no autographs.

                         Well, what does he do all day?

                         What does he do all day?  He's 
                         writin' out his memories!

                                                                CUT TO: 

               INT. LIVING ROOM

               MED. SHOT: BEANY is on the telephone. He is apparently 
               weary from answering them all day.

                         Sorry, lady. you can't see Mr. 
                         Doe. He wants to be alone. No, no, 
                         he just sits around all day and 
                         commutes with himself.

               CAMERA SWINGS around to JOHN. He stands in the middle of 
               the floor, his pitcher's glove on, playing an imaginary 
               game of ball. He winds up and throws an imaginary ball.

               CLOSE-UP: Of the COLONEL. He wears a catcher's mitt—and 
               smacks it as if he just caught the ball.


                         I don't know how you're gonna stand 
                         it around here till after Christmas.

               FULL SHOT: At the door are the two LUGS, watching the 
               imaginary ball game. The COLONEL takes a couple of steps 
               over home plate, and throws the "ball" back to JOHN who 
               picks it up out of the air.

                              (as he steps back 
                              behind the plate)
                         I betcha yuh ain't heard a train 
                         whistle in two weeks.

               He crouches on his knees—and gives JOHN a signal.


                         I know why you're hangin' 
                         around—you're stuck on a girl—that's 
                         all a guy needs is to get hooked 
                         up with a woman.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He shakes his head, and waits for 
               another sign. When he gets it, he nods. He steps onto the 
               mound—winds up and lets another one go. This is apparently 
               a hit, for his eyes shoot skyward, and he quickly 
               turns—watching the progress of the ball as it is flung to 
               first base. From his frown we know the man is safe.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of the two LUGS, ANGELFACE and MIKE. ANGELFACE 
               is seriously absorbed in the game. MIKE leans against the 
               wall, eyes narrowed, a plan going on in his head.

                         What was that? A single?

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN.

                         The first baseman dropped the ball.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANGELFACE.

                              (shouting at 
                              (back to John)
                         That's tough luck, Pal.

               MED. SHOT: JOHN disregards him completely. He is too much 
               absorbed with the man on first. He now has the stance of a 
               pitch without the windup.

                         When a guy has a woman on his 
                         hands—the first thing he knows his 
                         life is balled up with a lot more 
                         things—furniture and—

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He catches the "ball"—gets into 
               position—nods to his catcher—raises his hands in the air, 
               takes a peek toward first base—and suddenly wheels around 
               FACING CAMERA, and whips the "ball" toward first base. 
               Almost immediately his face lights up.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANGELFACE.

                         Did you get him?

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He winks.

                         You're out!

               FULL SHOT: JOHN flips the glove off his hand so that it 
               dangles from his wrist—and massages the ball with his two 

                         That's swell! What's this—the end 
                         of the eighth?


               He steps into the "pitcher's box".

               WIDER SHOT: Just as they take their positions, the LUG, 
               from outside, partly opens the door.

                         Hey, Beany!  There's a coupla lugs 
                         from the Chronicle snooping around 
                         out here!

               BEANY immediately comes from background.

                         Come on, Angelface! Gangway!

               As they reach the door, the LUG speaks to ANGELFACE.

                         What's the score, Angelface?

                         Three to two—our favor.

                         Gee, that's great!

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He has heard this and grins 
               mischievously. He starts winding up for another pitch.

               CLOSE-UP: Of MIKE. He looks around mischievously, then 
               turns to JOHN.

                         You've got swell form. Must have 
                         been a pretty good pitcher.

               WIDER SHOT: JOHN is just receiving the ball.

                         Pretty good?  Say, I was just about 
                         ready for the major leagues when I 
                         chipped a bone in my elbow. I got 
                         it pitchin' a nineteen-inning game!


                         Yep. There was a major league scout 
                         there watching me, too. And he 
                         came down after the game with a 
                         contract. Do you know what?  I 
                         couldn't life my arm to sign it. 
                         But I'll be okay again as soon as 
                         I get it fixed up.

                              (picks up 
                         That's too bad.

                         What do you mean, too bad?

                         Huh? Oh, that you'll never be able 
                         to play again.

                         Well, what are you talking about? 
                         I just told you I was gonna get a—

                         Well, you know how they are in 
                         baseball—if a guy's mixed up in a 

                              (walking over)
                         Racket? What do you mean?

                         Well, I was just thinking about 
                         this John Doe business. Why, as 
                         soon as it comes out it's all a 
                         fake, you'll be washed up in 
                         baseball, won't you?

                         Y-yeah. Gee, doggone it, I never 
                         thought about that. Gosh!

                         And another thing, what about all 
                         the kids in the country, the kids 
                         that idolize ball players? What 
                         are they gonna think about you?
                              (shakes his head)
                         Close shot: Of the COLONEL. He has 
                         dropped his glove—flopped into a 
                         chair—and has taken out his ocarina.

                                     JOHN'S VOICE
                         Hey, did you hear that, Colonel?

               The COLONEL nods, disinterestedly, and begins to play.

               WIDER SHOT: JOHN ponders his dilemma for a second.

                         I gotta figure some way out of 
                         this thing!

                         The elevators are still runnin'.

                         I know one way you can do it.


                         Well, when you get up on the radio, 
                         all you have to do is say the whole 
                         thing's a frame-up. Make you a 
                         hero sure as you're born!

               John thinks this over, but something troubles him.

                         Yeah, but how am I gonna get my 
                         arm fixed?

                         Well, that's a cinch. I know 
                         somebody that'll give you five 
                         thousand dollars just to get up on 
                         the radio and tell the truth.

                              (eyes popping)
                         Five thousand dollars?

                         Yeah. Five thousand dollars. And 
                         he gets it right away. You don't 
                         have to wait till Christmas.

                         Look out, Long John! They're closing 
                         in on you!

                              (ignores COLONEL)
                         Say, who's putting up this dough?

                         Feller runs the Chronicle .
                              (takes it out of 
                              his pocket)
                         Here's the speech you make—and 
                         it's all written out for you.

               JOHN takes it.

               CLOSE-UP: Of the COLONEL.

                              (eyes heaven-ward)
                         Five thousand dollars! Holy 
                         mackerel! I can see the heelots 
                         comin'. The whole army of them!

                         It's on the level.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN.

                                                            DISSOLVE TO:



                                     1ST GIRL
                         No, I'm sorry. Tickets for the 
                         broadcast are all gone. Phone the 

                                     2ND GIRL
                         Sorry. No more tickets left.

               MED. SHOT: Crowd chattering—they recognize JOHN DOE coming 

               CLOSE SHOT: At a side door in broadcasting station. As the 
               COLONEL and MIKE take their places.


               FULL SHOT: JOHN is led by BEANY into the office. They are 
               immediately followed by several photographers.

                         Here he is.

                         Hello, John. All set for the big 
                         night? Swell!

                         Turn around.

                                     2ND PHOTOGRAPHER
                         One moment—hold it! Now stand still, 
                         Mr. Doe.

                         Okay, Beany, take them outside.

               TWO SHOT: JOHN and ANN.

                         Now, look, John. Here's the speech. 
                         It's in caps and double-spaced.  
                         You won't have any trouble reading 
                         it. Not nervous, are you?


                         Of course not. He wouldn't be.


                         John Doe. The one in there.
                              (pointing to speech)

                         Hey, don't let your knees rattle. 
                         It picks up on the mike!

                         Oh, Beany! You needn't be nervous, 
                         John. All you have to remember is 
                         to be sincere.

               WIDER SHOT: Man pokes his head in.

                         Pick up the phone, Miss Mitchell. 
                         It's for you.

                              (takes phone)
                         Hello? Yes, Mother. Oh, thank you, 

               FULL SHOT: While she speaks on the phone, MRS. BREWSTER 
               barges in, accompanied by two other ladies.

                                     MRS. BREWSTER
                         Oh, there he is, the poor, dear 
                         man! Oh, good luck to you, Mr. 
                         Doe. We want you to know that we're 
                         all for you. The girls all decided 
                         that you're not to jump off any 
                         roof a'tall. Oh, we'll stop it!

               ANN completes the phone call—crosses to MRS. BREWSTER.

                         Sorry, ladies. Mr. Doe can't be 
                         bothered now. He's gotta make a 
                         speech out there, and—

               While she gets them out—MIKE slips into the room.

               CLOSE SHOT: MIKE and JOHN.

                         Have you got the speech I gave 

                              (taps breast pocket)

                         Now, look. I'll give this money to 
                         the Colonel just as soon as you 
                         get started. We'll have a car 
                         waiting at the side entrance for 


               FULL SHOT: ANN turns away from the door.

                              (to MIKE)
                         How'd you get in here?

                         Huh? Oh, I just came in to wish 
                         him luck.

                         Come on, out. Out!
                              (turning to John)
                         Mother says good luck, too. John, 
                         when you read that speech, please, 
                         please believe every word of it. 
                         He's turned out to be a wonderful 
                         person, John.


                         John Doe, the one in the speech.

                         Oh. Yeah.

                         You know something? I've actually 
                         fallen in love with him.

               FULL SHOT: They are interrupted by the arrival of CONNELL. 
               He is accompanied by several photographers—and a beautiful 
               girl in a bathing suit. A banner across her front reads: 
               "Miss Average Girl".

                         All right, there he is, sister. 
                         Now, come on—plenty of oomph!

               The GIRL, all smiles, throws her arms around JOHN's 
               shoulder—and strikes a languid pose. The flashlights go 

                         What's the idea?

                         No, no, no. Now that's too much!

                         One moment, please.

                         This is no time for cheap publicity, 
                         Mr. Connell!

                         Listen. If that guy lays an egg. I 
                         want to get something out of it. 
                         I'm getting a Jane Doe ready!

                              (trying to get rid 
                              of them)
                         That's fine, honey. Now, get out!

                         All right. I need one more.

                         Go right ahead.

               While there is this confusion, the COLONEL pushes in and 
               stands in the doorway.

                         How're you doin'?

                              (calls to Beany 
                         All right, Beany—bring 'em in!

               While CONNELL speaks, two MIDGETS push the COLONEL out of 
               the way and enter the room. The COLONEL glances down—and 
               nearly jumps out of his skin. BEANY follows them in.

                         Holy smoke! A half a heelot!

                         There you are, Boss, just like you 
                         ordered. Symbols of the little 

                         Okay. Get them up.

               BEANY lifts them and places them, one on each of JOHN's 
               arms. The flashlights go off.

                         This is ridiculous, Mr. Connell! 
                         Come on, give him a chance. The 
                         man's on the air!

               While she speaks, she tries to shove the photographers 

                                     BOY MIDGET
                              (to girl midget)
                         Come on, Snooks—you better bail 

                                     GIRL MIDGET
                         Goodbye, Mr. Doe!

               BEANY lifts her off—and ANN pushes them all out—just as 
               the STAGE MANAGER reappears.

                                     STAGE MANAGER
                         Better get ready. One minute to 

               TWO SHOT: JOHN and ANN. ANN turns quickly to JOHN.

                         Wow!  One minute to go, and the 
                         score is nothing to nothing! Now, 
                         please, John, you won't let me 
                         down, will you? Will you?  'Course 
                         you won't. If you'll just think of 
                         yourself as the real John Doe.  
                         Listen. Everything in that speech 
                         are things a certain man believed 
                         in. He was my father, John. And 
                         when he talked, people listened. 
                         They'll listen to you, too.
                         Funny—you know what my mother said 
                         the other night? She said to look 
                         into your eyes—that I'd see Father 

                                     STAGE MANAGER
                         Hey—what do you say?

                         Okay! We're coming. Come on!  Now, 
                         listen, John. You're a pitcher. 
                         Now, get in there and pitch!
                              (kisses his cheek)
                         Good luck.

               For a moment he just stares at her, under a spell. Then, 
               turning, he exits. After a second of watching him, ANN 

                                     STUDIO OFFICIAL
                         Give him room, let him through. 
                         Come on.

               Int. broadcasting stage: Med. shot: Camera retreats in 
               front of JOHN and the official, as they leave the office 
               and proceed to the microphones. Everyone stares curiously 
               at JOHN—whispering to each other.

               MED. SHOT: Shooting through glass partition, toward control 
               booth. We SEE the TWO MEN at the board. They glance 
               nervously at their watches—then at the clock on the wall.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of ANN. She has taken a position at a table 
               near the mike. Next to her sits CONNELL. ANN watches JOHN 
               with intense interest.

               The COLONEL has followed JOHN up to the microphone.

                              (to John)
                         Hey. Let's get out o' here. There's 
                         the door right there.

                         Hey, what're you doing here?

                         That's what I'd like to know!

                         Come on, out. Out.

                         Say, he's a friend of mine.

                              (at John's elbow)
                         Never mind. Let him alone. He's 
                         all right. I'll be right over there 
                         pulling for you.

               JOHN starts to follow ANN away from mike. ANN leads him 
               back to mike again.

                         No, John—over here.

                                     2ND M.C.
                         Stand by.

               MED. SHOT: At door. The COLONEL surreptitiously tries the 
               door, to see that it opens readily. Standing near him is 
               BEANY and the others.

               MED. SHOT: Group around SPENCER. They wait expectantly. 
               Their eyes sparkling with excitement.

                         Phone the Chronicle . Tell 'em to 
                         start getting those extras out.

               MED. SHOT: Toward control booth. The man with the earphones 
               on has his hand up ready to give the signal. He listens a 
               moment, then abruptly drops his hand.

               CLOSE-UP: The man near the announcer throws his HAND up as 
               a SIGNAL to someone off scene.

               MED. SHOT: An orchestra in a corner. The conductor waves 
               his baton—and the orchestra blasts out a dramatic fanfare.

               CLOSE SHOT: ANNOUNCER and JOHN. ANNOUNCER holds his script 
               up and the moment the music stops he speaks dramatically.

                         And good evening, ladies and 
                         gentlemen. This is Kenneth Frye, 
                         speaking for the New Bulletin . 
                         Tonight we give you something 
                         entirely new and different. Standing 
                         beside me is the young man who has 
                         declared publicly that on Christmas 
                         Eve he intends to commit suicide, 
                         giving as his reason—quote: "I 
                         protest against the state of 
                         civilization."  End quote. Ladies 
                         and gentlemen, the New Bulletin 
                         takes pleasure in presenting the 
                         man who is fast becoming the most 
                         talked-of person in the whole 
                         country, JOHN DOE!

               The man next to him waves his hand—there is an outburst of 

               A FLASH: Of ANN—she looks at JOHN intently.

               MED. SHOT: Group around BEANY. They all applaud, except 
               for MIKE and the COLONEL. MIKE, with his hand hanging down, 
               nudges the COLONEL.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of their hands meeting and we SEE the envelope 
               change hands. CAMERA PANS up to the COLONEL's face which 
               is twisted into a miserable grimace.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He glances around, uncertainly.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of MIKE and the COLONEL. MIKE elbows the COLONEL 
               to throw his signal. The COLONEL looks toward JOHN and 
               nods his head.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He catches the COLONEL'S signal and 
               quickly his hand goes to his pocket. Just as he is about 
               to bring it out, his hand pauses. He turns and looks at 

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. A warm, pleading look in her eyes.

               MED. SHOT: Around JOHN. He is still staring at ANN, when 
               the ANNOUNCER reaches over and nudges him—pointing to the 
               mike. JOHN snaps out of it—turns his face to the mike—pushes 
               the paper back in his pocket—and starts reading ANN'S 

                              (reading speech)
                         Ladies and gentlemen: I am the man 
                         you all know as John Doe.
                              (clearing his throat)
                         I took that name because it seems 
                         to describe—because it seems to 
                              (his voice unnatural)
                         the average man, and that's me.
                         And that's me.

               MED. SHOT: The COLONEL and MIKE. The COLONEL realizes JOHN 
               is not going to make SPENCER'S speech, and his face breaks 
               into a broad grin. He takes MIKE'S hand and slaps the 
               envelope into his palm. Over the shot we hear JOHN'S voice.

                                     JOHN'S VOICE
                         Well, it was me—before I said I 
                         was gonna jump off the City Hall 
                         roof at midnight on Christmas Eve. 
                         Now, I guess I'm not average any 
                         more. Now, I'm getting all sorts 
                         of attention, from big shots, too.

               MED. SHOT: To include JOHN and ANN.

               MED. SHOT: Around SPENCER, as MIKE enters to him and hands 
               him envelope.

                         We've been double-crossed!

               SPENCER stares at the envelope, frothing at the mouth.

                         We have!?

               MED. SHOT: Featuring JOHN and ANN.

