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Pafeer & Companp No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts The District Attorney A Comedy Drama in Three Acts By ORRIN E. WILKINS V Originally produced by The Weldon Club^ in Highland Hally Roxbury^ Mass.^ May j, /p/^, under the direction- of the author and Mr. Harry H. Briggs NOTE This play may be performed by amateurs free of royalty and without express permission. The professional stage-rights are, however, strictly reserved, and performance by professional actors, given in advertised places of amusement and for profit, is forbidden. Persons who may wish to produce this play publicly and professionally should apply to the author in care of the publishers. BOSTON WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 1912 The District Attorney • J .%, CHAR^CCERS Mr. Wm. SEABiJiCT/Pr^L' of. s/ai^ary' Pack- ing Ql. .... .... ,^ ... . .. , . P -B. Phinney. Mr. H erbert '. KRO.VfttE'LL, 'j'kporteK "qfthe " T/tbUnc,^,' •.•;*•.''.::,.: ■/•.*. •.•*. John E. Harvey. Richard Seabury, senior at college . . Edwin C. Archibald, Bob Kendrick, a fixture at the university . Orrin E. Wilkins. Billy Reynolds, /rw^waw at college . Guy Hubbard. P. Homer Sullivaij, />olitician . . . Albert F. Fedel, John J. Crosby, district attorney, running for reelection Stanley Maclnnis. Jimmie, ofifce boy Ertiest Pickett. Howard Calvert, Beverly s little brother . Douglas Addie. Sam, Calvert" s butler Henry D. PovcUL Aunt Hattie, IVm. Seabury s sister , . Benha Sands. Dorothy Seabury, Wm. Seabury s daughter Marion Sawyer. Beverly Calvert, ] f Violet French. Peggy Marshall, V Dorothy s chums . -j Gretchen Rose, Polly Whitney, ] ( Florence Smith, Margaret, servant Grace Lawson. SYNOPSIS Act I. Drawing-room of the Seabury residence. Act n. The district attorney's office, a few months later. Act hi. Same as Act I, one year later. Time. — Present. ^^ Place. — Chicago. ^. 1 1 ^^ Copyright, 191 2, by Orrin E. Wilkins As author and proprietor Professional stage-rights reserved CHARACTERS AND CHARACTERISTICS "The District Attorney" was written especially for amateurs. The author has kept in mind the scenic and stage limitations of the ordinary amateur club. The properties are few and simple, and the costumes such that any group of young people either have or can easily procure. As the play has been produced three times and rewritten twice, all useless and unimportant speeches and parts have been omitted, with the result that each character offers an opportunity limited only by the time and study one is willing to put into it. In view of this the author feels that a word about each character will not be amiss. Margaret. — An ordinary type of servant that is often seen upon the professional stage. Of medium height, about twenty-three years old, courteous in manner and speech. She wears a plain black dress with white tea apron and cap. Wm. Seabury. — A dignified, prepossessing business man of about fifty. Quick in speech and manner and inclined to be rather curt. He is ever aware of the dignity of his position and the power that is his. He is one who is always sure of himself even at his last exit in Act II. He does not show the white feather, but knows exactly what course he is to pursue. In each act he wears a plain dark business suit, adding an overcoat and derby in Act II. Herbert Brownell. — A breezy reporter whose chief business is to get news. He must be quick of speech and portray to his audience that he is able to take advantage of every httle clue or point that will lead up to a newsy story for his paper. On the other hand he must not give the impression that he is bold or forward. He must not be over twenty-five years of age. In Acts I and II he makes a change of ordinary street clothes, adding an over- coat and derby in Act II. In Act III he wears a suit of dark clothes or a dress suit. Aunt Hattie. — A middle-aged woman about forty-five. One who has taken upon herself the duties and responsibilities of the home. She is both aunt and mother to Dorothy and Dick. The character offers a chance to show home love and home ties. She is a sort of go-between for Dick, Dorothy and Mr. Seabury. Her costume in Act I is a neat, simple house dress, and she carries knitting. In Act II, an afternoon walking-suit with hat, gloves and veil. In Act III an evening gown. Dorothy Seabury.— She should be a young lady of athletic build, possessing a stylish appearance, and be pleasing in manner and voice. She is about twenty-five years old and must be able to rise to the occasion in Act I where she describes the football game. In Act I her left arm is in a sling. She wears in Act I a stylish ivi202490 .: f : 9HAkj^iTEk^*«ANa characteristics '* •-• • •• •••••• ,, .*,* •••••• • • house dress ; in Act II a walking-suit with furs, large hat and gloves ; in the first part of Act III an afternoon dress, and in the last part an evening gown. Richard Seabury. — A young man of twenty-one years of age. The world owes him a Uving and he's out to collect it. His idea is that all events that he comes in contact with are arranged for his particular pleasure and ends. He, like all the young men of the play, should be breezy and snappy. Any person who portrays a college character in any but a snappy way deserves the criticism of the audience. His clothes should be of the college cut, em- phasized by bright ties, socks and handkerchiefs. In Acts I and II an ordinary suit, adding in Act II automobile-coat, goggles, hat and gloves. In Act III, a dress suit. Bob Kendrick. — In Act I, a young man without any definite purpose in life other than football. He must be of stocky build, about twenty-six years old, and should be of opposite complexion to the girl lead. After he arouses himself in the latter part of Act I, all his acting must be done in a forceful, determined manner. He is a gentleman and handles his strong scenes and situations with the control born of good breeding. His costumes should be of the styles of Dick's in Act I, with sweater and college paraphernalia and suit-case. In Act II it should give way to a dark business suit, derby and overcoat, and dress suit in Act III. Billy Reynolds.— Pleasingly plump, the fatter the better. He is the butt of all jokes, who takes life as if it was forced upon him and he had to make the best of it. When he speaks of love it is with the fire of a foreigner. At other times he should be slow and deliberate of speech. He wears a walking-suit in Act I, adding automobile-coat, goggles, hat and gloves in Act II, and a dress suit in Act III. Beverly Calvert. — Dorothy's older girl friend. Of Southern birth and about twenty-five years of age. As a Southerner she is always conscious of the dignity of her position and somewhat re- served. She wears in Act I an ordinary walking-suit with hat and gloves. In the first part of Act III, a simple house dress. In last part bride's dress. Peggy Marshall and Polly Whitney. — Dorothy's younger girl friends, about eighteen or nineteen years old, frivolous, whim- sical, impulsive, overrunning with life. Each should be as much like the other as if they were twins. They should be of the same height, build and complexion. Their costumes are such as are suited to their age and temperament ; a Norfolk suit with a waist having frills and laces in Acts I and II, and an evening gown in Act III. P. Homer Sullivan. — About forty-five years of age. He speaks with a slight Irish brogue. He is the boss, and he knows it, and wants everybody else to know it. He should be of good height and build. One who can smoke long and