Chapter 2
LEEK. A revolver. (_At fire._) You see I do a lot of night driving, visiting patients in outlying districts--they're a tough lot round here, and one never knows what might happen, so I have been accustomed to carry it. I just pulled it out so as to have it handy. I meant to have a pot at that ghost if I had seen him. There's no law against it, is there? I never heard of a close time for ghosts.
BELDON.--Oh, I say, never mind ghosts. Will _you_ share my room? (_To MALCOLM._)
(_GEORGE comes down a little, holding candle._)
MALCOLM. With pleasure. I'm not exactly frightened, but I'd sooner have company, and I daresay George here would be glad to be allowed to make up a bed on the floor.
BELDON. Certainly.
MALCOLM. Well, that's settled. A majority of three to one ought to stop any ghost. Will that arrangement suit you, George?
GEORGE. Thank you, sir. And if you gentlemen would kindly come down to the bar with me while I put out the gas. I could never be sufficiently grateful, and when (_at door_) we come back we can let the Doctor out at the front door. Will that do, sir?
LEEK. All right; I'll be getting my coat on. (_GEORGE gets to door. They exit at door L. LEEK picks up his coat off chair up L., puts it on and then turns up trousers. Footsteps heard in flies, then goes to the window R., pulls curtain aside and opens the shutters of the window nearest the fire. A flood of moonlight streams in from R. Clock strikes twelve._) By Jove, what a lovely night. That poor devil did get a fright, and no mistake. (_Crossing down to fireplace for his cap which is on the mantelpiece. MALCOLM, BELDON and GEORGE return--the door closes after them._) Well, no sign of it, eh?
MALCOLM. No, we've seen nothing this time. Here, give me the candle, George, while you turn out the gas.
LEEK. All right, George, I'll put this one out. (_Turns out gas below fire._)
(_MALCOLM and BELDON are up at sideboard, GEORGE having put the other gas out, goes up to them and is just lighting the candles for them. The DOCTOR is filling his pipe at mantel-shelf, and stooping to get a light with a paper spill. LEEK whistles and lights spill. The handle of the door is heard moving. OMNES stand motionless--MALCOLM and BELDON very frightened. They all watch. The room is lit only by the firelight which is very much fainter than it was at the beginning of the play, by the candle which GEORGE holds, and by the flood of moonlight from the window._)
(_The door slowly opens, a hand is seen, then a figure appears in dark breeches, white stockings, buckled shoes, white shirt, very neat in every detail, with a long white or spotted handkerchief tied round the neck, the long end hanging down in front. The face cadaverous, with sunken eyes and a leering smile, and close cropped red hair. The figure blinks at the candle, then slowly raises its hands and unties the handkerchief, its head falls on to one shoulder, it holds handkerchief out at arm's length and advances towards MALCOLM._)
_Table_ GEORGE LEEK BELDON MALCOLM _Chair_
_Fire_ HIRST
(_Just as the figure reaches the place where the moonbeams touch the floor, LEEK fires--he has very quietly and unobtrusively drawn his revolver. GEORGE drops the candle and the figure, writhing, drops to the floor. It coughs once a choking cough. MALCOLM goes slowly forward, touches it with his foot, and kneels by figure, lifts figure up, gazes at it, and pulls the red wig off, discovering HIRST. MALCOLM gasps out "DOCTOR." LEEK places the revolver on chair, kneels behind HIRST. MALCOLM is L. C., kneeling. At this moment SOMERS enters very brightly with lighted candle._)
SOMERS. Well, did Hirst win his bet? (_Seeing HIRST on floor, he realizes the matter_). My God, you didn't--I told him not to. I told him not to!! I told him--(_falls fainting into arms of GEORGE._)
_Curtain._
PICTURE.
BELDON GEORGE LEEK HIRST MALCOLM SOMERS (_kneeling_) (_seated (_kneeling_) (_at door L._) on floor_)
NOTE. _When played at The Haymarket the piece finished with a different ending as given below. MR. CYRIL MAUDE fearing the above tragic termination would be too serious._
_From SOMERS' entrance._
_SOMERS enters with lighted candle, and exclaims very brightly._
SOMERS. Well, did Hirst win his bet?
_Slight pause._
HIRST (_suddenly sitting up_). Yes. (_Turning to DR. LEEK._) You're a damned bad shot, Doctor. (_Then to MALCOLM._) And I'll trouble you for that sovereign.
_The remaining characters express astonishment._
CURTAIN.
* * * * * * *
MARY'S ANKLE
A comedy in 3 acts. By May Tully. Produced originally at the Bijou Theatre, New York. 6 males, 4 females. 1 interior, 1 exterior scene. Modern costumes.
This brisk and peppery farce is one of the cleanest and most hilariously amusing plays of recent years. It is the story of ambitious but impecunious youth. "Doc" Hampton, without a patient, "Stocksie," a lawyer devoid of clients, and "Chub" Perkins, a financier without capital, are in a bad way. In fact, they are broke and it is a real problem for them actually to get food. Mary Jane Smith is the heroine with the ankle. The three pals meet her first as a solicitor of funds for the poor and again as the victim of an automobile accident.
A rich relative, "Doc's" uncle, inclined to be a tightwad but good at heart, comes upon the scene and seeing Mary, immediately takes it for granted that she is his nephew's wife, having been informed by a bogus wedding invitation that the ceremony had just taken place. The fictitious wedding had been arranged by the boys in a moment of need in order to get "Doc's" family in the West to send on wedding presents that could be pawned. As his wedding present, the Uncle insists that "Doc" and Mary accompany him to Bermuda. The situation is tense, but Mary has a sense of humor, and saves the day.
(Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) PRICE 75 CENTS.
WILD WAVES
A comedy in 3 acts. By William Ford Manley. Produced originally at the Times Square Theatre, New York. 30 males, 15 females. 4 interior scenes. Modern costumes.
A rollicking farce about what transpires behind the microphone of a broadcasting studio. The most popular singing artist in Station WWVW is Roy Denny. Through some mischance it comes about that the Denny "golden voice" is really John Duffy. Duffy, being a nervous lad, has always failed miserably from microphone fright whenever he has attempted to sing under his own name. When he croons under Denny's name he kindles the divine hope in female breasts clear across this palpitating country. But Denny receives all the credit. This hoax destroys Duffy's personal love life and results in a conspiracy inside Station WWVW. As a sort of undercurrent to the narrative it introduces satiric bits about the buncombe of radio broadcasting. The play offers fine opportunities for the introduction of musical numbers and comedy acts.
(Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) PRICE 75 CENTS.
THE MIDDLE WATCH
A farcical comedy in 3 acts. By Ian Hay and Stephen King-Hall. Produced originally at the Times Square Theatre, New York. 9 males, 6 females. Modern costumes and naval uniforms. 2 interior scenes.
During a reception on board H. M. S. "Falcon," a cruiser on the China Station, Captain Randall of the Marines has become engaged to Fay Eaton, and in his enthusiasm induces her to stay and have dinner in his cabin. This is met with stern disapproval by Fay's chaperon, Charlotte Hopkinson, who insists that they leave at once. Charlotte, however, gets shut up in the compass room, and a gay young American widow accepts the offer to take her place, both girls intending to go back to shore in the late evening. Of course, things go wrong, and they have to remain aboard all night. By this time the Captain has to be told, because his cabin contains the only possible accommodations, and he enters into the conspiracy without signalling the Admiral's flagship. Then the "Falcon" is suddenly ordered to sea, and the Admiral decides to sail with her. This also makes necessary the turning over to him of the Captain's quarters. The presence of the ladies now becomes positively embarrassing. The girls are bundled into one cabin just opposite that occupied by the Admiral. The game of "general-post" with a marine sentry in stockinged feet is very funny, and so are the attempts to explain matters to the "Old Man" next morning. After this everything ends both romantically and happily.
(Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) PRICE 75 CENTS.
NANCY'S PRIVATE AFFAIR
A comedy in 3 acts. By Myron C. Fagan. Produced originally at the Vanderbilt Theatre, New York. 4 males, 5 females. 2 interior scenes. Modern costumes.
Nothing is really private any more--not even pajamas and bedtime stories. No one will object to Nancy's private affair being made public, and it would be impossible to interest the theatre public in a more ingenious plot. Nancy is one of those smart, sophisticated society women who wants to win back her husband from a baby vamp. Just how this is accomplished makes for an exceptionally pleasant evening. Laying aside her horn-rimmed spectacles, she pretends indifference and affects a mysterious interest in other men. Nancy baits her rival with a bogus diamond ring, makes love to her former husband's best friend, and finally tricks the dastardly rival into a marriage with someone else.
Mr. Fagan has studded his story with jokes and retorts that will keep any audience in a constant uproar.
(Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) PRICE 75 CENTS.
TAKE MY TIP
A comedy in 3 acts. By Nat N. Dorfman. Produced originally at the 48th Street Theatre in New York. 7 males, 6 females. 1 interior scene. Modern costumes.
Few of us have escaped getting our fingers burnt in the crash of the stock market, and even those of us who have, have heard enough about it to take a sympathetic and amused interest in the doings of Henry Merrill when he tries to buck the game and grow rich. The play starts just two months before the crash. Henry, of the local soap works, is so heavy an investor in an oil stock that he is made a thirty-sixth Vice President of the Corporation. Not being the kind of fellow who would forget his friends in this time of good fortune, he lets them all in on the good thing. Being humanly greedy, the friends jump at the chance to profit.... In the second act, after Henry's daughter has eloped, the friends are presenting Henry with a diamond-studded wrist watch, as a token of their esteem, when news comes of the Wall Street upheaval and all are wiped out. Things, however, are not as bad as they look, for Henry, who has an invention to revolutionize the soap industry, sells the idea for a large price and everything is all right again.
(Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) PRICE 75 CENTS.
PETER FLIES HIGH
A comedy in 3 acts. By Myron C. Fagan. Produced originally at the Gaiety Theatre, New York. 8 males, 6 females. 1 interior scene. Modern costumes.
This delightful comedy concerns one Peter Turner who caddied for the Morgans, the Kahns and the Guggenheims on the links at Miami. It was during one of these rounds on the golf links that Peter fell over and killed a stray dog. The local paper built the story up so that Peter becomes a nation-wide hero who saved the lives of many people by strangling a mad canine. By the time the story reaches his home town, Rosedale, New Jersey, Peter has become the boon companion of all the money kings--at least in the public mind--and Peter does his best to foster the deception. Carried away by his imagination he pretends to be a friend of the great, persuades his brother-in-law to buy an option to a ninety-acre lot on the assumption that "Guggenheim" is to build a golf course there, obtains $10,000 from the local banker and then becomes badly involved in his deceptions. After Peter endures the ridicule of his townsfolk and the ire of the banker there suddenly appears on the scene a representative of "Guggenheim" who wants the acreage not for a golf course but an air field, and promptly turns over a check for $75,000 for a part of it.
(Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) PRICE 75 CENTS.