                         The Mayor and the Governor, for 
                         instance. They don't like those 
                         articles I've been writing.

               Suddenly they are startled by SPENCER's voice.

                                     SPENCER'S VOICE
                         You're an imposter, young fella!  
                         That's a pack of lies you're 

               QUICK FLASHES: Of reaction from audience, CONNELL and 

                         Who wrote that speech for you?
                              (pointing accusing 
                              finger at JOHN)

                         Beany, get that guy!

               MED. SHOT: Around SPENCER. It is as far as he gets. Several 
               attendants, BEANY among them, have reached him and start 
               throwing him out.

                                                                CUT TO: 

               INT. D. B. NORTON'S STUDY

               MED. SHOT: D. B. and TED SHELDON are listening to JOHN's 
               speech over the radio. D. B. is astonished at the 
               disturbance in the program.

                                     D. B.
                              (recognizing the 
                         That's Spencer!

                                                                CUT TO: 


               CLOSE SHOT: Of ANNOUNCER.

                         Ladies and gentlemen, the 
                         disturbance you just heard was 
                         caused by someone in the audience 
                         who tried to heckle Mr. Doe. The 
                         speech will continue.

               MED. SHOT: Featuring JOHN and ANN.

                         Well, people like the Governor
                              (laughing—ad libs)
                         People like the Governor and that 
                         fella there can—can stop worrying. 
                         I'm not gonna talk about them.

               ANN smiles admiringly.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He is becoming strangely absorbed in 
               what he is saying.

                         I'm gonna talk about us, the average 
                         guys, the John Does. If anybody 
                         should ask you what the average 
                         John Doe is like, you couldn't 
                         tell him because he's a million 
                         and one things. He's Mr. Big and 
                         Mr. Small. He's simple and he's 
                         wise. He's inherently honest, but 
                         he's got a streak of larceny in 
                         his heart. He seldom walks up to a 
                         public telephone without shoving 
                         his finger into the slot to see if 
                         somebody left a nickel there.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. Her eyes are glued on JOHN.

                                     JOHN'S VOICE
                         He's the man the ads are written 
                         for. He's the fella everybody sells 
                         things to. He's Joe Doakes,[8] the 
                         world's greatest stooge and the 
                         world's greatest strength.
                              (clearing throat)
                         Yes, sir. Yessir, we're a great 
                         family, the John Does. We're the 
                         meek who are, er, supposed to 
                         inherit the earth. You'll find us 
                         everywhere. We raise the crops, we 
                         dig the mines, work the factories, 
                         keep the books, fly the planes and 
                         drive the busses! And when a cop 
                         yells: "Stand back there, you!"  
                         He means us, the John Does!

                                            CUT TO: INT. D. B. 'S STUDY:

               MED. SHOT: D. B. and TED listen near the radio. TED's eyes 
               flash angrily.

                         Well, what kind of a speech is 
                         that? Didn't you read it?

               D. B. stops him with a gesture of his hand. He doesn't 
               want to miss a word.

                                                                 CUT TO:


               MED. SHOT: Toward JOHN.

                         We've existed since time began. We 
                         built the pyramids, we saw Christ 
                         crucified, pulled the oars for 
                         Roman emperors, sailed the boats 
                         for Columbus, retreated from Moscow 
                         with Napoleon and froze with 
                         Washington at Valley Forge!
                         Yes, sir. We've been in there 
                         dodging left hooks since before 
                         history began to walk!  In our 
                         struggle for freedom we've hit the 
                         canvas many a time, but we always 
                         bounced back!

               MED. SHOT—PANNING: Around audience—to get a variety of 
               interested faces.

                                     JOHN'S VOICE
                         Because we're the people —and we're 

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN.

                         They've started a lot of talk about 
                         free people going soft—that we 
                         can't take it. That's a lot of 
                         hooey!  . . . A free people can 
                         beat the world at anything, from 
                         war to tiddle-de-winks, if we all 
                         pull in the same direction!

               MED. SHOT: To include radio announcer and other radio 
               officials. Their interest centers on JOHN.

                         I know a lot of you are saying 
                         "What can I do?  I'm just a little 
                         punk. I don't count."  Well, you're 
                         dead wrong!  The little punks have 
                         always counted because in the long 
                         run the character of a country is 
                         the sum total of the character of 
                         its little punks.

               INT. D. B.'S STUDY 

               MED. SHOT: D. B.'s expression of disturbance has vanished. 
               It is now replaced by one of thoughtfulness and interest. 
               He looks off toward the foyer, and impulsively goes in 
               that direction.

                                                                CUT TO: 

               INT. FOYER

               MED. SHOT: D. B. crosses to a pantry door and pushes the 
               swinging door open slightly.

               INT. PANTRY

               MED. SHOT: All we can SEE through the slightly open door 
               is one side of the room. Clustered around the radio on a 
               table are all the household help. They listen, fascinated.

               INT. FOYER

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. His eyes begin to brighten with an idea. 
               Meantime, over the foregoing shots, JOHN's voice has 

                                     JOHN'S VOICE
                         But we've all got to get in there 
                         and pitch!  We can't win the old 
                         ball game unless we have team work. 
                         And that's where every John Doe 
                         comes in!  It's up to him to get 
                         together with his teammate!

                                                                 CUT TO:


               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN.

                         And your teammates, my friends, is 
                         the guy next door to you. Your 
                         neighbor! He's a terribly important 
                         guy, that guy next door!  You're 
                         gonna need him and he's gonna need 
                         you . . . so look him up!  If he's 
                         sick, call on him! If he's hungry, 
                         feed him!  If he's out of a job, 
                         find him one!  To most of you, 
                         your neighbor is a stranger, a guy 
                         with a barking dog, and a high 
                         fence around him.

               MED. SHOT: Somewhere in audience.

                                     JOHN'S VOICE
                         Now, you can't be a stranger to 
                         any guy that's on your own team.  
                         So tear down the fence that 
                         separates you, tear down the fence 
                         and you'll tear down a lot of hates 
                         and prejudices! Tear down all the 
                         fences in the country and you'll 
                         really have teamwork!

               MED. SHOT: Around BEANY and the LUGS. They, too, are 

                                     JOHN'S VOICE
                         I know a lot of you are saying to 
                         yourselves: "He's asking for a 
                         miracle to happen. He's expecting 
                         people to change all of a sudden."  
                         Well, you're wrong. It's no miracle. 
                         It's no miracle because I see it 
                         happen once every year. And so do 
                         you. At Christmas time!  There's 
                         something swell about the spirit 
                         of Christmas, to see what it does 
                         to people, all kinds of people . . 

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. Her eyes go from JOHN to the audience—as 
               she watches their reaction.

               FULL SHOT: Shooting toward audience over JOHN's shoulder.

                         Now, why can't that spirit, that 
                         same warm Christmas spirit last 
                         the whole year round?  Gosh, if it 
                         ever did, if each and every John 
                         Doe would make that spirit last 
                         three hundred and sixty-five days 
                         out of the year, we'd develop such 
                         a strength, we'd create such a 
                         tidal wave of good will, that no 
                         human force could stand against 

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He has become visibly affected by the 
               speech himself.

                         Yes, sir, my friends, the meek can 
                         only inherit the earth when the 
                         John Does start loving their 
                         neighbors. You'd better start right 
                         now. Don't wait till the game is 
                         called on account of darkness! 
                         Wake up, John Doe! You're the hope 
                         of the world!

               He has finished—but does not move. He drops his head to 
               conceal the moisture in his eyes.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She, too, remains seated. Her moist eyes 
               riveted on JOHN.

               MED. LONG SHOT: Of Audience. There is no outburst of 
               applause. All continue to stare forward, emotionally 

               MED. SHOT: Of ANN. She runs over to John.

                         John! You were wonderful!

               MED. SHOT: Of the audience. They too realize it is over—and 
               gradually they rise and applaud him wildly, and the radio 
               station rings with cheers.

               MED. SHOT: JOHN and ANN. JOHN stares at ANN, then turns to 

                              (as he reaches 
                         Let's get out of here.

               They exit through the door at which the COLONEL has been 
               on guard.

                         Now you're talking!

               MED. SHOT: At side door. The COLONEL opens it, and a little 
               crowd of autograph hounds wait for JOHN.

                         Gangway, you heelots!

               They push their way to a taxi waiting at the curb.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She stares at them leaving, follows and 
               tries to stop them, but her efforts are unsuccessful.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               EXT. UNDER A BRIDGE

               MED. SHOT: JOHN and the COLONEL are in a secluded spot. 
               The lights of the city can be seen in the distance. The 
               COLONEL is building a fire.

                         I knew you'd wake up sooner or 
                         later! Boy, am I glad we got out 
                         of that mess.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He reaches around and pulls his pitcher's 
               glove out of his back pocket, and starts pounding his fist 
               into it.

                         I had that five thousand bucks 
                         sewed up! Could have been on my 
                         way to old Doc Brown!
                              (imitates Ann)
                         "You're a pitcher, John," she said, 
                         "Now go in there and pitch!
                         What a sucker!

               Wider shot: To include the COLONEL, who has quite a mound 
               of twigs built, under which he lights a match.

                         Yeah, she's a heelot just like the 
                         rest of them. It's lucky you got 
                         away from her.

                         What was I doin' up there makin' a 
                         speech, anyway? Me? Huh?  Gee, the 
                         more I think about it the more I 
                         could . . .

                         Tear down all the fences. Why, if 
                         you tore one picket off of your 
                         neighbor's fence he'd sue you!

                         Five thousand bucks!  I had it 
                         right in my hand!

                                                            DISSOLVE TO:

               INT. D.B.'S STUDY

               CLOSE-UP: D.B. on telephone.

                         What do you mean, he ran away? 
                         Well, go after him! Find him! That 
                         man is terrific!

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               EXT. A BOX CAR (PROCESS) 

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN and the COLONEL. They play a duet on 
               their instruments.

                                                               FADE OUT:

               FADE IN:

               EXT. A SMALL TOWN STREET — DAY

               Med. shot: As JOHN and the COLONEL come from around a 
               corner. Camera pans with them as they enter "Dan's Beanery".

               INT. DAN'S BEANERY

               FULL SHOT: They enter and flop down on stools. Half a dozen 
               other customers are present.

               MED. SHOT: Kids dancing to phonograph.

                         Jitterbugs.[9] Close shot: JOHN 
                         and the COLONEL.

                         Yeh. Say, how much money we got 

                         Four bits.

                         Better make it doughnuts, huh?


                         What'll it be, gents?

                         Have you got a coupla steaks about 
                         that big and about that thick?

                         Er, yeh, with hash-brown potatoes 
                         and tomatoes and—and apple pie and 
                         ice cream and coffee—

                         And doughnuts! I know. Hey, Ma! 
                         Sinkers, a pair!

                                     MA'S VOICE
                         Sinkers, a pair, coming up.

                         Glad he took the "T" out of that.

                              (sees something 
                              off—nudges the 
                         Hey look!

               LONG SHOT: Shooting from their view through the store 
               window. In the street outside, a delivery wagon is passing. 
               On its side is a sign reading "JOIN THE JOHN DOE CLUB".

               INT. DAN'S BEANERY

               CLOSE-UP: JOHN and the COLONEL.

                         Join the John Doe Club.

                         John Doe Club?

               CLOSE SHOT: Of the WAITER standing near the coffee urn. 
               From back of it he has taken a local paper—on the front 
               page of which is JOHN's picture. The WAITER looks at it 
               and then turns his head to JOHN.

               TWO SHOT: JOHN and the COLONEL. They turn and see the waiter 
               watching them peculiarly.


               WIDER SHOT. As the WAITER approaches them.

                         Are you John Doe?

               JOHN lowers his head.


                              (pointing to paper)
                         John Doe.

                         You need glasses, buddy.

                         Well, he's the spittin' image of—

                         Yeah, but his name's Willoughby.


                         Long John Willoughby.
                              (takes glove out of 
                         I'm a baseball player.


                              (eyes brightening)
                         Oh, no. I'd know that voice 
                         anywhere. You can't kid me!  You're 
                         John Doe! Hey, Ma! Ma! That's John 

                         John Doe?

                         Yeah. Sitting right there, big as 

                         Who'd you say it was?

                         John Doe! The big guy there! 
                         Picture's in the paper!

               JOHN gives the COLONEL the office and they hastily exit. 
               Several customers, who had gathered around, now evince 
               interest. DAN identifies JOHN as JOHN DOE, and the people 
               follow JOHN out into the street. DAN hastily seizes the 

                         Hey, Operator?  Dan's Beanery. 
                         Look. Call everybody in town. John 
                         Doe was just in my place. Yeh. He 
                         ordered doughnuts.

               LONG SHOT: Shooting out of window toward street. We see 
               JOHN and the COLONEL as they hurry away, being followed by 
               the crowd which is gradually growing larger . . . as we 
               see people crossing the street to get to them—

                         There he is!  John Doe!
                         There he is! Come on!  Gotta see 
                         John Doe!

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               EXT. SIDEWALK 

               MED. SHOT: Millville City Hall. The sidewalk is crowded 
               with people. Those near the entrance are trying to force 
               their way in. MAYOR HAWKINS guards the door.

                                     MAYOR HAWKINS
                         I know, you all voted for me and 
                         you're all anxious to see John 
                         Doe. We're all neighbors, but my 
                         office is packed like a sardine 

                         What does John Doe look like, Mr. 

                                     MAYOR HAWKINS
                         Oh, he's one of those great big 
                         outdoor type of men. No, you can't 
                         see him.

               MAYOR notices one member of the crowd particularly.

                                     MAYOR HAWKINS
                         You didn't vote for me the last 
                         time. Shame on you—get off my front 
                         Mr. Norton come yet?  What's keeping 
                         him? He should of been here fifteen 
                         minutes ago. Oh, there he comes 
                         now. Now, everybody on your dignity. 
                         Don't do anything to disgrace us. 
                         This is a little town, but we gotta 
                         show off.

               WIDER SHOT: Of curb. From off-scene we hear the wail of 
               sirens, and as the crowd on the sidewalk turn they see two 
               motorcycle cops drive in, followed by a limousine.

               TWO SHOT: ANN and D. B.

                         Better let me talk to him.

                                     D. B.
                         All right, but present it to him 
                         as a great cause for the common 

               ANN nods as they start toward building. Camera pans with 
               them as the cops break through the curious mob.

               MED. SHOT: MAYOR HAWKINS endeavors to assist them.

                                     MAYOR HAWKINS
                         Ah, here he comes!  Give him room 
                         down there! Give him room, folks!  
                         How do you do, Mr. Norton! I'm the 

                              (to Mayor)
                         Come back here!

                                     MAYOR HAWKINS
                              (to cop)
                         Let me go, you dern fool! I'm the 
                         Mayor! Mr. Norton! I'm Mayor 
                         Hawkins. Your office telephoned me 
                         to hold him.

               INT. CITY HALL 

               Med. shot: As they walk toward MAYOR'S office.

                                     D. B.
                              (to Mayor Hawkins)
                         Well, that's fine. How is he?

                         Oh, he's fine. He's right in my 
                         office there. You know, this is a 
                         great honor having John Doe here, 
                         and you too. Haven't had so much 
                         excitement since the old city hall 
                         burned down.
                         People were so excited, they nearly 
                         tore his clothes off.
                              (turns to secretary)
                         Oh, Matilda darling, phone the 
                         newspapers. Tell them Mr. Norton 
                         is here. Step right inside, Mr. 
                         Norton—my office is very comfortable 
                         here, Mr. Norton. Just had it air-
                         conditioned. Gangway, please. Make 
                         room for Mr. Norton. Gangway, 
                         gangway. Here he is, Mr. Norton, 
                         well taken care of. The neighbors 
                         are serving him a light lunch.

               INT. MAYOR'S OFFICE

               FULL SHOT: JOHN and the COLONEL are surrounded by a room 
               full of people, including the SHERIFF in full uniform and 
               several policemen. JOHN sits at the MAYOR'S desk, which is 
               filled with edibles. D.B., ANN and the MAYOR enter. JOHN, 
               upon seeing ANN, gets to his feet.

                         Hello, John.


                                     D. B.
                         Mister Mayor, if you don't mind, 
                         we'd like to talk to him alone.

                         Why, certainly, certainly. All 
                         right, everybody, clear out.

               They all start to shuffle out—the MAYOR excitedly egging 
               them on.

                                     MAYOR'S WIFE
                         Quit pushing.

                         Don't argue with me here. Wait 
                         till we get home.