fast, quick, impulsive, almost insulting in his manner, but who pretends to be a gentle- CHARACTERS AND CHARACTERISTICS 5 man. This character is one of the most important in the whole play. His clothes throughout the play can be built loose and loud. A red tie and green vest under a checkered suit is suggested for Act I ; something along the same nature for Act II, with a tall hat and overcoat. In Act III his clothes should be less loud and his manner less offensive. John J. Crosby. — An ordinary type of a disappointed political aspirant. About thirty-two years old, light moustache, of slight build and medium height. While he knows what he wants to do, he is not dead sure of his ground ; particularly is this true in his scenes with SuUivan. Until just before his exit he adds determina- tion to his speech. In Act I he wears a business suit, with change in Act II. JiMMiE. — About sixteen years old. A hard guy, whose chief ambition is dime novels, cigarettes and ball games. He wears a light blouse with short trousers. Howard Calvert. — Beverly's young brother, about ten or twelve years old. Care should be taken not to have this character too old. It is the part of a little boy and should be played as such. He should be bright but not forward. In first part of act he should wear an ordinary school suit, with change in the last part to a dress- up suit. Sam. Calvert's colored butler. A retiring darkey, of middle age, who laughs long and loud. He should use negro dialect and totter when he walks. He wears an ordinary butler's livery. As this is a college play, in Act I college sweaters for the boys, with football suits, flags, pennants and flyers for the girls, will add to the play. "The District Attorney" is different from other plays in that while elaborate scenery, costumes and stage settings add to it the same as to other plays, they are not absolutely essential and must be determined in each individual case by the facilities at hand and the expense to which the producing club wishes to go, the price ranging from twenty dollars when produced in a church to one hundred and thirty dollars at, say, Potter Hall, in Boston. The only property that might cause difficulty is the telephone, which can be borrowed from any telephone company without cost upon application from a telephone subscriber. W Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation ■ http://www.archive.org/details/districtattorneyOOwilkrich The District Attorney ACT I SCENE. — Interior. Well-furnished reception-room with piano. Three openings, L., r. and q. Window between L. and Q, opening. (JDoor-bell at rise of curtain ; Margaret enters L.) Voices (heard off stage'). Northwest University. Rah ! Rah 1 Rah ! Rah ! Northwest University. Rah ! Rah I RAh ! Rah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah I University ! University ! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! (^Door-bell rings. Mar. runs to window. General cheer- ing in the distance.) Mar. Gee ! Look at those boys ; they're starting to cele- brate already. {Walks down stage.) Well they might, for the Northwestern University has got the best team they ever had. Golly, don't I wish I was a man ; I'd work like the old Harry to get on the football team, and if I did, I'd fight like the dickens to make that Michigan crowd look like a bunch of lemons. {Door-bell rings again. Exit Mar., c. Short pause. Mr. Wm. Seabury enters from r., crosses to L. In- terrupted by Mar. at c.) Mr. Seabury, a gentleman to see you. Mr. S. What does he want ? Mar. I don't know, sir ; he wouldn't tell me the nature of the business. Said something you should know about. Mr. S. What is he? A middle-aged man? Mar. No, sir ; young. Quite good looking. Mr. S. Wouldn't tell you what he wanted, eh ? Mar. No, sir. Mr. S. VVell, perhaps you had better show him in. {Exit Mar. Mr. S. goes to window and looks out.) 7 O THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Enter Mar. with Mr. Herbert Brownell, c. Mr. B. Good-morning Mr. Seabury. My name is Brown- ell, Herbert Brownell of the Tribune. I understand a secret indictment has been brought against the Seabury Packing Co. by the grand jury. Mr. S. Well, supposing it has, what has that got to do with you? Mr. B. Nothing, only perhaps the readers of the paper might be interested to know the details of the case. Mr. S. If you want to learn the details of the case why don't you go to the District Attorney? He evidently knows them. Mr. B. Very good suggestion, Mr. Seabury. I have al- ready done that. There is always two sides to a story, and we'd like to hear yours. Mr. S. Supposing I don't choose to give mine? Mr. B. But I believe you do choose. Mr. S. Why ? Mr. B. Because if we publish simply the information we got from the District Attorney's office, namely, that secret mains are laid into your plant by which you steal millions of gallons of the city's water each year, it might look rather bad for you. Surely a word from you at this time would do no harm and might create a public sentiment in your favor that would re- act for your benefit later on. Mr. S. I don't know but what you're right. Sit down. Now tell me exactly what you want to know. {Reporter takes out note-book. Copies notes.) Mr. B. First: You're president of the largest packing company in Chicago, Mr. Seabury? Mr. S. Yes. Mr. B. And the dividends of your corporation have lately been increased to twelve per cent. ? Mr. S. What has that got to do with this indictment ? Mr. B. The public always like to know the financial con- ditions of the corporation involved. Mr. S. Imagine we are making too big profits, eh ? The trouble with the public is, that they don't take into consider- ation what a big corporation, such as ours is, has to go through to bring it up to its present state of development. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 9 Mr. B. Exactly. Your company is the consolidation of five packing houses. Mr. S. Yes. Mr. B. Will you tell me briefly, Mr. Seabury, why the com- panies combined ? Mr. S. Because we were all in the same boat. All of them had the same experience I had. That is, we started out as young men. In my case, I was in for myself when I was twenty-four, fought an up-hill fight against competition and business depressions until I placed my business upon a firm foundation. Competition became keener and keener demand- ing a larger amount of advertising and higher wages. Mr. B. Higher wages caused by the men unionizing. Mr. S. Yes. I was forced with others to combine. We saw that the trusts were wiping out the competitive system, and if we were to keep pace with them we must adopt their tactics and become one of them, which we did. Mr. B. Now, regarding the findings of the grand jury. Is there any truth in them ? Mr. S. None. Absolutely none. (Rises.') It's the at- tempt of the District Attorney to make political material at the expense of the business interests of Chicago. (Rings bell.) You tell your readers for me, Mr. Reporter, that at the proper time and place this matter will be shown up in its true light. (Enter Mar., c.) I brand this whole story as absolutely false. I have given you all the time I can spare now. Margaret will show you out. Mr. B. Thank you very much, Mr. Seabury. You won't regret that you granted me this interview. Good-morning. Mr. S. Good-day. (^a:^««/MR. B. ^zw^Mar., c. Mr. S. goes to 'phone ; calls.) Laselle 4226. I'd like to speak to Mr. Sullivan. This is Seabury. An important matter has just turned up which will interest you. Yes, I'll wait in for you. All right. Good-bye. {Resumes seat by table.) Enter Aunt HATTiE/rom l. Aunt H. William, what is troubling you so? I have noticed for the last six months that you do not seem to be yourself; won't you tell me? Mr. S. There, there, little sister, it's nothing but the stress of business. You know it has increased wonderfully in the last few months. 