                         Don't you push me around like that!  
                         Even though I'm your wife, you 
                         can't push me around—


               They all shuffle out, and D.B. shuts the door. JOHN watches 
               him, doesn't like his proprietary manner.

                         Look, Mr. Norton, I think you've 
                         got a lot of nerve having those 
                         people hold us here.

                                     D. B.
                         There's nobody holding you here, 
                         Mr. Doe.
                         It's only natural that people—

                         Well, if there's nobody holding us 
                         here, let's get going. Incidentally, 
                         my name isn't Doe. It's Willoughby.

                              (gets in front of 
                         Look, John. Something terribly 
                         important's happened. They're 
                         forming John Doe Clubs. We know of 
                         eight already and they say that 
                         there's going—

                              (interested despite 
                         John Doe Clubs? What for?

                         Uh-huh. To carry out the principles 
                         you talked about in your radio 

                              (regains his former 
                         I don't care what they're forming. 
                         I'm on my way and I don't like the 
                         idea of being stopped either.

                         Oh, but you don't know how big 
                         this thing is. You should see the 
                         thousands of telegrams we've 
                         received and what they're saying 
                         about you.

                         Look, it started as a circulation 
                         stunt, didn't it?

                         Uh-huh . . .

                         Well, you got your circulation. 
                         Now, why don't you let me alone?

                         Oh, it started as a circulation 
                         stunt, but it isn't any more. Mr. 
                         Norton wants to get back of it and 
                         sponsor John Doe Clubs all over 
                         the country. He wants to send you 
                         on a lecture tour.



                                     D. B.
                         Why, certainly. With your ability 
                         to influence people, it might grow 
                         into a glorious movement.

                         Say, let's get something straight 
                         here. I don't want any part of 
                         this thing. If you've got an idea 
                         I'm going around lecturing to 
                         people, why you're crazy! Baseball's 
                         my racket, and I'm sticking to it. 
                         Come on, Colonel, let's get out of 


               The beaming COLONEL starts to follow him to the door. When 
               they get there, the door suddenly flies open and a crowd 
               of townspeople push their way in—with the MAYOR and the 
               SHERIFF trying to hold them back.

                         Please, please! I just got rid of 
                         one crowd.

                         Oh, but please. Mr. Mayor, tell 
                         him the John Doe Club wants to 
                         talk to him.

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. He gets an idea. These people might 
               influence JOHN.

                                     D. B.
                         Let them in, Mr. Mayor. Let them 
                         come in.

               FULL SHOT: As the MAYOR and the SHERIFF back away.

                         Okay, folks, but remember your 
                         manners. No stampeding. Walk slow, 
                         like you do when you come to pay 
                         your taxes.

               MED. SHOT: Of the group. They shuffle forward grinning 
               happily. Those in the rear rise on tiptoes for a better 
               look. The men doff their hats as they come forward.

               MED. SHOT: Of JOHN, the COLONEL, ANN and D.B. John glances 
               around nervously. The COLONEL is worried.

               MED. SHOT: Of the townspeople. They just stand there, 
               awkwardly, some grinning sheepishly, others staring at 
               JOHN. Finally someone nudges a young man in the foreground 
               and whispers.

                         Come on, Bert.

                         Okay. All right, give me a chance.

                              (making room for 
                         Come right in.

               WIDER SHOT: As the group around JOHN wait expectantly.

                              (clearing throat)
                         My name's Bert Hansen, Mr. Doe, 
                         I'm the head soda jerker at 
                         Schwabacher's Drug Store.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of BERT—as he plunges into his story.

                         Well, sir, you see, me and my wife, 
                         we heard your broadcast, and we 
                         got quite a bang out of it, 
                         especially my wife.

               WIDER SHOT: To include JOHN and the others.

                         Kept me up half the night saying 
                         "That man's right, honey. The 
                         trouble with the world is—nobody 
                         gives a hoot about his neighbor. 
                         That's why everybody in town's 
                         sore and cranky at each other."  
                         And I kept saying, "Well, that's 
                         fine, but how's a guy gonna go 
                         around loving the kind of neighbors 
                         we got?  Old Sourpuss for instance!"
                         You see, Sourpuss Smithers is a 
                         guy who lives all alone next door 
                         to us. He's a cranky old man and 
                         runs a second-hand furniture store. 
                         We haven't spoken to him for years. 
                         I always figured he was an ornery 
                         old gent that hated the world cause 
                         he was always slamming his garage 
                         door and playing the radio so loud 
                         he kept half the neighbors up.

               CLOSE-UP: Of BERT.

                         Well, anyway, the next morning I'm 
                         out watering the lawn and I look 
                         over and there's Sourpuss on the 
                         other side of the hedge 
                         straightening out a dent in his 
                         fender and, er, my wife yells to 
                         me out of the window. She says, 
                         "Go on. Speak to him, Bert."  And 
                         I figured, well, heck, I can't 
                         lose anything—so I yelled over to 
                         him "Good morning, Mr. Smithers." 
                         He went right on pounding his 
                         fender, and was I burned! So I 
                         turned around to give my wife a 
                         dirty look and she said, "Louder, 
                         louder. He didn't hear you." So, 
                         in a voice you could of heard in 
                         the next county, I yelled. "Good 
                         morning, Mr. Smithers!"

               MED. SHOT: Featuring JOHN and BERT. JOHN is very interested.

                         Well, sir, you coulda knocked me 
                         over with a feather. Old Sourpuss 
                         turned around surprised like, and 
                         he put on a big smile, came over 
                         and took my hand like an old lodge 
                         brother, and he said. "Good morning, 
                         Hansen. I've been wanting to talk 
                         to you for years, only I thought 
                         you didn't like me."  And then he 
                         started chatting away like a happy 
                         little kid, and he got so excited 
                         his eyes begin waterin' up.

               MED. SHOT: Of a group of neighbors. They smile 

                                     BERT'S VOICE
                         Well, Mr. Doe, before we got 
                         through, I found out Smithers is a 
                         swell egg, only he's pretty deaf, 
                         and that accounts for all the 

               WIDER SHOT: To include BERT, JOHN and others.

                         And he says it's a shame how little 
                         we know about our neighbors, and 
                         then he got an idea, and he said, 
                         "How's about inviting everybody 
                         some place where we can all get 
                         together and know each other a 
                         little better?" Well, I'm feeling 
                         so good by this time, I'm ripe for 

               CLOSE SHOT: Of ANN and D. B. They listen, amused and 

                         So Smithers goes around the 
                         neighborhood inviting everybody to 
                         a meeting at the school house and 
                         I tell everybody that comes in the 
                         store, including Mr. Schwabacher, 
                         my boss.
                         Oh, I'm talking too much.

               MED. SHOT: JOHN and BERT.

                         Well, I'll be doggoned if over 
                         forty people don't show up. 'Course 
                         none of us knew what to do, but we 
                         sure got a kick out of seeing how 
                         glad everybody was just to say 
                         hello to one another.

                                     BERT'S WIFE
                         Tell him about making Sourpuss 
                         chairman, honey.

                         Oh, yeah. We made Sourpuss chairman 
                         and decided to call ourselves The 
                         John Doe Club. And, say, 
                         incidentally, this is my wife. 
                         Come here, honey.

               His WIFE comes forward and stands beside him.

                         This is my wife, Mr. Doe.

               MRS. HANSEN nods her head shyly—and JOHN acknowledges the 
               introduction by a half wave of his hand.

                         How do you do, Mr. Doe . . . Er, 
                         Sourpuss is here, too.

                              (turns around)
                         Oh, is he?


               MED. SHOT: Of a group around SOURPUSS. He is as described, 
               except when he smiles, his whole face warms up. Those around 
               him push him forward. At first he looks bewildered, then, 
               understanding, he starts toward BERT, grinning sheepishly.

               MED. SHOT: Around BERT—as SOURPUSS comes forward.

                         This is Sourpuss. Er, excuse me. 
                         Er, Mr. Smithers, Mr. Doe.

                         Th—that's all right. If you didn't 
                         call me Sourpuss, it wouldn't feel 
                         There are snickers from the 

                         Well, anyway, I—I guess nearly 
                         everybody in the neighborhood came, 
                         except the DeLaneys. The Delaneys 
                         live in a big house with an iron 
                         fence around it and they always 
                         keep their blinds drawn, and we 
                         always figured that he was just an 
                         old miser that sat back counting 
                         his money, so why bother about 
                         inviting him? Until Grimes, the 
                         milkman spoke up and he said, "Say, 
                         you've got the Delaneys all wrong."  
                         And then he tells us about how 
                         they cancelled their milk last 
                         week, and how, when he found a 
                         note in the bottle he got kinda 
                         curious like and he sorta peeked 
                         in under the blinds and found the 
                         house empty. "If you ask me," he 
                         says, "they're starving."

                         Old man Delaney has been bringing 
                         his furniture over to my place at 
                         night, one piece at a time, and 
                         selling it.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. Profoundly impressed by this.

               WIDER SHOT: BERT clears his throat.

                         Yeah. And, well, sir, a half a 
                         dozen of us ran over there to fetch 
                         them and we got them to the meeting. 
                         What a reception they got. Why, 
                         everybody shook hands with them 
                         and made a fuss over them, and, 
                         well, finally, Mr. and Mrs. Delaney 
                         just sat right down and cried.

               He smiles, embarrassed, and JOHN, as well as the others, 
               clear their throats.

                         And then we started to find out 
                         about a lot of other people.

                         Yeah, sure. Er, you know Grubbel, 
                         for instance.

                                     BERT'S WIFE
                         Grubbel's here. See?

                         Yeah. That's—that's him. Of course, 
                         you don't know Grubbel, but he's 
                         the man that everybody figured was 
                         the worst no-account in the 
                         neighborhood because he was living 
                         like a hermit and nobody'd have 
                         anything to do with him. Er, that 
                         is until Murphy, the postman told 
                         us the truth. "Why, Grubbel," he 
                         says, "he lives out of garbage 
                         cans because he won't take charity. 
                         Because it'd ruin his self-respect," 
                         he says.

                                     BERT'S WIFE
                         Just like you said on the radio, 
                         Mr. Doe.

                         Well, sir, about a dozen families 
                         got together and gave Grubbel a 
                         job watering their lawns. Isn't 
                         that wonderful? And then we found 
                         jobs for six other people and 
                         they've all gone off relief!

                         Yeh. Er, and my boss, Mr. 
                         Schwabacker made a job in his 
                         warehouse for old man Delaney—

                         And he gave you that five dollar 

                         Yeah! Wasn't that swell!

               MED. SHOT: Around MAYOR HAWKINS. He steps forward.

                         Why, Bert, I feel slighted. I'd 
                         like to join but nobody asked me.

               MED. SHOT: Around BERT and SOURPUSS.

                         Well, I'm sorry, Mayor, but we 
                         voted that no politicians could 

                                     BERT'S WIFE
                         Just the John Does of the 
                         neighborhood. Cause you know how 
                         politicians are.
                              (becomes embarrassed)
                         Close-up: Of the MAYOR—completely 

                         Yeah . . .

               MED. SHOT: Around JOHN. As they smile, amused at the MAYOR'S 

               MED. SHOT: Around BERT. He looks over at JOHN, hesitates a 
               moment, and then speaks.

                         Well, er, the reason we wanted to 
                         tell you this, Mr. Doe, was to 
                         give you an idea what you started. 
                         And from where I'm sitting, I don't 
                         see any sense in your jumping off 
                         any building.



                         Well, thank you for listening. 
                         Goodbye, Mr. Doe. You're a wonderful 
                         man and it strikes me you can be 
                         mighty useful walking around for a 

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. Deeply touched. Shifts awkwardly, unable 
               to say anything.

               MED. SHOT: As D. B. and ANN watch his face to see the 

                         Well, goodbye.

                         Goodbye Mr. Doe.

               BERT has turned to go, and the rest follow suit. They all 
               shuffle silently out.

               MED. SHOT: Of an old couple who remain looking up at JOHN, 
               as those around them leave. The old lady takes the old 
               man's arm and starts toward JOHN. Camera pans with them 
               until they reach him.

                                     OLD LADY
                         I'm Mrs. Delaney, Mr. Doe . . . 
                         and God bless you, my boy.
                              (she gently kisses 
                              his hand)
                         The two OLD PEOPLE leave.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He swallows a lump in his throat. He 
               watches the old people until they have left, then with a 
               quick glance at his hand—and self-consciously in front of 
               the others, stuffs his hand into his pocket.

               FULL SHOT: As they all watch him, without speaking. JOHN 
               runs his hand through his hair, stealing a fleeting glance 
               at the others, and grins awkwardly.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of D. B. as he signals to the MAYOR and the 
               SHERIFF, who have remained, to leave.

               MED. SHOT: Of the MAYOR and the SHERIFF, who receive the 
               signal and discreetly exit.

               FULL SHOT: They wait for JOHN to speak, but JOHN begins 
               walking around, profoundly thoughtful.

               CLOSE-UP: Of the COLONEL watching him, concerned.

               TWO SHOT: Of D. B. and ANN. Their eyes glued on him, 

               FULL SHOT: JOHN still paces, disturbed by clashing emotions. 
               He stops, glances at the door, a soft, thoughtful expression 
               in his eyes. Then, as his thought shifts, he runs his left 
               hand over his pitching arm.

                         Gee, whiz—I'm all mixed up—I don't 
                         get it. Look, all those swell people 
                         think I'm gonna jump off a building 
                         or something.

               He looks toward the door.

                         I never had any such idea. Gosh!  
                         A fella'd have to be a mighty fine 
                         example himself to go around telling 
                         other people how to—Say, look, 
                         what happened the other night was 
                         on account of Miss Mitchell, here. 
                         She wrote the stuff.

               ANN walks over to JOHN.

               TWO SHOT: ANN and JOHN. She faces him, looking up into his 

                         Don't you see what a wonderful 
                         thing this can be?
                         But we need you , John.

               CLOSE-UP: Of the COLONEL. He stares at JOHN, sees him 
               weakening, and grimaces disgustedly.

               WIDER SHOT: The COLONEL watches JOHN as he continues to 
               turn it over in his mind.

                         You're hooked! I can see that right 

               They all look up, startled.

                         They got you. Well, I'm through.
                              (crosses to 
                              door—stops, turns)
                         For three years I've been trying 
                         to get you up to the Columbia River 
                         country. First, it was your glass 
                         arm. Then it was the radio. And 
                         now it's the John Doe clubs. Well, 
                         I ain't waiting another minute.

               He opens the door and when he sees the townspeople still 
               gathered outside, he yells to them.

                         Gangway, you heelots!

               He pushes his way out.

                         Hey, Colonel! Wait a minute!

               He starts after the COLONEL, but when he gets to the door, 
               the townspeople surge toward him and block his way.

                         Hey, Colonel!

                         Oh, please, Mr. Doe—

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN.

                              (calling futilely)
                         Hey, Colonel!

               He tries to peer over the heads of the townspeople who go 
               on chattering. There is a trapped look on JOHN's face.

               TWO SHOT: D. B. and ANN. They exchange victorious glances:

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 


               CLOSE SHOT: Of large map of the U.S. over the top of which 
               WE READ: "John Doe Clubs." There are a dozen pegs scattered 
               over the map, indicating where the clubs are. We hear D. 
               B.'s voice.

               CAMERA DRAWS BACK and we find D. B. talking to a group of 
               men in front of him.

                                     D. B.
                         I want you personally to go along 
                         with John Doe and Miss Mitchell 
                         and handle the press and the radio.

                              (an experienced 

                                     D. B.
                         Yes. I don't want to take any 
                         chances. And Johnson?

                         Yes. D. B.

                                     D. B.
                         Your crew will do the mop up job. 
                         They'll follow John Doe into every 
                         town, see that the clubs are 
                         properly organized and the charters 


                                     D. B.
                         There are only eight flags up there 
                         now. I want to see that map covered 
                         before we get through!

               MED. SHOT: D. B. is still speaking as CAMERA MOVES DOWN to 
               the MAP again, which constantly remains a background for 
               the montage following. As the montage proceeds, pegs begin 
               to appear in abundance on the map.


               1. FLASHES of banners reading: "JOHN DOE COMING"—"JOHN DOE 

               2. CLOSE-UPS of JOHN speaking—superimposed over long shots 
               of audiences of various types.

               3. FLASHES of ANN typing.

               4. FLASHES of sheets of paper being ripped out of a 

               5. FLASHES of JOHN on the radio—with ANN by his side.

               6. FLASHES of people listening.

               7. FLASHES of people applauding.

               8. SERIES of SIGNS being nailed up: "JOHN DOE CLUB—BE A 
               BETTER NEIGHOR."

               9. SUPERIMPOSED SHOTS of JOHN and ANN riding in trains, 
               planes and automobiles.

               10. Against STOCK SHOTS of these cities, the names zoom up 
               to the fore-ground of Kansas City, Chicago, Buffalo, 
               Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York.