10 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Aunt H. Yes, I know it has, but there is something more than business troubling you. {JPiaces hands on his shoulders.') Ever since Florence died, I have been mother to Dorothy and companion to you. It is only right that I should bear with you your sorrows as well as your joys. I am sure Dorothy feels the same as I do. Mr. S. Yes, you have been all this to me and more. If there was anything to tell I should take you into my con- fidence. How is Dorothy's arm to-day ? {Hises and walks toward window.) Aunt H. As well as can be expected. The doctor says she cannot go to the game this afternoon, and the poor child's heart is almost broken. I believe she is in the library. I'll call her if you like ? (Mr. S. nods assent. Exit Aunt H., r.) Enter Aunt H., followed by Dorothy Seabury. Mr. S. turns from window and greets Dor. Mr. S. Well, my dear, how are you to-day ? Dor. Quite well, father. It isn't the excitement of the accident or the pain in my arm that is troubling me, but the thought that I will be unable to go to the game. Mr. S. It is such a clear day you can see the game from the window pretty well. Dor. Yes, I know I can. But it isn't like being on the field, hearing the cheering which means so much to the players and makes one's heart throb for victory. Aunt H. Dorothy is a brave girl, and will bear her disap- pointment bravely, I know. Mr. S. Is there anything I can do, dear, to make the day pleasant ? Dor. Yes, father. I've asked two of the boys who are on the team with Dick over to dinner this evening. Billy and Mr. Kendrick. Mr. S. I don't like young Kendrick. Dor. Why ? Mr. S. Oh, he lacks ambition and — determination. In- stead of being out in the world making a name for himself, here he is, after spending three years in a regular college course and two years in the law department, wasting an extra year THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY II simply to play football. {Drops voice.) I do hope there is nothing serious between you and him. Aunt H. Don't be too hasty, William. Dor. {turning aside). He is nothing to me, father. {Turns to Mr. S.) But you must admit he is a fine player. Mr. S. Yes. But ability to play football doesn't count in dollars and cents. Dor. There is more in this world than mere money. {Exeunt Mr. S. and Aunt H. at r. Dor. looks out of window. Enter Richard Seabury at z. Tosses gloves, hat and paper on sofa and sinks in utter despair in chair at side of table. Dor. turning sees DiCK, and cklvances toward him.) Why, Dick, what is the matter ? Dick. You've always found me a decent sort of a fellow, especially when ladies are present, haven't you ? Dor. Why, certainly. Dick. You would at least allow that I had a little balance to my credit as a gentleman ? Dor. Yes. Dick. You never saw me do a jig when the parson was present ? Dor. No. {Sits in chair on opposite side of table.) Dick. Or walk down Dearborn Street on my hands, kick- ing my feet in the air. Dor. What nonsense ! You Dick. Or send out theatre party invitations written in lead pencil. Dor. What are you driving at ? Dick. On the whole {turning in chair and facing Dor.), am I getting by ? Do I make a hit ? What do you think of mc? Dor. {putting arms on Dick's shoulders across table). To be perfectly serious, I think you are the nicest brother a girl ever had. Dick. When I'm invited to dinner do you find it necessary to telephone the host advising him to have me watched so I won't take everything that isn't anchored ? Dor. {laughing aloud ). Why, Dick ! Dick. Will you tell me, then, why it was that when I, as big as a real man, jumped from my car in front of her house, ran up the steps, rang the bell, gave my card to the butler, waited patiently, it was only to find that she wouldn't see me ? Dor. Did she refuse ? 12 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Dick. No. She didn't say she wouldn't see me, but the butler said she was out. (^Ris£s and walks to fireplace.^ Dor. She probably was. Dick. That's what 1 thought when he told me. {Pause ; turns toivard Dor.) Then I went slowly down the steps, hobbled across the sidewalk, fell into the car, started the machine, and hardly traveled a hundred yards when I realized I was — was What is it bees do to persons who torment them? Dor. They sting them. Dick. Yep. That's it. I was stung. Dor. How was that ? Dick. Oh, when I turned around to see if the rear wheels of the car were following the front ones, I saw the lady in ques- tion coming down the steps leaning on the arm of — well, a cheap sport. Dor. Who is this goddess ? Dick. Beverly. Dor. Miss Calvert did that ? There must have been some mistake. Dick. Yes, I'm the mistake. {Pause.) But why wouldn't she see me ? Dor. Perhaps the continuing of your acquaintance was not agreeable to her. Dick. Acquaintance ! You mean friends. Why, Dot 1 Beverly and I have been lifelong friends for — for — almost two weeks. I suppose if Beverly's father knew I was in love with her he'd have me tarred and feathered. Dor. Oh, I guess not. You mustn't be too hard on him. Dick. I'm not his judge. But, according to the news- papers, on some dark night he should charter a steamer, load it up with his coin, have it steam out into the middle of the lake and when no one is looking drop the "mazuma" over- board. Dor. The newspapers always assume that large fortunes are made dishonestly. In our father's case Dick. Oh, our father. His money is in ; and came out of the packing business. People have got to eat. What is more heroic than supplying a large portion of the world with part of its food ? I mean those fellows who made their money over- night in land-grab schemes, race-tracks, bucket shops, or some other swindling game. But here's one of the stocks "Pa" Calvert doesn't vote on. I'm going to have Beverly. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY I3 Dor. What does slie say about it ? Dick. I haven't asked her yet. But I know she loves me, because I'm just crazy about her. Dor. How do you reconcile this statement with your recent cold reception ? Dick. There's something behind that. I don't know what it is and I don't care. Beverly is as good as won. Even if she were confined in some castle of medieval days, built on an island in some isolated lake, surrounded by the pick of Napoleon's army, it would make no difference. I would draw my sword, engage in a hand-to-hand conflict with the ** Old Guard," and after I had conquered them swim to the island, storm the castle, rescue Beverly, and deal with the castle's defenders as becomes a victor. You see it's my move, and I want to play the game so's to win. Of course you'll help me. Dor. Help you ? How ? You know she is my chum and will probably call on me some time to-day. (^Rises.) Dick. Yes, I know. But why can't you arrange for a little theatre party some evening next week? You and Beverly may be the guests and I'll be the protector. Dor. It's entirely out of the question. I — I — why, I can't. Dick. Oh, help a fellow. Just this once, won't you? That's the way with sisters. Never want to give their little brothers a helping hand. They sit back and grin at him and let him fight it out the best way he can. Just this once ? Dor. I won't promise, but I'll do the best I can. Dick. That's the girl. I knew you would if I teased long