               11. SUPERIMPOSE MAP over the above titles, showing the 
               states they are in being covered with pegs.

               12. A PICTURE of JOHN DOE on front page of Time magazine, 
               with a caption under it reading: "MAN OF THE HOUR."

               13. CONFERENCE ROOM.

                         This has been growing like wildfire! 
                         If they only made demands, but the 
                         John Does ask for nothing!

               14. A man sits at a desk on which is a nameplate reading: 
               "Relief Administrator."

                         People are going off relief!  If 
                         this keeps up, I'll be out of a 

               15. STOCK SHOT—of Capitol Hill.

               16. CORNER OF A CLUB SMOKING ROOM. A group of 
               legislators—some sit—some stand. The room is filled with 

                         As soon as he gets strong enough, 
                         we'll find out what John Doe wants! 
                         Thirty every Thursday—sixty at 
                         sixty—who knows what!

               reports to the boss behind the desk.

                         I'm sorry, boss. they just won't 
                         let anybody talk politics to them. 
                         It's, it's crazy.

               at a desk talks to several in front of him.

                         We've got to get to them! They 
                         represent millions of voters!

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INSERT: Of Map. Nearly every state in the union have pegs 
               in them, varying in volume. Camera pulls back and we find 
               the map is on a stand near a door, the sign on which we 
               see in reverse. It reads: "OFFICE OF JOHN DOE HEADQUARTERS."


               MED. SHOT: D.B. standing behind his desk, speaking to a 
               group of people in front of him. We recognize the MAYOR, 
               and the President of the Chamber of Commerce. 
               Representatives of several other branches of the City 
               Administration are also present. CONNELL sits near D. 
               B.—scrutinizing him thoughtfully. On the other side of D. 
               B. is TED SHELDON.

                                     D. B.
                         I tell you, ladies and gentlemen, 
                         this thing has been nothing short 
                         of a prairie fire. We've received 
                         so many applications for charters 
                         to the John Doe Clubs we haven't 
                         been able to take care of them.

                                     MAYOR LOVETT
                         I'd hate to have that many pins 
                         stuck in me!

               Group laughs.

                                     D. B.
                         This John Doe convention is a 
                         natural. It's gonna put our city 
                         on the map. Why, over twentyfour 
                         hundred John Doe clubs are sending 
                         delegates. Can you imagine that?  
                         You, Mr. Mayor, will be the official 
                         host. You will make the arrangements 
                         for decorating the city, parades 
                         and a reception for John Doe when 
                         he gets home! And—don't wear your 
                         high hat!

                                     MAYOR LOVETT
                         No high hat?

                                     D. B.
                         No high hat. And from you, Connell, 
                         I want a special John Doe edition 
                         every day until the convention is 

                                     (DISMISSING THEM)
                         And now, if you will please just 
                         step into the outer office and 
                         look your prettiest because there 
                         are photographers there to take 
                         pictures of this committee.

               They start to exit. The MAYOR is full of excitement.

                         Don't worry, D. B. Everything'll 
                         be taken care of!

                                     D. B.

                                     COMMITTEE WOMAN
                         Isn't it all too wonderful?

               The group, chattering, exit into outer office.

                                     PHOTOGRAPHER'S VOICE
                              (from the outer 
                         Oh, Mr. Mayor, would you step right 
                         in the front row, please? Will you 
                         ladies get close to him? That's 

               CLOSE-UP: Of CONNELL. To inter-cut with above speech. He 
               has been watching D. B.—deeply disturbed about something.

               WIDER SHOT: All have left except CONNELL, TED, and D.B. 
               CONNELL rises from his chair—with a deep sigh.

                              (shaking his head)
                         Well, I don't get it.

                                     D. B.
                         Huh? Get what?

                         Look, D. B. I'm supposed to know 
                         my way around. This John Doe 
                         movement costs you a fortune. This 
                         convention's gonna cost plenty.

                                     D. B.

                         Well, I'm stuck with two and two—but 
                         I'm a sucker if I can make four 
                         out of it.
                              (cocking his head)
                         Where do you come in?

                                     D. B.

                                     (SUDDENLY SMILES)
                         Why, I'll have the satisfaction of 
                         knowing that my money has been 
                         spent for a worthy cause.

               CLOSE-UP: of CONNELL. He stares at D. B. a moment. He 
               realizes he has been told to mind his own business.

               TWO SHOT: CONNELL picks up his hat.

                         I see. I'd better stick to running 
                         the paper, huh?

                                     D. B.
                         I think maybe you'd better. And 
                         Connell—I'd like to have the John 
                         Doe contract, all the receipts for 
                         the money we have advanced him and 
                         the letter Miss Mitchell wrote, 
                         for which I gave her a thousand 

                         Yes. Sure.

               CONNELL leaves.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 


               FULL SHOT: ANN's luggage is packed and ready to be taken 
               out. She stands near a desk stuffing papers into a 
               manuscript case. She seems lost in worried thought. The 
               door opens as CHARLIE, high pressure exploitation man, 

                         Well, we leave for the airport in 
                         half an hour. Is that Johnny-boy's 
                         room? I'd better hustle him up!

                         He'll be ready on time. He's packing 

                         Ah, good!
                              (crosses to Ann)
                         Did you see his picture on the 
                         cover of Time ?


               CHARLIE drops the magazine on the desk in front of her. 
               ANN glances at it, unenthusiastically. CHARLIE goes to a 
               table where there are several bottles of coca-cola and 
               starts to pour himself a drink.

                         I gotta give you credit, Annie-
                         girl. I've handled a good many big 
                         promotions in my time . . . 
                         everything from the world's fair 
                         to a channel swimmer, but this one 
                         has certainly got me spinning. And 
                         now a John Doe Convention! Wow! 
                         Say! If you could only get him to 
                         jump off the City Hall roof on 
                         Christmas Eve, I'd guarantee you 
                         half a million people there.


               ANN is lost in troubled thought.

                                     CHARLIE'S VOICE

                              (nods toward door)
                         What do you make of him?

               TWO SHOT: CHARLIE and ANN.

                         Who, Johnny-boy?

               ANN nods.

                         Well, I don't know what angle you 
                         want, but I'll give it to you quick. 
                         Number one, he's got great yokel 
                         appeal; but he's a nice guy. Number 
                         two, he's beginning to believe he 
                         really wrote that original suicide 
                         letter that you made up. Number 
                         three, he thinks that you're Joan 
                         of Arc or something!

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. This is definitely troublesome to her.

                         Yeah, I know.

               WIDER SHOT: ANN walks away—pacing perturbedly.

                         Number four, well, you know what 
                         number four is. He's nuts about 
                         you. Yeah, it's running out of his 

               ANN runs her hand through her hair. Suddenly she wheels 
               around to CHARLIE.

                         You left out number five. We're 
                         all heels, me especially.

               She returns to her packing. CHARLIE watches her a second.

                         Holy smoke!

               They are interrupted by a knock on the door.

                         Come in.

               JOHN enters, carrying a suitcase.

                         I'm all packed.

                              (starts out)
                         Good. I'll go and get Beany-boy.

                              (kidding him)
                         Okay, Charlie-boy!


               CHARLIE winks good-naturedly and exits. JOHN turns to ANN, 
               who concentrates on her packing.

               MED. SHOT: He looks at ANN with great interest, and walks 
               toward her, camera panning with him. ANN feels him coming, 
               but does not turn.

                              (after a pause)
                         Can I help you pack?

                         No, thank you.

               JOHN wanders over to a chair and sits on the edge—watching 

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She is conscious of his eyes on her and 
               fumbles with her packing. Finally she turns.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He stares at her, a warm smile on his 

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She becomes self-conscious and resumes 
               her packing.

               MED. SHOT: JOHN.

                         Do you care if I sit down out here?


               A broad smile appears on JOHN'S face.

                         You know, I had a crazy dream last 
                         night. It was about you.

                         About me?

                         Sure was crazy. I dreamt I was 
                         your father.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. The fact that he has seen himself in the 
               image of her father disturbs her. She turns slowly.

               TWO SHOT: JOHN clears his throat nervously.

                         There was, there was something I 
                         was trying to stop you from doing. 
                         So, er, so I got up out of bed and 
                         I walked right through the wall 
                         here, right straight into your 
                         You know how dreams are.

               ANN stares at him—fearful of the trend his dream is taking.

                         And there you were in bed.
                              (quickly apologizing)
                         But you—you were a little girl. 
                         You know—about ten.

               He pauses and recalls the scene.

                         And very pretty, too. So, I shook 
                         you, and the moment you opened 
                         your eyes, you hopped out of bed 
                         and started running like the devil, 
                         in your nightgown.  You ran right 
                         out the window there. And you ran 
                         out over the tops of buildings and 
                         roofs and everything for miles, 
                         and I was chasing you.
                         And all the time you were running 
                         you kept growing bigger and bigger 
                         and bigger—and pretty soon you 
                         were as big as you are now. You 
                         know— grown up. And all the time I 
                         kept asking myself, "What am I 
                         chasing her for?" And I didn't 
                         Isn't that a hot one? Well, anyway, 
                         you ran into some place, and then 
                         Iran in after you and—and when I 
                         got there, there you were getting 

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He suddenly becomes aware he is treading 
               on sensitive grounds.

                         And the nightgown had changed into 
                         a beautiful wedding gown. You sure 
                         looked pretty, too.
                         And then I knew what it was I was 
                         trying to stop you from doing.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She, too, begins to feel uncomfortable—not 
               quite knowing how to handle it.

               TWO SHOT: JOHN glances at her.

                         Dreams are sure crazy, aren't they?

               ANN smiles, noncommittedly.

                         Well, would you like to know who 
                         it was you were marrying?

                              (forced lightness)
                         Well, a tall handsome Ubangi, I 

                         No, not that bad. It was a fella 
                         that sends you flowers every day. 
                         Er, what's his name? Mr. Norton's 

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She recognizes the significance in this.

                         Ted Sheldon.

                         Yeah, that's the one.

               ANN turns back to her packing.

               WIDER SHOT: JOHN starts to chuckle.

                         But here's the funniest part of it 
                         all. I was the fella up there doing 
                         the marrying. You know, the Justice 
                         of the Peace or something . . .

                         You were? I thought you were chasing 

                         Well, yes, I was. But I was your 
                         father then, see?  But the real 
                         me, John Doe, er, that is, Long 
                         John Willoughby, I was the fellow 
                         up there with the book. You know 
                         what I mean?

                         I guess so. Then what happened?

                         Well, I took you across my knee 
                         and I started spanking you.

               ANN turns and stares at him, eyes widening.

                              (quickly explaining)
                         That is, I didn't do it.
                              (correcting himself)
                         I mean, I did do it, but it wasn't 
                         me. You see, I was your father 
                         then. Well, I laid you across my 
                         knee and I said: "Annie, I won't 
                         allow you to marry a man that's, 
                         that's just rich, or that has his 
                         secretary send you flowers. The 
                         man you marry has got to swim rivers 
                         for you!  He's got to climb high 
                         mountains for you! He's got to 
                         slay dragons for you! He's got to 
                         perform wonderful deeds for you! 
                         Yes, sir!"

               BEANY enters and stands back of him, listening.

                         And all the time, er, the guy up 
                         there, you know, with the book, 
                         me, just stood there nodding his 
                         head and he said, "Go to it, Pop, 
                         whack her one for me, because that's 
                         just the way I feel about it, too."

               So he says, "Come on down here and whack her yourself." So 
               I came down and I whacked you a good one, see?  And then 
               he whacked one—and I whacked you another one, and we both 
               started whacking you like . . .

               He demonstrates by slapping his knees, first with one hand 
               and then with the other. Suddenly he becomes aware of BEANY 
               and stops, embarrassed.

                         Well, if you're through whacking 
                         her, come on, let's get going.
                              (to bell boys)
                         Okay, fellows, right in here.
                              (to JOHN)
                         You go out the side entrance. 
                         There's a bunch of autograph seekers 
                         out front. We'll be down with the 
                         bags in a minute. Come on!
                              (speaking to boys)
                         Don't make a government project 
                         out of this!

               The bell boys have lifted her luggage and all exit.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He has been left with his proposal 

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 


               MED. SHOT: Scene opens with BEANY entering airport lunchroom 
               to end of counter at which CHARLIE is seated.

                         How're you, Beany?

                         When does our plane take off again.

                         In a couple of minutes.

               CAMERA MOVES DOWN COUNTER to pick up JOHN and ANN at table. 
               They sit silently for a moment. We hear the strains of 
               music from a "juke" box.

                              (after a pause)
                         How many people do you think we've 
                         talked to already, outside the 
                         radio, I mean?

                         I don't know. About three hundred 

                         Three hundred thousand? What makes 
                         them do it, Ann? What makes them 
                         come and listen and, and get up 
                         their John Doe Clubs the way they 
                         do? I've been trying to figure it 

                              (in an effort to 
                              disillusion him)
                         Look, John—what we're handing them 
                         are platitudes. Things they've 
                         heard a million times: "Love thy 
                         neighbor," "Clouds have silver 
                         linings," "Turn the other cheek." 
                         It's just a—

                         Yeah, I've heard them a million 
                         times, too, but—there you are. 
                         Maybe they're like me. Just 
                         beginning to get an idea what those 
                         things mean.

               ANN is deeply concerned. She watches him, helplessly.

                         You know, I never thought much 
                         about people before. They were 
                         always just somebody to fill up 
                         the bleachers. The only time I 
                         worried about them was if they—is 
                         when they didn't come in to see me 
                         pitch. You know, lately I've been 
                         watching them while I talked to 
                         them. I could see something in 
                         their faces. I could feel that 
                         they were hungry for something. Do 
                         you know what I mean?

               ANN nods.

                         Maybe that's why they came. Maybe 
                         they were just lonely and wanted 
                         somebody to say hello to. I know 
                         how they feel. I've been lonely 
                         and hungry for something practically 
                         all my life.

               ANN forces a smile. The moment threatens to become 
               awkward—until they are saved by the pilot's voice.

                         All aboard, folks!

               They suddenly snap out of their mood—and as they rise:

                                                               FADE OUT:

               FADE IN:

               INT. D. B.'S DINING ROOM

               FULL SHOT: As D. B., ANN and TED SHELDON enter and cross 
               to table. ANN starts to sit and notices a fur coat flung 
               over the back of the chair.

                         Oh, somebody else sitting there?

                                     D. B.
                         No, no, no—that's your seat.

                         And this is your coat.


                                     D. B.
                         A little token of appreciation.

               Ann pauses a moment, glances toward D. B.—while TED throws 
               the coat over her shoulders.

                              (glances into a 
                         Oh! Oh, it's beautiful, D. B. Well—I 
                         don't quite know what to say . . .

                                     D. B.
                         Well, don't say anything at all. 
                         Just sit down.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She sits down, picks up her serviette—and 
               something she sees suddenly makes her look with surprise 
               at D. B.

               Camera pans down to a jewel box which had been under the 

               CAMERA PANS back to ANN. She glances up at D. B. somewhat 


                                     D. B.
                         Go ahead, open it, open it.

               ANN opens the box and holds up a lovely diamond bracelet. 
               Her eyes dance.

                         Oh! Oh, it's lovely!

                         And a new contract goes with it.

               WIDER SHOT: D. B. and TED exchange satisfied glances. ANN 
               admires the bracelet on her wrist—and then turns to D. B., 
               looks directly at him.

                         Well, come on, spring it! You've 
                         got something on your mind.

               D. B. laughs.

                         Must be stupendous.

               WIDER SHOT: As D. B. roars with laughter.

                                     D. B.
                         You know, that's what I like about 
                         her. Right to the point, like that! 
                         All right, practical Annie, here 
                         it is.

               He leans forward. ANN waits. TED watches her face.

               TWO SHOT: ANN and D. B.

                                     D. B.
                         Tomorrow night, before a crowd of 
                         fifteen thousand people, and talking 
                         over a nation-wide radio hook-up, 
                         John Doe will announce the formation 
                         of a third party.

                              (eyes widening)
                         A third party?

                                     D. B.
                         Yes. The John Doe Party.

               WIDER SHOT: TED watches ANN, expectantly.

                                     D. B.
                         Devoted entirely to the interests 
                         of all the John Does all over the 
                         country. Which practically means, 
                         ninety per cent of the voters. He 
                         will also announce the third party's 
                         candidate for the presidency. A 
                         man whom he, personally, recommends. 
                         A great humanitarian; the best 
                         friend the John Does have.

                              (in an awed whisper)
                         Mr. D. B. Norton!

               D. B. verifies her guess by leaning back, a pleased grin 
               on his face, his huge chest expanded.

                                     D. B.

               Ann looks from one to the other, a little awed by the size 
               of the project.

                              (on her breath)

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 


               MED. SHOT: The place is a bee-hive of activity. Announcers 
               walk about with "mikes" in their hands—all speaking at 
               once—as they describe the scene below.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of N.B.C. ANNOUNCER

                                     N.B.C. ANNOUNCER
                         And although the opening of the 
                         convention is hours off, the 
                         delegates are already pouring into 
                         the ball park by the droves, with 
                         lunch baskets, banners and 
                         petitions, asking John Doe not to 
                         jump off any roof . . .

               CAMERA PANS over to KNOX MANNING.

                                     KNOX MANNING
                         It is still a phenomenal movement. 
                         The John Does, or the hoi polloi 
                         as you've heard people call them, 
                         have been laughed at and ridiculed 
                         but here they are, gay and happy, 
                         having traveled thousands of miles, 
                         their expenses paid by their 
                         neighbors, to come here to pay 
                         homage to their hero, John Doe.

               CAMERA PANS over to JOHN B. HUGHES.

                                     JOHN B. HUGHES
                         And in these days of wars and 
                         bombings, it's a hopeful sign that 
                         a simple idea like this can sweep 
                         the country, an idea based on 
                         friendliness, on giving and not 
                         taking, on helping your neighbor 
                         and asking nothing in return. And 
                         if a thing like this can happen, 
                         don't let any of our grumbling 
                         friends tell you that humanity is 
                         falling apart. This is John B. 
                         Hughes, signing off now and 
                         returning you to our main studio 
                         until nine o'clock when the 
                         convention will officially open.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INT. ANN'S LIVING ROOM

               MED. SHOT: At Door. ANN's MOTHER opens it and JOHN stands 
               on the threshold. He has a small box of flowers in his 
               hand. Water drips from his hat.

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         Oh, John. Come in.



                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         That's all right.

               WIDER SHOT: MRS. MITCHELL lays his hat down somewhere. 
               John takes a few steps inside the room, not quite knowing 
               what to do.

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                              (turning to him)
                         It's good to see you. Sit down.


               He sits on the edge of a sofa, still clinging to the little 
               box. Then holds box out awkwardly.

                         It's for Ann . . .

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                              (taking the box)
                         Oh, how nice! Thank you very much.


                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         I'm terribly sorry she isn't here.

                         She isn't?

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         No, she just left. I'm surprised 
                         you didn't run into her. She went 
                         over to Mr. Norton's house.


                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         Did you want to see her about 
                         something important?

                         Yeah. I, uh, well . . . No. It'll 
                         Say, he's a nice man, isn't he? 
                         Mr. Norton, I mean. He's, er, he's 
                         done an awful lot for the—

               CLOSE-UP: Of MRS. MITCHELL. She watches him, amused.

                         Say, my coat's pretty wet. I'm 
                         afraid I might have wet the couch 
                         a little.

               WIDER SHOT: JOHN is still struggling to find conversation.

                         Well, I guess I'll see her at the 
                         convention later.

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         Yes, of course. I'll see that she 
                         gets the flowers.

               He rises and looks around for hat on the floor and back of 
               the chair.

                         Thanks. Good night, Mrs. Mitchell.

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                              (finds his hat and 
                              gives it to him)
                         Good night, John.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He starts away and suddenly stops, 
               speculatively. He glances out of the corner of his eye 
               toward MRS. MITCHELL.

                              (going back to her)
                         Say, Mrs. Mitchell, I, er, I'm 
                         kinda glad Ann isn't here. You 
                         see, I was, I came over here hoping 
                         to see her alone and kinda hoping 
                         I wouldn't, too. You know what I 
                         mean?  There was something I wanted 
                         to talk to her about. But, well, 
                         I—It'll wait, I guess. Good night.

               CLOSE-UP: Of MRS. MITCHELL. She begins to sense what is on 
               his mind, and her face becomes serious.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He smiles helplessly. Starts toward 

                                     MRS. MITCHELL'S VOICE
                         Good night, John.

               TWO SHOT: JOHN and MRS. MITCHELL. He stares at her a second.

                         Say, look, Mrs. Mitchell, have you 
                         ever been married?
                              (catches himself)
                         Oh, sure you have.
                              (grins sheepishly)
                         Gosh! That's pretty silly! I guess 
                         you must think I'm kinda batty!

               JOHN shakes his head at his own stupidity.

                              (can't get over it)
                         Well, I guess I'd better be going 
                         at that!

               He bows again, and starts for the door. When he gets there, 
               he is stopped by MRS. MITCHELL's voice.

                                     MRS. MITCHELL'S VOICE
                         John. My husband said: "I love 
                         you. Will you marry me?"

                         He did? What happened?

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         I married him.

               JOHN comes right back to her.

               TWO SHOT: JOHN and MRS. MITCHELL.

                              (full of excitement)
                         Oh, yeah. That's what I mean. See? 
                         It was easy as all that, huh?

                                     MRS. MITCHELL

                         Yeah, yeah, but look, Mrs. Mitchell, 
                         you know I love Ann and it's gonna 
                         be awfully hard for me to say it 
                         because, well, you know, she's so 
                         wonderful, and, well, the best I 
                         ever was was a bush-league pitcher.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN.

                         And you know, I think she's in 
                         love with another man, the one she 
                         made up. You know, the real John 
                         Doe. Well, that's pretty tough 

               TWO SHOT: JOHN and MRS. MITCHELL. She is terribly fond of 
               JOHN and deeply sympathetic.

                         I bet you he'd know how to say it 
                         all right. And me, I get up to it 
                         and around it and in back of it, 
                         but, but I never get right to it. 
                         Do you know what I mean? So the 
                         only chance I've got is, well, if 
                         somebody could kinda give her a 
                         warning sort of, sorta prepare her 
                         for the shock!

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         You mean you'd like me to do it, 

                         Well, I was thinking that—Yeah, 
                         you know, sort of break the ice.

               CLOSE-UP: Of MOTHER. She doesn't know how she can, with 
               her present strained relationship with ANN, but JOHN's 
               sincerity touches her.

                         Of course I will, John.

               TWO SHOT: JOHN's face lights up, gratefully.

                         Gee whiz! Thank you, Mrs. Mitchell.
                              (grabs her hand)
                         Gee, you're—uh—you're okay!

               He exits from scene—but almost immediately he is back. He 
               plants a kiss on her cheek and goes.

                                                                CUT TO: 


               MED. SHOT: An automobile stands at the curb, in front of 
               which is BEANY. Also waiting, are four motorcycle policeman.

                              (to the other men)
                         This John Doe meeting is gonna be 
                         one of the biggest things that 
                         ever happened.

               As JOHN appears in the doorway of the apartment house, he 
               pretends to throw a baseball at them.

                         Why, they're coming from all over; 
                         trains, box cars, wagons—

                                     (SEES JOHN)
                         look out!

               MED. SHOT: Reverse angle. As BEANY holds the door open for 

                         Hello, bodyguards! Hey, had your 
                         dinner yet?

                         Not yet.

                         Well, look. No. Go ahead and have 
                         your dinner. I'll—

               He is about to enter the car when a voice from off-scene 
               stops him.

                                     CONNELL'S VOICE
                         Wait a minute, John.

               CAMERA PANS over to a taxicab which has just driven in. 
               CONNELL hands the driver a bill and walks, rather unsteadily 
               toward JOHN.

               MED. SHOT: Around BEANY's car. CONNELL ambles into the 

                         Hello, Mr. Connell.

                         Hiyah, John.
                              (broad wink)
                         John, I want to have a little talk 
                         with you.
                              (lurches—John holds 
                              him up)
                         What's the matter—are you falling? 
                         Come here.

               Takes his arm to lead him off.

                         Hey, Boss.

                         Oh, quiet, quiet, quiet.
                              (to John)
                         Say, tell me something did you 
                         read that speech you're gonna make 

                         No, I never read the speeches before 
                         I make them. I get more of a kick 
                         out of it that way.

                         Uh-huh. That's exactly what I 
                         thought. Beany, go on down to the 
                         office, tell Pop to give you the 
                         speech. There's a copy on my desk.

                         Gee whiz, Boss, you know Mr. Norton 
                         told me not to leave him, not even 
                         for a minute.

                              (shooing him away)
                         Go on, go on, go on. And we'll be 
                         at Jim's Bar up the street.

               He points in the general direction and again takes JOHN's 
               arm. JOHN watches him, rather amused to see CONNELL off 
               his milk diet, and allows himself to be led away.

                                                               WIPE TO: 

               INT. A BARROOM

               CLOSE SHOT: In a corner booth, JOHN and CONNELL sit, close 
               together, drinks in front of them. JOHN's drink has remained 
               untouched. CONNELL is just taking a long swig. From off-
               scene we HEAR the strains of an old-fashioned torch ballad, 
               coming from an automatic piano.

                              (after a pause)
                         You're a nice guy, John. I like 
                         you. You're gentle. I like gentle 
                         people. Me? I'm hard—hard and tough.
                              (shakes his 
                         I got no use for hard people. Gotta 
                         be gentle to suit me. Like you, 
                         for instance.

               JOHN smiles, amused at him. CONNELL starts to light his 
               cigarette, which is bent. He hold the match up, but it 
               never reaches the tip of the bent cigarette. He puffs, 

                         Yep, I'm hard. But you want to 
                         know something? I've got a weakness. 
                         You'd never guess that, would you? 
                         Well, I have. Want to know what it 

               JOHN nods.

                         The Star Spangled Banner.
                              (looks directly at 
                         Screwy, huh?
                              (turns back to his 
                         Well, maybe it is. But play the 
                         "Star Spangled Banner"—and I'm a 
                         sucker for it. It always gets me 
                         right here—
                              (thumps his diaphragm)
                         You know what I mean?

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His face has become serious.

                              (points to back of 
                         It gets me right back here.

               TWO SHOT: JOHN and CONNELL. CONNELL speculates about this 
               with his head cocked.

                         Oh, back there, huh?
                              (shrugs, dismissing 
                         Well, every man to his own taste.

               JOHN smiles at him. CONNELL tries lighting his bent 
               cigarette again—with the same result—while JOHN watches, 

                         You weren't old enough for the 
                         first world war, were you?

               JOHN starts to answer, but CONNELL goes right on.

                         Course not. Must have been a kid.

               He pours JOHN's drink into his own glass.

                         I was. I was just ripe. And rarin' 
                         to go.
                              (takes drink)
                         Know what my old man did when I 
                         joined up? He joined up too.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He finds himself intensely interested.

                                     CONNELL'S VOICE
                         Got to be a sergeant.

               TWO SHOT: JOHN and CONNELL.

                              (as he raises his 
                         That's a kick for you. We were in 
                         the same outfit. Funny, huh?

               CLOSE-UP: Of CONNELL. He lifts his glass to his lips, and 
               without drinking, lowers it.

                              (voice lowers)
                         He was killed, John.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His face enveloped in an expression of 

               TWO SHOT: CONNELL stares down at the glass which he revolves 
               between his palms.

                         I saw him get it. I was right there 
                         and saw it with my own eyes.

               Without glancing at JOHN, he lifts the glass and drains 

                              (turns to JOHN)
                         Me? I came out of it without a 
                         scratch. Except for my ulcers. 
                         Should be drinking milk.
                              (picks up his glass)
                         This stuff's poison.

               As he holds up his glass, he realizes it is empty.

                              (yelling to bartender)
                         Hey, Tubby!

                                     BARTENDER'S VOICE
                         Yes, Mr. Connell?

                              (indicates the empty 
                         Whadda you say?

                         All right.

               CLOSE SHOT: JOHN and CONNELL. CONNELL looks around 
               guardedly, to make certain he is not overhead.

                         Yessir. I'm a sucker for this 
                              (gets a little sore 
                              about it)
                         I'm a sucker for the Star Spangled 
                         Banner—and I'm a sucker for this 
                              (taps table with 
                              his middle finger)
                         I like what we got here! I like 
                              (emphasizes each 
                         A guy can say what he wants—and do 
                         what he wants—without having a 
                         bayonet shoved through his belly.

               MED. SHOT: As he leans back and nods his head, satisfied 
               he made his point.

                         Now, that's all right, isn't it?

                         You betcha.

               The BARTENDER comes in with drink and departs.

                         All right. And we don't want anybody 
                         coming around changing it, do we?

               JOHN shakes his head.

                         No, sir.

               TWO SHOT: JOHN and CONNELL.

                         No, sir. And when they do I get 
                         mad! I get b-boiling mad. And right 
                         now, John, I'm sizzling!

               JOHN looks at him, puzzled.

                         I get mad for a lot of other guys 
                         besides myself—I get mad for a guy 
                         named Washington! And a guy named 
                         Jefferson—and Lincoln. Lighthouses, 
                         John! Lighthouses in a foggy world! 
                         You know what I mean?

                         Yeah, you bet!

               CONNELL takes a drink and looks at JOHN a moment before he 

                              (leans on the table)
                         Listen, pal—this fifth column 
                         stuff's pretty rotten, isn't it?[11]

                         Yeah. It certainly is.

                         And you'd feel like an awful sucker 
                         if you found yourself marching 
                         right in the middle of it, wouldn't 

               JOHN glances up sharply.

                         And you, of course you wouldn't 
                         know it because you're gentle. But 
                         that's what you're doing. You're 
                         mixed up with a skunk, my boy, a 
                         no-good, dangerous skunk!

               JOHN'S resentment vanishes—and is replaced by puzzlement.

                         Say, you're not talking about Mr. 
                         Norton, are you?

               TWO SHOT: JOHN and CONNELL.

                         I'm not talking about his 
                         grandfather's pet poodle!

               CONNELL again makes an effort to light his bent 
               cigarette—and again is unsuccessful.

                         You must be wrong, Mr. Connell, 
                         'cause he's been marvelous about 
                         the John Doe Clubs.

                         Say, you're sold on the John Doe 
                         idea, aren't you?


                         Sure. I don't blame you. So am I.

               CLOSE-UP: Of CONNELL.

                         It's a beautiful miracle. A miracle 
                         that could only happen right here 
                         in the good old U.S.A. And I think 
                         it's terrific! What do you think 
                         of that! Me! Hard-boiled Connell! 
                         I think it's plenty terrific!

               TWO SHOT: John is rather pleased to hear him say this.

                         All right! Now, supposing a certain 
                         unmentionable worm, whose initials 
                         are D. B., was trying to use that 
                         to shove his way into the White 
                         House. So he could put the screws 
                         on, so he could turn out the lights 
                         in those lighthouses. What would 
                         you say about that? Huh?

                         Nobody's gonna do that, Mr. Connell. 
                         They can't use the John Doe Clubs 
                         for politics. That's the main idea.

                         Is that so? Then what's a big 
                         political boss like Hammett doing 
                         in town? And a labor leader like 
                         Bennett? And a lot of other big 
                         shots who are up at D. B.'s house 
                         right now? Wolves, John, wolves 
                         waiting to cut up the John Does!
                         Wait till you get a gander at that 
                         speech you're gonna make tonight!

                         You're all wet. Miss Mitchell writes 
                         those speeches and nobody can make 
                         her write that kind of stuff.

                         They can't, huh?
                              (then barking)
                         Who do you think writes 'em? My 
                         Aunt Emma? I know she writes them.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His jaw stiffens, angrily.

                                     CONNELL'S VOICE
                         And get a big bonus for doing them, 
                         too. A mink coat and a diamond 

               JOHN glares at him, his rage mounting.

               CLOSE-UP: Of CONNELL. Unaware of JOHN's wrath.

                         Don't write 'em? Why, that gold-
                         grabbin' dame would double-cross 
                         her own mother for a handful of 
                         Chinese yen!

                              (in an outraged 
                         Shut up! If you weren't drunk I'd—

               Simultaneously his hand comes in and grabs the startled 
               CONNELL violently by his shirt front, lifting him out of 
               his seat. CAMERA PULLS BACK to include JOHN—who towers 
               over CONNELL.

               WIDER SHOT: JOHN is still holding CONNELL, glaring down at 
               him, enraged, when BEANY runs into the scene.

                              (holding out the 
                         Hey, Boss! Here's the speech, Boss.

               Suddenly he sees what's happening, and stares open-mouthed.