enough. I tell you. Dot, love Enter Mar., c. door. Mar. This way, gentlemen. Enter Bob Kkndrick and Billy Reynolds, carrying suit* cases. Get stuck in door. Billy. You go first, Bob, and I'll proceed you. (^Both place suit-cases at right of door. Throw sweaters on suit- cases.) Dor. Hello, Bobby I (Bob nods acknowledgment. Exit Mar. ) Bob. Is your courage good, Dick? 14 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY ( Crosses and shakes hands with Dick. ) Dick. High-water mark. Full to overflowing. Just wait- ing to get at them. (Bob crosses to Dor. Billy shakes hands with Dick, then walks over and stands behind Bob.) Bob (to Dor.). How's that naughty little arm? Is the doctor going to let you go to the game ? Dor. I'm afraid not. His royal highness, Dr. Grey {rais- ing right arm)f issued a decree that I shall not leave the house to-day. Isn't that just my luck? I have looked forward to this game for so long, and was going with the jolliest bunch of girls. Now all I'll see of the game is from a stupid old window. {Stamps foot.) Billy {shaking hands with himself). I am pleased to meet myself, thank you. Dor. Oh, my poor Billy. I didn't mean to overlook you. You'll forgive me ? (Bob crosses to r. and talks with Dick.) Billy. I'll think it over and let you know later. Dor. If you feel as fine as you look you ought to give a good account of yourself in Dick. Oh, he'll give a good account of himself, won't he, Bob? Bob. He ought to after that private interview with the coach. Dor. Did he give you a scolding, Billy? Billy. He had a little friendly advice in one hand, and my walking ticket in the other, and it was up to me to draw. Dor. What is it the coach says to the team between the halves which puts so much life into them ? Bob. Ask Billy. He knows. Billy. Ask the coach ; perhaps he'll give you a private lesson. Dor. Billy ! Dick. Bob's got Billy's lecture down pat. He was reciting it up in the room the other night. Hey, Bill ? Billy. Oh, it was a pretty good imitation, with emphasis on the imitation. Dor. Let's hear it, Bob. Bob. It wouldn't be just right to Billy, THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 1$ Billy. Awl Sure, go ahead, if you like. I'm always getting it rubbed into me. Guess I can stand it. (^Clears the rootn for the professor. Pulls table back a little way and moves chairs back a little way. Dor. sits on piano stooly Billy in chair j Dick on divan.') Bob (with plenty of action). Well, seeing you want to hear it so bad. You'll have to stretch your imagination a bit. The scene is the interior of the dressing-room. {Goes down R. front of stage.) One of those wooden buildings made from matched boards, lockers on one side, a few long benches on the other, a couple of windows and a door. Outside a mighty cheer rends the air ; the first half is over. (Slow.) The team files in. (Pathos.) Each member of it a picture of despair. Some of the fellows lie flat on their backs. Some drop on the benches. Others lean against the walls. (Low voice.) There is a low hum of voices until Parker — he's the coach — comes in and slams the door. He faces the team like a lion at bay. Then follows something like this (plenty of action) : "Every one of you men get down on your back. If I have told you fellows once, I've told you a hundred times to cut out your smoking. That's all the good it did. Every one of you is panting like a locomotive. You fellows cut out your smoking, or some of the subs will be put in. What's the results? The first half is over and they've scored six points. (Points to im- aginary player on floor.) You shut up that noise and listen. (Pause.) Jones, what's the matter with you ? You're way up in the air and slow as a freight train. In fact, the whole team is rotten on the start. Time and again they've got the jump on you and made anywhere from ten to fifteen yards. (Sar- castically.) Turner, you're the poorest quarter-back I ever saw, not using any head work. (Pats head.) You call for your plays like an old woman. The whole team is going to pieces under you. Didn't I tell you that when you had the ball inside your own twenty-yard line to kick ? You've been doing everything but that. I'll start you in the second half, and if you don't play good ball you're coming out. When you're in- side your own twenty-yard line, kick, kick, kick. When in the centre of the field use your onside kicks, fake plays and forward passes. You do some work, hard work ; get that ball inside their thirty-yard line. Try between left guard and tackle. Use your tandem formation with plenty of ginger. If you make the distance slam them again. (Sarcastic.) Billy, l6 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY the first thing I want you to do is to get that bunch of skirts out of your mind and stop trying to make grand-stand plays. Look at your face; pretty sight, isn't it? Their centre is put- ting it all over you. He gets the jump on you and blocks our plays. If you don't play the game of your life this next half (^pausing, shaking fist in Billy's face) I'll break your neck. As a team you're not working together ; you've all got your minds on some feminine beauty. 1 want you fellows to get together and do a little team work, play low and slam that line hard. Listen for your signals, and when you get them start. You backs stick to your interference. I want you fel- lows to go out and play a hard, fast, consistent game. Quarter- back, you find their weak spot and you pound it, slam it, punch it, and when you get tired pound it some more. Whatever you do, go out there and win. My last word to you, Billy, is to forget the girl and play football. That's all." (Bob sits on couch. Applause from Dick and Billy.) Dor. Do you boys have to stand all that ? Dick. That's what puts the life into us. Billy. Yep, that's right. {Picks up his sweater and suit- case.) Show us where we are going to dress, Dick, and we will get the cases out of the way. Come on, Bob. Bob {picking up sweater and suit-case). You'll excuse us, won't you, Dorothy? Dor. Certainly. Dick. We're going up to the room now, and if we should return during our absence, just hold us here until we get back. {Exeunt, at r., Billy, Bob and Dick. Dor. resumes seat at piano and plays softly.) Enter Mar., c. Mar. Miss Calvert is in the reception-room. Dor. Will you show her in here, Margaret, please ? (Exit Mar., c. Enter UIkvl., followed by Beverly Calvert, /r^wc.) Hello, Beverly. It's nice of you to come to see me before the game. Come over here and talk to me. (Dor. and Bev. sit on divan.) Bev. I feel so sorry you will not be able to go with us. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 1 7 Oh, by the way, you remember Bernice Carter, who was at Welleslcy with us ? Dor. You don't mean Bernice Carter, the man-hater ? Bev. The very same. While on my way up here I met her, and what do you think? She's engaged. Dor. Engaged I Bev. {nodding head). He gave her the nicest diamond I believe I ever saw. (^Rises.) He's tall, broad-shouldered, has light hair, blue eyes, and is quite an athlete. I believe she said he was a Yale man. (Sits down.) Isn't it strange that just as soon as class-day is over all the girls announce their engage- ments, one right after the other ? I suppose you will be the next? Dor. Me ! Why, Beverly, who would want an old maid like me, who is cross and crabbed and as ugly as can be ? In a few years the tabbys will be calling me their friend. Bev. (edging up to Dor.). Oh, Dorothy, you don't mean that ? You're just out of college. Why, last year at this time we were studying our hardest trying to pass exams, and cram- ming for all we were worth. Oh, but I've some fine news. Father told us this morning that we would stay in Chicago this winter instead of going South as we first intended. So you see we will still be together. Dor. I'm so glad. I was afraid you would winter at Palm Beach. And you know Palm Beach is where all the pretty young girls fall in love. Bev. I guess I'll never fall in love. I haven't any use for a man. Oh, yes, I have, too — father was going to take mother and me to the opera to-night, but he has been called to New York and must catch the five o'clock train. So you see mother and I are looking for a man. Dor. Perhaps my brother Dick could accommodate you? Bev. Do you believe he would ? (Bob appears in doorway.) Dor. I'll ask him if you like ? Bkv. No. Perhaps I had better do that. (Bob coughs in doorway, r. Dor., turning, sees Bob; both girls rise.) Dor. Oh, Bob, I want you to meet a college friend of mine. Miss Calvert, Mr. Kendrick. l8 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Bob. I am glad to meet you, Miss Calvert. Bev. I have heard Dorothy speak of you so often that I feel as if I had known you for a long time. Dor. Why, Beverly ! Bob. I hope you only heard the best reports about me ? Bev. Just the nicest Dor. Now you cut that out. (Dor. leads Bev. to window ; they talk in undertone. Bob in quandary. Suddenly has an idea. Goes to right en- trance and whistles. Dick whistles off stage.) Enter Dick, r. Bob. Didn't I hear you raving in your sleep last night about Beverly Calvert ? {Short pause.) She's over there. Dick {looking around room). Where? {Indifferently.) Oh, yes, I see. Bob. Supposing you go over and talk to her. Dick. Nope. I'm bashful. Bob {slapping Dick on back). Oh, get out. Take her out for a nice little stroll and show her the grounds. Help a fellow out, won't you ? (Dick and Bob move down centre stage.) Dick. Well, I'll tell you, Bob, I don't care anything about taking a walk, but seeing — er — that, well, you want me to, I suppose I'll have to accommodate you. Remember, I'm doing this not because I want to, but just to help you out. So when I come around looking for a favor I'll expect to get it. You swear ? Bob {raising right hand). I do. Dick {very bashfully). Good-morning, Miss Calvert. (Bev. advances and shakes hands with Dick.) Bev. How do you do, Mr. Seabury ? I am sorry I was out when you called. {Bob joins Dor. at window. Dick and Bev. move down stage.) Dick. Out — oh, that's all right. Sister was telling me you were interested in dogs. I have the finest litter of pups you ever saw. Wouldn't you like to see them ? THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 1 9 Bev. Yes, indeed I would. You won't mind, will you, Dorothy ? Dor. Certainly not. Dick {to Bev., while going off stage ate). There's one lit- tle brindle fellow with the cutest little screw tail and white stockinged paws you ever saw \^Exeunt. Bob. I can hardly realize that we are at last alone. Dor. But we are. {Walk toward divan.) Bob. Yes ! All this morning up till now I felt as though I was living in some other world. Everything seemed so strange, as though I was in some sort of a trance. I don't know what it was unless it was love. When I saw you I suddenly seemed to come to myself and realized what a beautiful place this earth really Dor. You're a mighty nice boy, Bobby ; now sit down and behave and don't talk nonsense. {Both sit on divan.) Bob. That's what you tell me every time I make love to you. Dor. Then you shouldn't make love to me. Why, you're not even out of college yet. Bob. I wish you would take me seriously. Dor. How can I take you seriously when you are anything but serious ? I wish you would cut college and start a law prac- tice and do things. There's Henry Chandler, just your age, who has a law practice of several thousand dollars a year. Bob (rising). What do I need to practice law for ? ( Walks to left of stage in meditation, and returns.) I have more money now than I can ever spend {sitting down), unless you help me. {Puts arms around Dor.) If you only knew how I love you. (Dor. reluctantly pushes Bob away.) I went out into the Rockies this summer thinking that with Dick and Bill 'way out there on the mountains I could forget you, and lose myself in nature. But I was just the same as I am now, always thinking of you. It seemed as if all nature was in a conspiracy to remind me of you. The rocks on the mountainsides seemed to work their jagged forms into the outline of your name. The little birds as they chirped their happy songs seemed to sing it. The universe Dor. (interrupting). Bobby, stop that foolishness. This makes the fifth time you have proposed to me, and I have told you every time that the man I marry must have more to offer me than love or money. He must be one who, if every cent of his money was lost in a day, could go out into the world and 20 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY make a living for himself and me. The last time you spoke to me about this you promised that when you came back from your vacation you would go into your father's business, and in time take charge of it. Bob {rising and moving toward centre of stage). Yes, I know I did. If you knew how hard Ruggles, the captain of the team, plead for me to come back to college this fall and play, you wouldn't blame me. {Returns; stands behind divan.) After a man has been in college a few years he gets the spirit, you know what I mean, the college spirit, and he will do any- thing for his Alma Mater. But just as soon as the football season is over I'll leave college and start in father's law office. I don't know anything about the office business, but I don't see why it shouldn't go straight on as it always has. Dor. {toying with a piece of ribbon). Possibly ; but I im- agine your father expected you to have rather a difficult time of it. Perhaps he wanted you to, so that a defeat or two will sting you into having a little more serious purpose in life than you have at present. Bob. If I could only remember my promises I think I would get along better. Some one asks me to play polo, toss a ball or some other thing, and my good resolutions go to the winds. I have it ! Tie that piece of ribbon on my finger, and see if I can remember over night. Dor. {rising). Oh, you silly boy ! Well, if it will help you any, I'll humor you. {Ties ribbon on finger of Bob's left hand.) Bob {taking Dor.'s hands in his). If I go in and make a success of the business, will you marry me ? Dor. This makes the sixth time, but you never can tell. Bob {embracing Dor.). I'm going to seal that with a kiss. (Dor. screams and struggles.) Aunt H. {looking for Dor., calls for her off right of stage). Dorothy ! Dor. Yes, Auntie. Enter Aunt H., at R. Aunt H. Good-morning, Mr. Kendrick. I hope you are feeling well ? Bob {nervous). Very well, thank you. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 21 Aujrr H. I suppose you are so full of football that you have been telling Dorothy the outcome of to-day's game? Bob {very nervous). Yes. Oh, yes, yes. I have been telling her tliat we are going to beat them to a jelly. That is -— er — I should have said, we anticipate a victory. (^Gains confidence.') You see, we have most of last year's team back, and have got the bulliest coach a team ever had. (^Full of confidence.) I don't believe there is a single thing about the game that that man doesn't know. Knows it from A to Z. Just like a book. Enter DiCK arid Bev., «/c., arm in arm, Bev. I think they are just the cutest puppies I ever saw. (Bob crosses and talks to Dor.) Dick. That's 'cause they're mine. Bev. (Jo Aunt H.). Good-morning, Miss Seabury. Aunt H. Good-morning. I suppose Dick has been show- ing you his dogs ? Bev. Yes; I think they are just lovely. (21? Dick.) But wasn't the mother cross? Dick. You bet. She thought by the way you cuddled up the little fellow that you would want it. Bev, You're going to give him to me when he gets a little older, aren't you ? Dick. Yes, I guess so, seeing that he will have such a fine mistress. {To audience.). Golly! Don't I wish I was that pup. Enter Billy, r. Billy {angrily). You're the hottest fellows I ever saw, to beat it off and leave me alone in the pool-room. {To Dor.) What do you think of these fellows, Dorothy? We were hav- ing a game of pool. Bob excuses himself, then Dick goes off to find Bob, and neither of them comes back. I've read a couple of magazines all through waiting for them to return and finish the game. But I guess those fellows are playing some other game than pool. {Door-bell rings.) Bob {crossing and slapping Billy on back). Come, Billy, cheer up. You know what the coach said about being dis- heartened before a game. Dick. Quit teasing Billy ; you'll make him peevish. 22 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Mar. (entering at c). Miss Peggy Marshall, Miss Polly Whitney. Enter Peggy Marshall and Polly Whitney. Dick {advancing to meet theni). Look who's here. Greet- ings. Peg. Hello, Dick ! Dor. Hello, girls ! I didn't think you would forget me in my misery. Pol. You know us better than that, Dorothy, don't you ? Peg. Well, I should think you ought to. Dor. Yes, I do. You've met every one here, I believe, except Billy. Dick. Billy, mother wants you. (Billy advances.') Dor. Let me make you acquainted with Peggy Marshall — Billy. Peg. I am pleased to meet you. Billy. Charmed. Dor. Miss Polly Whitney— Billy. Billy. Dee-lighted ! Pol. Thank you. ( General laugh. Billy takes both by arms and leads them to divan y sitting between them. General stage talk be- tween others in group.) Billy. You know, I knew I was going to meet you girls this afternoon. Pol. Indeed ! Peg. How's that ? Billy. You see, I went to a fortune-teller the other day and she said some time within five, and to-day is the fourth day, I would make the acquaintance of two of the most charm- ing ladies I had ever met. Peg. Really ? Pol. How strange ! Why, you don't believe in fortune- tellers, do you ? Billy. Not in all they say, but once in a while they do hit a nail on the head. Course, if I was foolish enough to believe it all, I ought to get hit on the head. Peg. And pray tell us, Bill — I mean Mr. Reynolds, what would this team do for a centre this afternoon ? THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 23 Pol. I guess he never thought of that. Maybe the fortune- teller told him some way out. Billy. Are you girls kidding me ? Peg. No, I am not, and I know Polly never does. Bob {looking at ivatcK). Say, fellows, it's half- past twelve. Hadn't we better be getting into our togs ? Billy. Guess we had if we don't want to be sat on. Dick. Oh, you'll be sat on all right. Billy. There you go, picking on a little fellow like me. (Dick and Bob start for r. exit.) Bev. I want you boys to give a good account of yourselves. Aunt H. I'm sure they will. Dor. Remember I'm going to watch the game from the window. {Sits on couch.') Billy [standing with Peg. and Pol.). I'm awfully pleased to have met you girls, and I hope that fortune will smile favor- ably on me in the future — (under breath) and other young ladies — {aloud) and that I shall see you often. Peg. Fortune is a very funny person ; it's hard to win her favor. I hope you boys as a team don't meet her daughter, Miss Fortune, for we want you to win. Pol. Yes, and so do I, for I lose a pound of Huyler's if you don't. Billy. Do you really want me — I mean us, to win ? Peg. Of course. Pol. Yes. Billy. Then it's settled we win ; you just watch us. Now, all together, one good big cheer for the Northwestern Uni- versity. Northwestern University. Rah! Rah! Rah! Rah! Northwestern University. Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Rah I Hurrah ! Hurrah ! University, University. Rah ! Rah ! Rah 1 (£xeunf af R.f Dick, Billy and Bob.) Dor. If the boys keep that spirit up they will win. Aunt H. What great difference does it make whether they do or not ? Bev. What ! Why, of course you don't mean that, Miss Seabury ? You are just as anxious to see them win as we are, now aren't you ? 24 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Aunt H. I guess I am. Peg. I wish you were going along with us, Dorothy. Polly and I have an extra seat that you could use just as well as not. Pol. I guess if Dorothy was going she wouldn't be sitting with us girls. Dor. Don't judge me too harshly. Remember I have got to stay at home and watch the game from the window. Bev. I suppose accidents will happen, only I wish it was after the game instead of before. Dor. So do I, but then I can see fairly well from here. Remember you girls have got to cheer for me because they can't hear me. Peg. We had better be going, Polly. We won't have any too much time as it is. Perhaps you will come along with us, Beverly ? Bev. Thanks. I don't know but what I will. Good-bye, Miss Seabury. Aunt H. Good-bye, girls. I hope you will enjoy your- selves. Pol. You bet we will. Peg. I never went to a game but what I enjoyed it. Bev. Everybody does. Good-bye. (All exeunt at c. Aunt H. goes to the window.) Enter Mr. S., at l. Mr. S. What was all that noise and howling about I heard a few minutes ago ? Aunt H. That was the young people giving one of their college yells. Mr. S. It seems to me they made a good deal of noise. {Walks down stage with hands in trousers pockets.) V\\ be glad when the football season is over. I've heard football morning, noon, and night, for the last three weeks, and I'm sick and tired of it. Dor. (entering at c). Why, what is the matter, father? Mr. S. I was just speaking my mind about this crazy foot- ball nonsense. If these young fellows instead of chasing a ball up and down the field, piling on top of one another, and seeing how much pounding a man can stand without being killed, would only use the same amount of energy, ambition and de- termination in business, what a wonderful world this would be. Aunt H. All you think of, William, is business. lExitj at R. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 25 Enter Mar., at c, followed by P. Homer Sullivan. Mar. Mr. P. Homer Sullivan is SuL. {interrupting). Right here. \Exit Mar. Mr. S. Good-morning, Mr. Sullivan. SuL. I got here just as soon as I could after I received your message. Mr. S. My daughter Dorothy, Mr. Sullivan. SuL. I'm pleased to meet you. Enter Mar. Mar. Miss Dorothy, your aunt would like to see you in the library. Dor. Will you excuse me ? Both. Certainly. \_Exeunt Dor. and Mar., c. SuL. Kind of funny, Seabury, isn't it, that your daughter should be thrown from one of the cars of our Terminal Company ? Mr. S. Sh ! not so loud. {Pulls down window.) Some one might overhear. {Pulls down curtain and closes door.) SuL. Now, to get down to business, what's up ? Mr. S. Crosby has been converted to the paths of right and duty and has summoned me to court. SuL. Damn Crosby ! I knew we would have trouble with him. I just left the young cur down at the Westwood. He was as snorty as a young pup. We might as well clean this thing up first as last. Where's your 'phone? Mr. S. Over there by the window. SuL. Hello! Give me Main 9005 Westwood? Will you look in the dining-room and see if you can find Mr. John J. Crosby there. I left him at the table near the Green Street window Never mind who it is. Just tell him some- body wants to talk to him. (Short pause.) I tell you, Seabury, this thing Hello, Crosby. This is Sullivan. I'm up at Seabury 's. I want you to come up here at once What's that ? What do I want ? Never mind what 1 want. You come up here at once. {Slams receiver down.) Mr. S. Is he coming ? SuL. Coming? Well, I guess he is, if he knows what's good for him. Mr. S. Supposing he don't? SuL. Never mind supposing. Seabury, we're in a devil of a hole. If Crosby gives us the shake now the game is up. 26 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Mr. S. What game ? SuL. Why, everything, so far as I'm concerned, and you, too. Why, he was old man Kendrick's private secretary, and he knows all about the graft and crooked work in the Terminal Company. He's got to keep his mouth shut. Mr. S. What did you ever support him in the first place for? SuL. For two reasons. Kendrick wanted somebody for District Attorney who wouldn't bother the Terminal Company, and Crosby's friend Finkelstein wanted him to run. The Jew put up a rare campaign fund for Crosby with the understand- ing that we run him on the Republican ticket. Mr. S. How was it the Democratic boss helped to support a Republican ? SuL. The Republicans haven't been doing much in my dis- trict in the last few years. Now Doyle, the alderman from the ward, was to come up for reelection the next year. The chances were that without the Republicans' help an Independ- ent would have been elected. So I supported Crosby on the Republican ticket. In return for this the Republicans agreed not to put up a candidate for alderman the following year. Mr. S. Why, you didn't support him openly? SuL. No, we started a young men's Republican associa- tion, and had the rich brewer's best beer by the hogshead, and fireworks, and speeches, and plenty of money. We elected Crosby, and had some of the money left over to elect our man this year with. Mr. S. Are you sure of your ward this coming election ? SuL. Well, I ought to. I can call every man in the ward by his first name, and I know how many are in his family. I can tell within one per cent, of what the vote of my ward will be. Efiter John J. Crosby, c, in an excited manner. Cros. What the devil do you mean by commanding me to come up here when I was dining with a party of friends ? SuL. Crosby, Sherman said, " War is hell," but war won't be anything to what is going to take place between you and J, if you don't cut out this reform business. Mr. S. What do you mean by summoning me to court? SuL. You keep quiet, Seabury ; I guess I can run this man. Cros. Run me? Ha! You're up against the stiffest proposition you ever tackled. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 2; SUL. Wliat are you sore about ? Ckos. Sore? I'm not sore, but I'm sick and tired of this dirty, rotten, political corruption. Tired of graft. Tired of being bossed by you. SuL. What's the idea of the summons? Mr. S. That's what I'm trying to find out. Ckos. You'll find out when you get into court. Is this what you gentlemen called me here for ? SuL. No. I called you here to tell you that unless you cut out this Sunday-school reform movement I'll withdraw my sup- port and defeat you in the coming election. Cros. Oh, that's the idea. Withdraw your support if you like ; I'll run and be elected without it. (Crosses to l.) Mr. S. Don't be a fool. You know you can't be elected without Sullivan's support. SuL. Run alone. You'll get about twenty votes. Now, Crosby, I want you to understand me. You withdraw this summons, and stand true to your friends, or by the gods we'll have war to the end. I've dealt with such men as you before. Look at Fitzpatrick, Doyle, Connelly, and even my own cousin, Tim Sullivan. Every one of them had gone as high as you have when they got it into their heads they were the whole show. Look at them now ; every one of them is down and out. I tell you I'm the whole show. A nice story we can make of your dealings with the Terminal Company, The graft as you call it. This world is full of graft, and if you don't get in on it some other fellow will. Think of the chances of making a name and a position for yourself you are throwing away. Mr. S. Yes, you don't realize who Sullivan is, and what he can do for you. Cros. {at table). What Sullivan is ? Oh, I know what Sullivan is. Patrick Homer Sullivan is a politician, and Chi- cago is owned by politicians. Twice a year the dear little pub- lic march to the ballot box and kid themselves that they are electing their city government, but that is a bluff and a sham ; you, and men like you, are the ones that rule Chicago. I realize your power. I know you have campaign funds at your disposal; you've got the machine at your back, and there is nothing you would hesitate to do to accomplish your end, even bribery. That's our |X)litics, and I am through with it from that angle. {Rises and goes toward door.) No njatter what I have been in the past even if it is your tool. Hereafter I will be no man's man ; I'll appeal to the people. My future is still 28 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY before me. Withdraw your support if you like ; I'll run just the same and be elected, pledged to the people for their interest. Good-day, gentlemen. [Exit^ c. Mr. S. Looks as if I'd go to court. SuL. Don't worry about that now. Your lawyer will put that off until after the election. Mr. S. What good will that do? You admit that Crosby is strong, and has a good chance of being reelected. SuL. Yes, he is strong, but he won't be reelected if I can help it. Mr. S. Who's the Democratic nominee for District At- torney ? SuL. Danny Murray, Seabury. Will you support him? He's just the kind of a man we want, and say, we'll work the wedge on Crosby. Mr. S. What do you mean by the wedge ? SuL. Run an Independent Republican, and split Crosby's vote. Mr. S. Where are you going to get him ? SuL. Go looking for him. He won't come to us. We've got to have some young fellow who is a good talker and a good mixer ; some one who has money — enough so they won't say he is after the graft. Mr. S. How would Wellington do ? SuL. He's too strong a man. He might get elected. We couldn't control him. Mr. S. There's Arthur Crawford. SuL. He is a silk stocking sport, and wouldn't mix with the crowd. We've got to have some one who is popular. I was thinking of young Kendrick. Mr. S. Why, he is in college, and never tried a case in his life. SuL. He's a member of the bar, isn't he? Mr. S. Yes ; but what will the people think ? SuL. Think ! the people don't think. Kendrick {hitting table) is our man. Can I reach him by 'phone? Mr. S. No, he is playing in the game to-day. He'll be back here after the game. He and his friend always dress up in Dick's room so as to have the benefit of the showers. You know there aren't any at the grounds. SuL. He'll be back here pretty quick, won't he? Mr. S. I imagine in about half or three quarters of an hour. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 29 Enter Aunt H., r. Aunt H. How do you do, Mr. Sullivan ? William, Dor- othy has been waiting to see the game from this window. Mr. S. Oh, yes, I forgot. Supposing we go down to the smoking-room and talk this over, Sullivan ? SuL. All right. \_Exeunt, R. Aunt H. {going to door). Dorothy ! Dor. Yes. Aunt H. Mr. Sullivan and your father have gone to the smoking-room, so you can come in here if you wish to. Enter Dor., r. Dor. Oh, I can see ever so much better here. Aunt H. Who is winning the game ? Dor. 