               MED. SHOT: As JOHN pushes CONNELL back into the seat, 
               snatches the envelope from BEANY, and exits.

                         Go on and read it, John, and then 
                         start socking!

               WIDER SHOT: As JOHN exits from place. BEANY suddenly 
               realizes he has gone—and chases after him.

                         Hey, wait a minute, Mr. Doe!

                         . . . Tubby?

                                     BEANY'S VOICE
                         Yes, sir?

                         Better bring me a glass of milk.

               CLOSE-UP: Of CONNELL. He stares at his unlighted 
               cigarette—grimaces unhappily.

                         I'm smoking too much.

               He grinds out the unlighted cigarette in the tray.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INT. D. B.'S DINING ROOM

               CLOSE SHOT: Of D. B., who is at head of table, talking on 

                                     D. B.
                              (into telephone)
                         . . . Yes, Charlie? You've got 
                         everything all set? Fine! Has John 
                         Doe been taken care of? Good! How 
                         many people do you think will be 

               A pleased expression comes over his face.

                                     D. B.
                         Fifteen thousand? Oh my, that's 
                         fine. Now, listen, Charlie, as 
                         soon as John Doe stops talking 
                         about me, I want you to start that 
                         demonstration. And make it a big 
                         one, you understand?

               As D. B. hangs up.

               WIDER SHOT: Including TED SHELDON.

                         Don't worry about that, D. B. My 
                         boys are there. They'll take care 
                         of it.

                                     D. B.
                              (into telephone)
                         What? yes, I'll be there fifteen 
                         minutes after I get your call.

               CAMERA DRAWS BACK as he speaks. We see that dinner has 
               been concluded. His listeners, besides TED and ANN, are 
               half a dozen distinguished looking men, some with cigars 
               stuck in their mouths, others sip from champagne glasses. 
               ANN sits to D. B.'s right.

                                                                CUT TO: 

               INT. FOYER

               MED SHOT: At D. B.'s front door. A butler is opening the 
               door for JOHN.

                         Why, Mr. Doe . . .

                         Where are they?

                         In the dining room, sir.

               JOHN strides toward the dining room. Camera pans with JOHN, 
               who is dripping wet, as he crosses the foyer until he comes 
               within sight of the open door of the dining room. JOHN 

                                                           CUT BACK TO: 

               INT. D. B.'S DINING ROOM

               WIDER SHOT: D. B. addressing the group at the table.

                                     D. B.
                         Well, gentlemen, I think we're 
                         about ready to throw that great 
                         big bombshell—

                                     SOMEONE'S VOICE
                         Yeah, well it's about time.

                                     D. B.
                         Even a conservative estimate shows 
                         that we can count on anywhere 
                         between ten and twenty million 
                         John Doe votes. Now, add to that 
                         the labor vote that Mr. Bennett 
                         will throw in . . .

               He indicates BENNETT who nods, importantly.

                                     D. B.
                         and the votes controlled by Mr. 
                         Hammett and the rest of you 
                         gentlemen in your territories—
                         and nothing can stop us!

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She seems distressed. She apparently has 
               been listening to things that have caused her considerable 

               WIDER SHOT: WESTON leans forward and speaks to D. B.

                         As I said before, I'm with 
                         you—providing you can guarantee 
                         the John Doe vote.

                                     D. B.
                         Don't worry about that.

                         You can count on me under one 
                         condition. Little Bennett's gotta 
                         be taken care of!

                                     D. B.
                         Didn't I tell you that everybody 
                         in this room would be taken care? 
                         My agreement with you gentlemen 

                         I'm with you, D. B., but I still 
                         think it's a very daring thing 
                         we're attempting!

                                     D. B.
                         These are daring times, Mr. 
                         Barrington. We're coming to a new 
                         order of things. There's been too 
                         much talk going on in this country.

                                     SOMEONE'S VOICE

               ANN glances up at D. B., a startled look in her eyes.

               CLOSE SHOT: D. B.'s audience beams with satisfaction as he 

                                     D. B.
                         Too many concessions have been 
                         made! What the American people 
                         need is an iron hand!

                         You're right!

                         That's true. You're quite right, 
                         D. B.!

                                     D. B.

                         Quite right! Exactly!

               There are cries of: "Hear, hear!" and applause.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She is completely seized by panic—and 
               although she attempts applauding, it is feeble.

               MED. SHOT: Shooting through open door toward dining room. 
               Prominently in view is ANN, still lost in troubled thought. 
               D. B. is still on his feet.

                                     D. B.
                         And now—
                              (lifting champagne 
                         may I offer a little toast to Miss 
                         Ann Mitchell—the brilliant and 
                         beautiful lady who is responsible 
                         for all this!

               The men rise.

                         Miss Mitchell! Miss Mitchell!

                         Mr. Norton, I'd like to talk to 
                         you alone for a moment.

                                     D. B.
                         Oh, oh.

                         Miss Mitchell has something to say 
                         to us.

                         Well, that's fine. Speech! Speech!

               Ann spots John.

                                     D. B.
                              (spotting John)

                         John! I'm so glad to see you. I—I 
                         was terribly worried.

                              (showing her a copy 
                              of the speech)
                         Did you write this?

                         Yes, I did, John. But I—I had no 
                         idea what was going on.

                         You didn't?

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His mouths screws up bitterly.

                              (quiet contempt)
                         That's a swell bracelet you're 

               He leaves her, abruptly.

               INT. DINING ROOM

               FULL SHOT: JOHN enters and looks the men over appraisingly 
               as he goes toward D. B. They all stare at him.

                                     D. B.
                         Why aren't you at the convention?

               JOHN doesn't answer.

                                     D. B.
                         Is there anything wrong?

                              (after a pause)
                         Oh, no. Nothing's wrong. 
                         Everything's fine!  So there's 
                         gonna be a new order of things, 
                         huh? Everybody's gonna cut himself 
                         a nice, fat slice of the John Does, 
                              (turns toward D. B.)
                         You forgot one detail, Mr. Big 
                         Shot—you forgot me, the prize stooge 
                         of the world. Why, if you or anybody 
                         else thinks he's gonna use the 
                         John Doe clubs for his own rotten 
                         purpose, he's gonna have to do it 
                         over my dead body!

                                     D. B.
                         Now, hold on a minute, young man! 
                         Hold on! That's rather big talk! I 
                         started the John Doe clubs with my 
                         money and I'll decide whether or 
                         not they're being properly used!

                         No you won't! You're through 
                         deciding anything!

               D. B. cannot believe his ears.

                         And what's more, I'm going down to 
                         that convention and I'm gonna tell 
                         those people exactly what you and 
                         all your fine-feathered friends 
                         here are trying to cook up for 

               He looks up at ANN—and starts tearing the speech in his 

                         And I'll say it in my own words 
                         this time.

               He flings the torn paper toward ANN—and starts out.

                                     HAMMETT AND OTHERS
                         Stop him, somebody! He'll ruin us, 
                         D. B.!

               MED. SHOT: At Door. As JOHN reaches it, TED steps up in 
               front of him.

                         Wait a minute, young feller—my 
                         uncle wants to talk to you.

               D. B. walks up to JOHN.

                                     D. B.
                         Listen to me, my son! Before you 
                         lose your head completely, may I 
                         remind you that I picked you up 
                         out of the gutter and I can throw 
                         you right back there again! You've 
                         got a nerve accusing people of 
                         things! These gentlemen and I know 
                         what's the best for the John Does 
                         of America, regardless of what 
                         tramps like you think!  Get off 
                         that righteous horse of yours and 
                         come to your senses. You're the 
                         fake! We believe in what we're 
                         doing! You're the one that was 
                         paid the thirty pieces of silver! 
                         Have you forgotten that? Well, I 
                         haven't!  You're a fake, John Doe, 
                         and I can prove it! You're the big 
                         hero that's supposed to jump off 
                         tall buildings and things! Do you 
                         remember? What do you suppose your 
                         precious John Does will say when 
                         they find out that you never had 
                         any intention of doing it? That 
                         you were being paid to say so? 
                         You're lucky if they don't run you 
                         out of the country!  Why, with the 
                         newspapers and the radio stations 
                         that these gentlemen control, we 
                         can kill the John Doe movement 
                         deader than a doornail, and we'll 
                         do it, too, the moment you step 
                         out of line!  Now, if you still 
                         want to go to that convention and 
                         shoot your trap off, you go ahead 
                         and do it!

               FULL SHOT: D. B. leaves JOHN and returns to his chair. 
               JOHN stares at him, unbelievingly.

               CLOSE SHOT: of JOHN.

                              (after a pause)
                         Do you mean to tell me you'd try 
                         to kill the John Doe movement if 
                         you can't use it to get what you 

                                     D. B.'S VOICE
                         You bet your bottom dollar we would!

                         Well, that certainly is a new low. 
                         I guess I've seen everything now.

               WIDER SHOT: As JOHN's lips curl up contemptuously and he 
               steps up to the table.

                              (throwing his hat 
                              on the table)
                         You sit there back of your big 
                         cigars and think of deliberately 
                         killing an idea that's made millions 
                         of people a little bit happier! An 
                         idea that's brought thousands of 
                         them here from all over the country, 
                         by bus and by freight, in jallopies 
                         and on foot—so they could pass on 
                         to each other their own simple 
                         little experiences.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. Her eyes light up happily.

                                     JOHN'S VOICE
                         Why, look, I'm just a mug and I 
                         know it. But I'm beginning to 
                         understand a lot of things. Why, 
                         your type's old as history. If you 
                         can't lay your dirty fingers on a 
                         decent idea and twist it and squeeze 
                         it and stuff it into your own 
                         pocket, you slap it down! Like 
                         dogs, if you can't eat something, 
                         you bury it!

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His voice is pleading.

                         Why, this is the one worthwhile 
                         thing that's come along. People 
                         are finally finding out that the 
                         guy next door isn't a bad egg. 
                         That's simple, isn't it?  And yet 
                         a thing like that's got a chance 
                         of spreading till it touches every 
                         last doggone human being in the 
                         world—and you talk about killing 

               FULL SHOT: They listen to him—unmoved.

                         Why, when this fire dies down, 
                         what's going to be left?  More 
                         misery, more hunger and more hate. 
                         And what's to prevent that from 
                         starting all over again?  Nobody 
                         knows the answer to that one, and 
                         certainly not you, with those slimy, 
                         bolloxed-up theories you've got! 
                         The John Doe idea may be the answer, 
                         though! It may be the one thing 
                         capable of saving this cockeyed 
                         world! Yet you sit back there on 
                         your fat hulks and tell me you'll 
                         kill it if you can't use it!  Well, 
                         you go ahead and try! You couldn't 
                         do it in a million years, with all 
                         your radio stations and all your 
                         power! Because it's bigger than 
                         whether I'm a fake! It's bigger 
                         than your ambitions! And it's bigger 
                         than all the bracelets and fur 
                         coats in the world!

               WIDER SHOT: ANN runs to JOHN.

                         You bet it is, John!

               JOHN starts to exit.

               MED. SHOT: Shooting toward door.

                              (turning to them)
                         And that's exactly what I'm going 
                         down there to tell those people!

               As JOHN reaches door, TED SHELDON jumps in front of him.

               CLOSE SHOT:

                         Wait a minute, you ungrateful rat! 
                         My Uncle's been too good to—

               While he speaks, JOHN looks down at the fist clutching his 
               shirt, and then, with a suddenness that startles TED, he 
               steps aside and clips TED on the jaw. TED's knees buckle 
               and he goes down. JOHN exits.

               WIDER SHOT: As several men rush to TED's assistance. D. B. 
               does not move.

                         He's getting away!


               EXT. ENTRANCE TO D. B.'S HOUSE 

               MED. SHOT: As JOHN hurries out. He goes by half a dozen 
               members of TED SHELDON's motorcycle troops who wait around 
               to escort D. B. to the convention.

               INT. DINING ROOM

               FULL SHOT: The room is full of commotion. ANN is running 
               out of the room, going after JOHN. Several men bend over 
               TED. D. B. glares toward door, his face hardening. HAMMETT 
               is barking at him.

               D. B. reaches under the table, lifts up two phones. Hands 
               one to HAMMETT.

                                     D. B.
                         Get the Bulletin !

               He, himself, dials the other phone.


                         I've always told you, D. B. you're 
                         playing with dynamite!

                                     D. B.
                              (calling to men)
                         Don't let that girl get away!

               The butler rushes out.

                         Before he gets through tonight 
                         he'll ruin us all!

                         You've got to stop him, D. B.!

                                     D. B.
                         I'll stop him! I'll stop him cold! 
                         Don't worry, I've been ready for 

                                                                CUT TO: 

               EXT. D. B.'S ENTRANCE—AT GATE 

               MED. SHOT: As ANN runs alongside JOHN.

                         John!  Oh, John, please listen to 
                         me!  Please—I can explain 
                         everything, John. I didn't know 
                         what they were going to do! Let me 
                         go with you, John! John, please!

               JOHN gets into taxi—slams door—ANN runs beside cab as it 
               starts off.

                         Go ahead, driver! Ball park!

                         John, please let me go with you! 
                         Please, John!

               Several troopers grab ANN.

                         Mr. Norton wants to see you.


               As the men get a firmer grip on her and ANN fights to get 

                                                                 CUT TO:

               INT. D. B.'S STUDY

               MED. SHOT: D. B. is on the phone. The others pace around, 
               perturbedly. HAMMETT has the second phone in his hand.

                                     D. B.
                              (into phone)
                         Listen to me, Mayor Lovett, you do 
                         as I say. I want them both arrested. 
                         You tell the police department to 
                         pick up Connell. I've got the girl 

                              (holds out phone)
                         I've got the Bulletin !

                                     D. B.
                         I don't care what you charge them 
                         with! If you're worried, let them 
                         go in the morning, but keep them 
                         in jail over night!

               He bangs up the receiver. Grabs another phone from HAMMETT.

                                     D. B.
                         Hello, Bulletin ?  Put Pop Dwyer 

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               EXT. ENTRANCE TO BALL PARK:

               MED. SHOT: Over the entrance gate a huge banner reads: 

               People come from all directions and pour through the gates. 
               Some carry umbrellas over their heads, others have their 
               coat collars turned up. Women hold newspapers over their 
               heads to protect their hats. It is a misty, drizzling rain.

               EXT. BALL PARK

               LONG SHOT: Shooting from ANNOUNCER's view down at the 
               Speaker's platform which has been erected on "Home Plate."  
               On it, in the rear, is a brass band. In front of it is a 
               speaker's table, over which dangles the microphone of a 
               public address system. Attached to the table are several 
               microphones with names of broadcasting stations on them.

               MED. SHOT: Shooting toward audience. They sing: "Oh, 

               MED. SHOT: Toward people seated in grandstand. They join 
               in the singing.

               ANOTHER ANGLE: Toward a third section. They also pick up 
               the song.

               LONG SHOT: Taking in as many as possible. Everyone sings, 
               and the volume has risen considerably.

               MED. SHOT: Shooting down an aisle. A stream of people take 
               up the song, as they march to their seats.

               MED. SHOT: At entrance to Park. Crowds are coming in—and 
               they, too, begin singing. They are also joined by the 
               policemen posted at the gates.

               MED. SHOT: A second entrance to Park. Another crowd is 
               entering, also singing.

               MED. SHOT: Of BERT and SOURPUSS in the foreground of a 
               group on platform, all of whom sing. BERT has a large rolled-
               up scroll in his hand.

               CLOSE-UP: Of the COLONEL. Sitting in a corner somewhere, 
               looking around speculatively, with a stubborn mental 
               reservation that they are still all heelots.

               SEVERAL CLOSE SHOTS: Of small groups—with their wet faces 
               held high, singing lustily, eyes sparkling.

               LONG SHOT: Shooting from the platform down toward the 
               audience. The song finally comes to a climax—and 
               immediately, lusty cheering starts, as they see JOHN coming 
               on platform.

               MED. SHOT: Toward platform. JOHN goes to the microphone of 
               the public address system.

                         Three cheers for John Doe!

                         Listen, ladies and gentlemen!

               Before he can go any further, the band strikes up the strain 
               of "AMERICA" and immediately the large assembly begins 
               singing it.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. As his lips form the words. His 
               expression is solemn.

               VARIOUS SHOTS: Of groups, singing.

               LONG SHOT: As people sing. Finally the song is ended, and 
               an enthusiastic cheer is emitted by the crowd.

               MED. SHOT: On platform. JOHN again steps toward the 
               microphone and makes another effort to speak, but the 
               CLERGYMAN places a detaining hand on his arm.

                         Just a moment, John. We begin with 
                         a short prayer.

               LONGER SHOT: Shooting over the heads of the audience toward 
               the platform in the background. Gradually the cheering 

                              (speaking into public 
                              address system)
                         Quiet, please. Ladies and 
                         gentlemen—let us have a moment of 
                         silent prayer for the John Does 
                         all over the world . . . many of 
                         whom are homeless and hungry. Rise, 
                         please. Everybody rise.

               The CLERGYMAN and JOHN, standing next to him, immediately 
               bow their heads.

               LONG SHOT: Shooting toward audience. As far as the Camera 
               eye can see, heads are bowed in prayer. The reflection on 
               the wet umbrellas creates a strange and mystic light.

               SEVERAL CLOSE SHOTS: Of small groups—in silent prayer.

               CLOSE-UP: Of the COLONEL. Rather grudgingly, he has his 
               head lowered.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His eyes are shut—his face wreathed in 
               an expression of compassion.

               MED. SHOT: At press section. They, too, bow respectfully. 
               The reporters are quiet for the first time.

               EXT. STREET

               LONG SHOT: Directly in front of entrance to ball park. A 
               stream of news trucks pull up, filled with newsboys—they 
               immediately alight.

               EXT. STREET

               MED. SHOT: In front of another entrance. More trucks 
               arrive—packed with newsboys.

               EXT. STREET

               MED. SHOT: Shooting toward entrance. As an army of newsboys, 
               each carrying a stack of newspapers, run toward us yelling:

                         Extry, extry! Read all about it!

               MED. SHOT: Toward another entrance. Another swarm of 
               newsboys dash in, also shouting.

                         Extry! John Doe a fake!

               LONG SHOT: Of audience with their heads still bowed. Slowly, 
               they begin turning around, puzzled, as from all directions 
               and down every aisle, boys are running, waving papers in 
               the air.

                         Here you are! John Doe a fake! 
                         Read all about it! John Doe movement 
                         a racket!

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He looks up, terror-stricken.

               MED. SHOT: At press section. Great excitement prevails 

                                     ANNOUNCER (JOHN B. HUGHES)
                         Newsboys! Hundreds of yelling 
                         newsboys are swarming into the 
                         park like locusts! They're yelling, 
                         "John Doe's a fake! Fake!"

               MED. SHOT: Of audience. As newsboys are distributing papers 
               to the baffled people.

                         Here you are! No charge! John Doe 
                         a fake!

               MED. SHOT: Of a second group. Some already have papers and 
               peer, unbelievingly, at the headlines. Others grab papers 
               from newsboys' hands.

                         "Federal investigation urged by 
                         Chamber of Commerce."

               MED. SHOT: Speaker's platform. SOURPUSS and BERT, reading 

                         How could he be a fake?

                         It must be some kind of a gag.

                         A what?

                         A gag. A gag!


               LONG SHOT: We hear the shrieking of sirens and almost 
               immediately a limousine, escorted by Sheldon's motorcycle 
               troops, pulls up. Directly behind it is a string of cars.

               MED. SHOT: The door of the limousine flies open and D. B. 
               comes out. He immediately heads for the platform.

               CAMERA PANS OVER and we see troopers pouring out of the 
               cars with TED SHELDON directing them.

                         Come on, come on, step on it! Step 
                         on it! Step on it! You all know 
                         your places now, so let's get going! 
                         Wait for the signal!

               MED. SHOT: DRUNK with a balloon. He holds balloon up to 
               TED, getting in TED's way.

                         Hey, mister, will you autograph my 

                              (and breaks balloon)

                              (pushing drunk aside)

               EXT. PARK 

               MED. SHOT: At Speaker's platform. JOHN is in front of the 
               microphone trying to make himself heard over thousands of 
               voices, all speaking at once.

                         Ladies and gentlemen!  This is 
                         exactly what I came down here to 
                         tell you about tonight. Please, if 
                         you'll all just be quiet for a few 
                         minutes I can explain this whole 
                         thing to you. As you all know, 
                         this paper is published by a man 
                         by the name of D. B. Norton . . .

               MED. SHOT: Shooting towards audience. Down an aisle stalks 
               D. B., his hand waving in the air.

                                     D. B.
                         Don't listen to that man! He's a 

               CAMERA PANS with him as he hurries down the aisle to the 
               platform—all eyes turned toward him.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. As he stares at D. B. approaching, too 
               flustered to know what to do.

               MED. SHOT: Toward platform. As D. B. runs up the few steps 
               and proceeds to the microphone, troopers clearing the way 
               for him.

                              (drags John from 
                         Stand back!

                                     D. B.
                         Wait a minute! Everybody wait a 
                         minute! Wait a minute, ladies and 
                         gentlemen! My name is D. B. Norton 
                         . . . you all know me! I accuse 
                         this man of being a faker! We've 
                         been taken for a lot of suckers! 
                         And I'm the biggest of the lot!
                         I spent a fortune backing this man 
                         in what I believed to be a sincere 
                         and worthy cause, just as you all 
                         did! And now I find out it's nothing 
                         but a cheap racket!  Cooked up by 
                         him and two of my employees for 
                         the sole purpose of collecting 
                         dues from John Does all over the 

               JOHN breaks away from the troopers and gets to the mike.

                         That's a lie!

                                     D. B.
                         It's not a lie! Nickels and dimes! 
                         To stuff into their own pockets! 
                         You can read all about it in the 
                         newspapers there!

                         That's a lie! Listen—don't believe 
                         what he says . . .

                                     D. B.
                              (overlapping above 
                         Let go of me!  This man had no 
                         intention of jumping off of the 
                         top of a building! He was paid to 
                         say so!
                              (turning to John)
                         Do you deny that?

                         That's got nothing to do with it!

                                     D. B.
                         Were you paid for it—or weren't 

                         Yes! I was paid! But the—

                                     D. B.
                              (over-lapping above 
                         And what about the suicide note? 
                         You didn't write that, either!

                         What difference does that make?

                                     D. B.
                         Did you write it—or didn't you?

                         No, I didn't write it, but—

                                     D. B.
                         Ah, you bet your life you didn't! 
                         You look in your papers, ladies 
                         and gentlemen, and you'll find 
                         Miss Mitchell's signed confession 
                         that she was the one that wrote 

                         Listen, folks, it's a fact that I 
                         didn't write the letter, but this 
                         whole thing started—

                                     D. B.
                         There! You see? He admits it! You're 
                         a fake, John Doe! And for what 
                         you've done to all these good 
                         people—they ought to run you out 
                         of the country—and I hope they do 

               He leaves the platform—followed by his troopers.

               SEVERAL SHOTS: Of groups as they stare at JOHN, silent and 
               stunned, waiting for him to speak.

               FULL SHOT: The whole park full of people wait in breathless 
               anticipation. From somewhere in the distance we hear a 
               single voice of a man.

                         Speak up, John! We believe you!

               MED. SHOT: Under the platform. We see several of D. B.'s 
               troopers pulling at the cables of the public address system.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He speaks into the microphone.

                         Please listen, folks! Now that 
                         he's through shooting off his face, 
                         I've got a couple of things to 
                         tell you about—

               CLOSE SHOT: Under the platform. One of the troopers 
               disconnects the public address system by cutting the cable.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He realizes the loud speaker is dead, 
               and looks around helplessly.

               MED. SHOT: Somewhere in audience TED SHELDON directs 

                         Come on! The rest of you get in 
                         here and riot! Break this crowd 
                         up! Come on!

               MED. SHOT: Of a group of John Does. They still stare 
               uncertainly. Suddenly, the head of one of SHELDON's troopers 
               appear—and cupping his hands over his mouth, he yells toward 

                         John Doe's a fake! Boo! Boooooo!

               LONG SHOT: From ANNOUNCER's view. Shooting toward audience. 
               The crowd is all yelling at once now.

               MED. SHOT:

                         I'm sorry, folks, but we can't 
                         hear him any more. Something's 
                         gone wrong with the loudspeaker.

               MED. SHOT: Of JOHN. Trying to talk over microphone.

                         Say, they can't hear me! The thing's 
                         not working!
                         Ladies and gentlemen!  Look—this 
                         thing's bigger than whether I'm a 
                              (turns to BERT)
                         Look, Bert, you believe me, don't 

                         Sure, I believe you. Walking my 
                         legs off digging up five thousand 
                         signatures for a phoney!

               Suddenly, nervously, he begins tearing up the petition in 
               his hand.

                         Well, there you are, Mr. Doe!
                              (flinging crumpled 
                              petition at him)
                         Five thousand names asking you not 
                         to jump off any roof!

               He turns to leave.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of SOURPUSS, who, heartbroken, stops BERT.

                         It makes no difference, Bert—the 
                         ideas's still good. We don't have 
                         to give up our club.

                         Yeah? Well, you can have it!

               He exits.

               LONG SHOT: From ANNOUNCER's view. Crowd is yelling wildly.

                         They're starting to throw things!

                                     2ND ANNOUNCER
                         Somebody's going to get hurt!

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He looks helplessly down at the hostile 

               INT. POLICE STATION

               FULL SHOT: ANN and CONNELL are surrounded by several 
               policemen. A sergeant sits at his desk, on which is a radio. 
               ANN's face is haggard and desperate as she listens to the 
               radio announcer.

                         I'm afraid it'll be John Doe. Listen 
                         to that mob!

               Unable to stand it any longer, ANN suddenly jumps out of 
               her seat.

                         I've got to go to him!

                         Sorry, lady—I can't let you out.

                         Oh, let me go! Let me go to him! 
                         Oh, please, please let me go!  
                         They're crucifying him! I can help 

                         Sorry, sister. We got orders to 
                         hold you.

                         Orders from who? Can't they see 
                         it's a frameup?

               She is still desperately struggling to get free—when her 
               mother comes hurrying in.

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         Ann, darling!

                         Oh, Mother! They won't let me go! 
                         They won't let me go!

               The police release her and she throws herself into her 
               mother's arms.

               EXT. BALL PARK.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He still attempts to get himself heard.

                         Listen, folks! You gotta listen to 
                         me, everybody!

               MED. SHOT: Of a group of John Does.

                                     A MAN
                              (yelling toward 
                         Back to the jungle, you hobo!

                                     2ND MAN
                         Just another racket!

                                     JOHN'S VOICE
                         Stick to your clubs!

                         We've been fed baloney so long 
                         we're getting used to it!

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He disregards the missiles that fly 
               around his head.

                         The idea is still good! Believe 
                         me, folks! . . .

               EXT. BALL PARK.

               MED. LONG SHOT: Toward platform. The crowd pushes menacingly 
               around the platform, with policemen struggling to control 
               them. JOHN still stands there, pathetic and helpless. 
               Missiles of all kinds fly into the scene. The members of 
               the band are scrambling off the platform—as well as the 
               others, until John is left alone.

               LONG SHOT: Shooting toward audience. They still boo and 

               MED. SHOT: Of the COLONEL. Fearful for JOHN, he starts 
               pushing his way through the crowd toward him.

               MED. SHOT: Of a group of people. Suddenly a woman reaches 
               into a lunch basket she carries and takes out a tomato.

                         You faker!

               She reaches back to throw the tomato.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His voice is gone. His eyes are glassy. 
               He is making one last effort to speak.

                         Listen . . . John Does . . .
                         You're the hope of the world . . .

               As if in challenge to that statement, the tomato flies in 
               and strikes him on the forehead. It seems to stun him. He 
               remains motionless, staring before him with sightless eyes. 
               The red smear of the tomato trickles down his face.

               MED. SHOT: Of the COLONEL, amidst the crowd. He sees JOHN 
               hit and winces. Then, setting his jaw, he pushes people 
               violently aside, trying to reach JOHN.

               MED. SHOT: On platform, JOHN stares futilely before him. 
               The COLONEL reaches his side and glancing sympathetically 
               up at his face, starts to lead him off the platform. A 
               squadron of policemen also rush to his rescue and precede 
               JOHN and the COLONEL.

               TRUCKING SHOT: Down the aisle—as police disperse the crowd 
               who boo and threaten JOHN from the sidelines.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He is oblivious of the jeering, 
               shouting mob—and of the wet newspapers flung in his 

               MED. SHOT: At dug-out exit—as the police finally manage to 
               get him safely out of the park.

               MED. SHOT: ANNOUNCER's booth.

                                     JOHN B. HUGHES
                         The police finally manage to get 
                         him out of the park! If that boy 
                         isn't hurt, it'll be a miracle!

               INT. POLICE STATION.

               MED. SHOT: ANN and her mother sit on a bench. A policeman 
               is in the background. ANN stares into space. Her mother 
               has an arm around her.

                                     ANNOUNCER'S VOICE
                         Ladies and gentlemen, this certainly 
                         looks like the end of the John Doe 

               A policeman snaps the radio off.

                              (lifts glass of 
                         Well, boys, you can chalk up another 
                         one to the Pontius Pilates.

               TWO SHOT: ANN and her mother.

                         I should have been there. I could 
                         have helped him.
                         He was so all alone!

               Her MOTHER draws ANN consolingly to her, and lays her head 
               on her breast.

                                                            DISSOLVE TO:

               EXT. A HIGHWAY

               MED. SHOT: Of BERT's car on the way home.

               INT. CAR

               CLOSE SHOT: BERT and SOURPUSS. They both look depressed. 
               After a silence, SOURPUSS speaks.

                         A lot of us are going to be mighty 
                         ashamed of ourselves after tonight. 
                         We certainly didn't give that man 
                         much of a chance.

               They lapse again into silence. BERT stares grimly at the 

                                                            DISSOLVE TO:


               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He sits on a rock, his head bent low, 
               tears streaming shamelessly down his cheeks. Camera draws 
               back and we find the COLONEL before the fire, boiling water 
               in a small tin pan.

                                     COLONEL'S VOICE
                         Have some more coffee, Long John?

                         No, thanks, Colonel.

               JOHN lifts his eyes skyward, stares profoundly, a curious 
               expression over his face.

                                                            DISSOLVE TO:

               A MONTAGE: 

               LONG SHOT: Of JOHN, a lonely figure, walking dejectedly. 
               As he walks, faces begin to appear one by one, to taunt 
               him. Their accusing voices are heard.

                                     WOMAN'S VOICE

                                     MAN'S VOICE

                                     2ND VOICE

                                     3RD VOICE

                                     4TH VOICE

                                     5TH VOICE
                         Why don't you jump!

                                     GIRL'S VOICE
                         Christmas Eve at midnight!
                              (she laughs, 

                                                            DISSOLVE TO:


               1. BERT shaking hands with him, saying:

                         You're a wonderful man, Mr. Doe.

               2. MRS. DELANEY kissing his hand and saying:

                                     MRS. DELANEY
                         May God bless you, my boy.

               3. ANN in Broadcasting Station, kissing him:

                         Now, get in there and pitch!

               4. D. B. issuing his tirade at JOHN:

                                     D. B.
                         You're a fake, John Doe, and I can 
                         prove it! You're the big hero that's 
                         supposed to jump off tall buildings 
                         and things. You remember? What do 
                         you suppose your precious John 
                         Does will say when they find out 
                         that you never had any intention 
                         of doing it—that you were being 
                         paid to say so?

               5. Again the girl who laughed appears:

                         Christmas Eve at midnight?

               And again she laughs sneeringly.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 


               LONG SHOT: It is a picturesque scene of the City Hall 
               outlined in silhouette against the sky. A peaceful mantle 
               of snow silently descends upon it. Over the shot we hear 
               the plaintive voices of children singing "Holy Night."

                                                            DISSOLVE TO:

               EXT. OUTSIDE OF D. B.'S HOUSE

               MED. SHOT: Outside D. B.'s Study—through window. A group 
               of eight young carolers sing "Holy Night."  It is a 
               continuation of the music from previous scene.

                                                                 CUT TO:

               INT. D. B.'S STUDY.

               MED. SHOT: In the dimly lit room, we see the lonely figure 
               of D. B., as he stands near a window staring out, 
               meditatively. The voices of the children singing Christmas 
               carols are faintly heard.

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. He peers into the night, enveloped by 
               disturbing thoughts. After a moment, he takes out his watch 
               and glances at it. Then, as if annoyed by his own 
               apprehension, he shoves it violently back into his pocket.

               CAMERA RETREATS in front of him as he crosses, determinedly, 
               to a humidor, takes a cigar and shoves it into his mouth.  
               Just as he is about to light it, he becomes aware of the 
               signing, and cocks his head, listening.

               WIDER SHOT: As he drops the match and the unlighted 
               cigar—and starts toward door. Just then the BUTLER comes 

                         Merry Christmas, sir.

                                     D. B.
                         Oh. Merry Christmas.

               D. B. hands him a bill and nods toward the children. The 
               BUTLER exits.

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. Staring out into space moodily. We hear 
               the voices of the children saying, "Thank you, sir! Merry 
               Christmas!" D. B.'s mouth screws up, unhappily. It is far 
               from a "merry" Christmas. It is a very lonely, conscience-
               stricken one.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INT. POLICE STATION

               MED. SHOT: A SERGEANT sits in front of his desk. Opposite 
               him is a POLICEMAN.  Their rummy game has been interrupted 
               by a phone call which the SERGEANT is now answering.

                         Who? John Doe? Is that screwball 
                         still around?

                              (with disgust)
                         Aw, that dame's been callin' all 

                                     DESK SERGEANT
                         Sure, sure, I know. Yeah. At 
                         midnight, huh?  Okay, lady. We'll 
                         have the place surrounded with 

               He hangs up the phone—twirls his finger at his temple, 
               shrugs—and reaches for a card.

                                                                CUT TO: 

               INT. ANN'S BEDROOM

               CLOSE SHOT: ANN is in bed. She looks wan. Her hand still 
               rests on the phone.

               CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal a doctor by her side and her 
               mother at the foot of the bed. They watch her—concerned.

                         Oh—they're laughing at me!

               Impulsively, ANN picks up the receiver and starts dialing 

                                     DOCTOR'S VOICE
                         You're a sick girl, Ann. You'd 
                         better take it easy.

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         Whom are you calling now? You called 
                         that number not ten minutes ago!

                              (into phone)
                         Hello. Mr. Connell? Have you seen 
                         him yet? Have you—

                                                                CUT TO: 

               INT: CORRIDOR OF CITY HALL 

               MED. SHOT: Toward a telephone booth. CONNELL speaks into 
               the phone.

                         Now listen, Ann—he can't possibly 
                         get in without our seeing him. I'm 
                         watching the side door and the 
                         Colonel's out front, so stop 

               INT. ANN'S BEDROOM - CLOSE SHOT:

                         Thank you.

               She hangs up the receiver, despairingly. Then, suddenly, 
               she jumps out of bed and runs to a clothes closet—grabbing 
               a coat and scarf.

                                     MRS. MITCHELL
                         Why, Ann! . . .

                         Ann, don't be foolish!

                                                           DISSOLVE TO: 

               INSERT: The City Hall tower clock registers 11:45.

                                                                 CUT TO:

               EXT. HIGHWAY

               MED. SHOT: BERT's car driving in the snow.

               INT. CAR

               FULL SHOT: BERT HANSEN drives. In the car with him are his 
               wife, SOURPUSS and several others.

                         If this isn't the craziest, the 
                         battiest, the looniest wild goose 
                         chase I ever heard of?

                                     MRS. HANSEN
                         Oh, shut up. Bert. Sourpuss is 

                         Yeah? Well, if he is, I'm a banana 

                         That man is gonna be on that roof. 
                         Don't ask me how I know. I just 
                         know. And you know it as well as I 

                         Sure, sure. I'd like to believe in 
                         fairy tales, but a guy that's fake 
                         isn't gonna jump off any roof.

                                     MRS. HANSEN
                         I don't think he was any fake—not 
                         with that face. And, anyway, what 
                         he stood for wasn't a fake.

                         Okay, honey, okay.

                                                                CUT TO: 


               FULL SHOT: It is vast and empty, except for a colored 
               porter, scrubbing.

               MED. SHOT: At entrance. As ANN enters from outside. 
               Determinedly, she starts toward elevators.

               CLOSE SHOT: At elevator. ANN pushes button impatiently. 
               She feels weak, and has to brace herself to stay on her 
               feet. Suddenly, she is startled by the COLONEL'S voice.

                         Elevators ain't running.

               CAMERA PANS OVER to the COLONEL, who sits on the stairs, 
               next to the elevator.

               MED. SHOT: ANN walks over to him, her face lighting up 


                         You shouldn't have gotten out of 
                         bed, Miss.

                         Has he been here?


                         Have you seen him?

                         I ain't seen him for a week.

                         Where's Connell?

                         He's watching the other door.

                         Oh. Gee, you're swell! Oh.

               ANN stares at him a moment, then, impulsively, she starts 
               to pass him to go up the stairs.

                              (grabs her)
                         No sense in going up there! I been 
                         here for hours. He ain't here!

                              (pulls away from 
                         Oh, let me go, will you!

                              (calling after her)
                         Now, that's crazy. It's fourteen 

               But ANN vanishes. The COLONEL shakes his head and resumes 
               his post.

               MED. SHOT: At entrance. As the MAYOR, followed by D. B., 
               HAMMETT, and the others, enters. Camera pans with them as 
               they go toward the elevator.

               MED. SHOT: They arrive at the elevator. The MAYOR takes 
               out his keys and unlocks the elevator door.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of the COLONEL. He watches them, puzzled. Can't 
               figure out what they are doing here.

                                                                CUT TO: 

               INSERT: Of elevator dial—as the light flicks on to number 
               14, indicating 14th floor. Camera pans down to elevator 
               door, which opens and the men come out.

                         This is as far as the elevator 
                         goes. We've got to walk up to the 

               He indicates the stairway.

                                                                 CUT TO:

               WIDER SHOT: As they cross to stairway, silently.

                                                            DISSOLVE TO:

               EXT. CITY HALL ROOF

               FULL SHOT: The men enter. They glance around searchingly—and 
               then slowly move toward the edge of the parapet.

               CLOSER SHOT: The men look obviously self-conscious. No one 
               speaks for a while.

                              (breaking the silence)
                         That tramp is probably full of 
                         Christmas cheer and asleep in some 
                         flop house.

               There is again silence. After a few minutes, the MAYOR 

                         Let's go. I've got to decorate my 

                                                                CUT TO: 

               INT. CORRIDOR — 14TH FLOOR

               MED. SHOt: Outside Men's Washroom. JOHN comes out, and as 
               camera pans with him he proceeds to letter chute next to 
               elevator. We see that it is the top of the chute, and from 
               the elevator being there, we know it is the 14th floor. 
               JOHN drops the letter into the chute.

               EXT. CITY HALL ROOF

               FULL SHOT: The place is silent except for occasional 
               scraping of feet as several of the men move around. They 
               continually refer to their watches. Finally, D. B. gives 
               up impatiently.

                                     D. B.
                         Well, I give up. I don't know what 
                         gave us the idea that he—he'd 
                         attempt anything like this.

                         I guess you're right. I'm afraid 
                         the joke's on us. Let's go.

                                     D. B.
                         I hope nobody finds out we've been 

               They all start to exit, when suddenly D. B. stops. He puts 
               his hand out, and they all stop to listen. They hear 
               footsteps, and back into the shadows.

               MED. SHOT: Shooting toward stairs. JOHN appears around the 
               bend and mounts the last few steps.

               MED. SHOT: Of the huddled group. They watch breathlessly. 
               In the darkness, their eyes dominate the scene.

               MED. SHOT: Over their shoulders. As JOHN, expressionless, 
               his cigarette in his hand, crosses to the parapet, and 
               looks out. He takes a puff of his cigarette and exhales 
               the smoke.

               MED. SHOT: Of the huddled group. The MAYOR is for stepping 
               forward, but D. B. with an extended hand stops him, 
               indicating for them to wait and see what happens.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He takes the envelope out of his pocket 
               and examines it.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of the group. Their eyes glued on him tensely.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He stares at the envelope.

               INSERT: Of envelope. On it is written: "TO JOHN DOES 

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He replaces the envelope in his pocket.

               INT. TOWER

               CLOSE SHOT: The group. Their eyes riveted on JOHN. They 
               feel the moment has come. Several of them glance toward D. 

               WIDER SHOT: To include them all, and JOHN. He drops his 
               cigarette on the ground, and bending over, crushes it with 
               his foot. Just as he straightens out again, D. B. speaks.

                                     D. B.
                              (restrained voice)
                         I wouldn't do that if I were you, 

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. As he turns sharply, startled. He stares 
               blankly at the five people.

               MED. SHOT: Of the group. They move slightly forward and 

                                     D. B.
                         It'll do you no good.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He continues to stare at them, strangely.

               WIDER SHOT: To include them all.

                                     D. B.
                         The Mayor has policemen downstairs 
                         with instructions to remove all 
                         marks of identification you may 
                         have on your person. You'll be 
                         buried in Potter's Field[12] and 
                         you will have accomplished nothing.

               CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. After a moment, he speaks.

                              (in a sepulchral 
                         I've taken care of that. I've 
                         already mailed a copy of this letter 
                         to Mr. Connell.

               MED. SHOT: Of the group. Amazed that he thought of this. 
               They feel themselves helpless. D. B. tries taking an 
               authoritative tone.

                                     D. B.
                              (his throat is dry)
                         John, why don't you forget this 

               He steps forward as he speaks.

                         Stop right where you are, Mr. 
                         Norton, if you don't want to go 
                         overboard with me.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN's face. His eyes have a wild, maniacal 
               look in them.

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. He stares into JOHN's eyes and a 
               terrified expression covers his face.

               WIDER SHOT: As D. B. instinctively backs up.

                         I'm glad you gentlemen are here. 
                         You've killed the John Doe movement, 
                         all right, but you're going to see 
                         it born all over again. Now, take 
                         a good look, Mr. Norton.

               INT. LANDING TO TOWER

               MED. SHOT: As ANN practically has to pull herself up to 
               the last step. Her face is wet from fever and exhaustion.

                              (an outcry)

               INT. TOWER

               FULL SHOT: As everyone, startled by the outcry, turns. ANN 
               staggers into scene.


               She rushes and throws her arms around him.

                              (muffled sobs)
                         Oh, John, darling. No! No!

               CLOSE SHOT: JOHN and ANN. He stares down at her, blankly. 
               ANN clutches him, her head buried in his shoulder.

                              (muffled sobs)
                         I won't let you. I love you, 

               MED. SHOT: Of the group. They remain motionless, watching.

               CLOSE SHOT: JOHN and ANN. She emits wracking sobs, then 
               lifts her eyes up to him.

                              (in a desperate 
                         John. Please, John, listen to me. 
                         We'll start all over again, just 
                         you and I. It isn't too late. The 
                         John Doe movement isn't dead yet.

               Suddenly she becomes conscious of the others present, and 
               she turns her head.

               CAMERA PANS OVER to what SHE SEES. The group of men 
               watching, silently.

               CAMERA PANS BACK to ANN. Her eyes widen slowly. She looks 
               from them to JOHN and back again, and her face takes on an 
               excited, breathless look, as the reason for their being 
               there becomes comprehensible to her.

                         See, John! It isn't dead, or they 
                         wouldn't be here!  It's alive in 
                         them . They kept it alive. By being 
                         afraid of it. That's why they came 
                         up here.

               CLOSE SHOT: ANN and JOHN. He continues to stand with his 
               hands at his sides, looking at her, while she clings to 
               him desperately. While she speaks, he turns his face from 
               her and stares at the men.

                         Oh, darling. Sure, it should have 
                         been killed before. It was 

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He is staring strangely at the group of 
               men—as slowly, gradually, the curtain is being lifted from 
               his clouded brain.

                                     ANN'S VOICE
                         But we can start clean now. Just 
                         you and I. It'll grow again, John. 
                         It'll grow big. And it'll be strong, 
                         because it'll be honest!

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. Her strength is fast ebbing away. She 
               clings to JOHN more tenaciously.

                              (last bit of effort)
                         Oh, darling, if it's worth dying 
                         for, it's worth living for. Oh, 
                         please, John . . .

               She looks up at his face, seeking some sign of his relenting-
               but she finds none.

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN, who still clinging to him, lays her cheek 
               on his chest—and lifts her eyes heavenward.

                              (a murmured prayer)
                         Oh, please, God—help me!

               FLASH: Of the men—as they stare transfixed, waiting 

               MED. SHOT: At entrance. BERT, SOURPUSS and others 
               appear—having run up the stairs breathlessly. Their eyes 
               are filled with apprehension. CONNELL and the COLONEL are 
               with them. When they see the scene before them, they stop, 

               CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. Suddenly she stares before her—as a divine 
               inspiration comes to her. Her eyes light up with a wide, 
               ecstatic fire.

               TWO SHOT: ANN and JOHN. ANN turns and glances up at JOHN's 


               She takes his face in her two hands and turns it to her.

                         John, look at me. You want to be 
                         honest, don't you?  Well, you don't 
                         have to die to keep the John Doe 
                         idea alive! Someone already died 
                         for that once! The first John Doe. 
                         And He's kept that idea alive for 
                         nearly two thousand years.

               CLOSE SHOT: BERT, his WIFE and SOURPUSS. The cynical 
               expression on BERT's face begins to soften.

                                     ANN'S VOICE
                              (with sincere 
                         It was He who kept it alive in 
                         them —and He'll go on keeping it 
                         alive for ever and always! For 
                         every John Doe movement these men 
                         kill, a new one will be born!

               TWO SHOT: ANN and JOHN. JOHN remains grimly unmoved. ANN 

                         That's why those bells are ringing, 
                         John! They're calling to us—not to 
                         give up—but to keep on fighting! 
                         To keep on pitching! Oh, don't you 
                         see, darling? This is no time to 
                         give up!

               SEVERAL FLASHES: To intercut with ANN's speech—one of BERT; 
               his WIFE; CONNELL; D. B.

               MED. SHOT: Toward ANN and JOHN. ANN's strength is slowly 

                         You and I, John, we can—
                         No, John, if you die, I want to 
                         die, too!
                         Oh, I love you so—

               Her strength leaves her—and as her eyelids slowly shut, 
               she collapses limply in his arms.

               MED. SHOT: Of BERT's group, as they react to this. BERT 
               stares, profoundly moved.

               MED. SHOT: JOHN and ANN—as he stares bewildered, at ANN at 
               his feet. Mechanically, he reaches down and lifts her in 
               his arms.

                                     BERT'S VOICE
                         Mr. Doe . . .

               JOHN vaguely becomes aware of BERT's presence and glances 
               toward him.

               MED. SHOT: BERT, his WIFE and SOURPUSS.

                              (his voice 
                         You don't have to—Why, we're with 
                         you, Mr. Doe. We just lost our 
                         heads and acted like a mob. Why, 
                         we . . .

                                     BERT'S WIFE
                              (jumping in)
                         What Bert's trying to say is—well—we 
                         need you, Mr. Doe. There were a 
                         lot of us didn't believe what that 
                         man said.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN—as he listens to her, expressionless.

                                     WIFE'S VOICE
                         We were going to start up our John 
                         Doe Club again whether we saw you 
                         or not.

               MED. SHOT: BERT, his WIFE and SOURPUSS.

                         Weren't we, Bert?

               BERT nods.

                         And there were a lot of others 
                         that were going to do the same 
                         thing. Why, Mr. Sourpuss even got 
                         a letter from his cousin in Toledo, 
                         and . . .

                         Yeah, I got it right here, Mr. 

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. The bewildered look in his eyes has 
               vanished. It is now replaced by an expression of softness 
               and understanding.

                                     WIFE'S VOICE
                         Only—only it'll be a lot easier 
                         with you. Please—please come with 
                         us, Mr. Doe!

               JOHN remains standing, thoughtful.

               MED. SHOT: Of BERT's group. They all look supplicatingly 
               at him.

               CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He stares at BERT's group and, shifting 
               his gaze, looks at D. B. and his crowd. Then, turning back 
               to BERT, his eyes light up and something of a warm smile 
               appears on his face.

               FULL SHOT: As JOHN, having decided on his course, starts 
               forward with ANN in his arms. The church bells chime loud 
               and victoriously.

               MED. SHOT: Around BERT. Their eyes brighten ecstatically 
               as JOHN walks toward them. They all speak at once.

                                     BERT'S GROUP
                         Mr. Doe!  She'll be all right!

               We've got a car downstairs . . .

               They follow JOHN out, chattering excitedly. Only CONNELL 
               and the COLONEL remain.

                         Long John!

               CLOSE-UP: Of CONNELL. He glares at D. B. defiantly.

               CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. awe-stricken by the scene he has 

               MED. SHOT: CONNELL and the COLONEL.

                              (to D. B.—defiantly)
                         There you are, Norton! The people! 
                         Try and lick that! Come on, Colonel.

               They exit, arm in arm, as the music swells—suggesting 
               emergence from darkness and confusion to light and 

                                                               FADE OUT:

               THE END