'Tisn't over yet. They're pretty well along in the second half. And neither side has scored. Aunt H. What are they doing now ? Dor. Just exchanging punts. The University has just kicked to Michigan. One of their backs is waiting to catch it. He's got it. There he goes. Dick's waiting to tackle him. Oh, he missed. He's got by two or three other men. There's Billy. Oh, get him, Billy. Hurrah I Auntie, they've got the ball on our forty-yard line. Aunt H. Does that mean they are winning ? Dor. Our team holding them. Oh, if they could hold them like that every time. Aunt H. Don't they get penalized for holding ? Dor. Not that kind. The boys have thrown them for a loss, and Michigan has got to kick. Yes, and they're going to, too. Their guard has dropped back. He must be their punter. He's got the ball. He's not kicking. It's a forward pass. He's gone to the right of the line and thrown it to their end. The ends have got it. Why don't you men tackle him? He's gone through the whole team. No, there's our quarter- back ; he's got him. Aunt H. Where are they now ? Dor. They're on our fifteen-yard line. They are lining up again. Why, it looks as if they are going to punt. Oh, they're trying to kick a goal. They've kicked. Oh, it's over, it's over, it's over. Auntie, they've got five points. Only five or six minutes to play. We can't score in that time; the game is lost, the game is lost. 30 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Aunt H. (rising). Why, Dorothy, this isn't a matter of life and death. It's only a game of football. We can't win all the time. Dor. I know, but think how bad the boys will feel. Dick and Bob. They're at it again. Our boys are first receiving their kick off. It dropped right in Bob's hands. They're forming the wedge. Fine interference, fine. There they go. Oh, they've made twenty yards. He's left his interference. A man tackles Bobby, by Fine, fine. He's on his feet, and is still. Faster, Bobby, faster. He's down, no, he's up again. Go on, goon, hurry, hurry. They're after you, there's a man right behind you. Their quarter-back is waiting to tackle. Oh, dodge him, dodge him. Bob gave him the straight arm. Go on, go on. Only five yards to gain. Speed, speed. Oh, it's over, Auntie, it's over. Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Just in time, for the referee has blown his whistle, six to five. Aunt H. Well, it's over. I'm so glad. Enier Sul. andliK. S., R. SUL. It's just as I tell you, Seabury, just as I tell you. Dor. Dick has kicked a goal ; we've won, six to five. {Tdephone rings.) Aunt H. Hello. Yes, this is Mr. Seabury's residence. Just a minute, and I'll see William, Mr. Phinney is on the line and wants to know if you are in ? Mr. S. Tell him I'm out. Aunt H. I never told a lie in my life, and I don't intend to begin now. You'll have to answer it yourself. Mr. S. Sullivan, will you answer that for me ? Sul. (answering * phone). Mr. Seabury has just left for his club ; you can probably reach him there. Good-bye. Enter Dick and Bob., c, helping Billy. Billy (sitting in morris chair). I'm not hurt, and no bones are broken, but I'm badly twisted. Aunt H. This carpet will be ruined with all this mud; shoo fly, shoo fly. {^Exeunt, Dick, Billy, Bob and Aunt H., r. Mr. S. Just a minute, Mr. Kendrick ; let me make you ac- quainted with Mr. Sullivan. Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Kendrick. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 3 1 Bob. I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Sullivan. I often heard my father speak of you. SuL. Yes, I did know your father slightly. You are probably aware, Mr. Kendrick, that I am somewhat interested in our city politics. In the coming election, I have been look- ing for a man to nominate for District Attorney. After look- ing over a number of available men, without finding any of them qualified to fill the position, I turned to Mr. Seabury to see if he could suggest some one, and he suggested you. Bob. Me ? Mr. S. Yes. If Mr. Sullivan succeeds in having you nominated for the office, will you accept and run ? Bob. District Attorney ! As you must know, Mr. Sullivan, I am still at college. To be sure I am a member of the bar, but I never tried a case in my life. I'm interested in athletics and I promised the captain of the team I'd stay in college until after the season is over. I thank you for your ofi'er, Mr. Sullivan, but {Looks at hand and sees ribbon^ then looks at Dor.) I'll accept. Mr. S. I'm glad you accepted, Kendrick. Bob. Of course, if I'm elected I will serve, to the best of my ability, the people who elected me. Mr. S. What ! SuL. Of course you will. Of course I would not have you do anything else. If you will pardon me, I will be going on my way. Good -afternoon. Miss Seabury. I'll be up to see you to-night. Bob {to Mr. S.). The most important thing of all. [Exeunt Mr. S. and Sul., c. Dor. I'm so glad, Bobby. CURTAIN ACT II SCENE.— 77/^ District Attorney's office, JiMMiE {sitting in chair ^ tilted back^ with his feet upon desk^ reading aloud dime novels with a red cover). *' Dead shot Pete stole stealthily upon the Indian encampment, and there the sight which met his gaze was enough to freeze an ordinary man's blood. The Indians had beautiful Mary tied to a tree, while they were engaged in their fiendish war dance. Did Dead shot Pete hesitate ? Not he. Placing his knife between his teeth, and gripping a ninety-six caliber revolver in each hand, he rushed into their midst to do or die. With the first discharge of his artillery, ten of the fifteen Indians dropped dead in their tracks. Taking one of the remaining five by the ankles, and swinging him around his head as a club, he sent four of the five to the Happy Hunting Grounds. Clinching with the last redskin, he sent his soul to the Great Spirit. It was but the work of an instant to cut the ropes which held the beautiful Mary." Enter Dick and Billy at R. Billy. What are you doing, kid ? Studying law ? Jim. (^Jumping up from seat and putting book under coat), Naw ! History. Dick. Does the District Attorney happen to be in ? Jim. No, sir. Not yet ; expect him any minute. Billy. Yes, you looked a moment ago as if you did. (Billy sits down by desk very quiet and thoughtful.) Jim. Well, I've got to do something to kill time. There ain't any Injuns around here to kill. Dick. If you don't mind. Diamond Dick Jr., we'll wait until Mr. Kendrick comes in. Jim. {going out r.). All right, I don't care. Dick. I wonder what makes Bob so late this morning ? I understand he is usually here long before this. {Stops ; looks at Billy.) Say, what's the matter with you ? 32 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 33 Billy. Nothing ! Dick. Well, what makes you so quiet ? Anything wrong ? Billy. Yep. Dici; (sii/ifi^ dowti). What ? Billy. Nothing in particular. Dick. Something is wrong, but it is not particular. What is it, then ? Billy. I didn't say it wasn't. — Yes, I do too; guess I'm a little mixed up. What I need is a little advice. Dick. Advice ! Billy. Yes, advice. Anything out of the ordinary in ask- ing for advice? Dick. No. Asking for advice is all right, but why do you ask me ? Billy. I've got to ask somebody. If I don't, I'll bust. Dick. Well, I'm not a patented, automatic advice giving machine, but the best I have is at your service. Billy {without looking up). Thanks. {Pause.) Dick. What do you want to know ? Billy. You see these pictures. {Takes two pictures from coat.) Dick {giving over to Billy). What are they pictures of? Billy. Houses, dogs, cats, horses, automobiles, any old thing. They're not pictures of girls, oh, no. Just pictures of two charming young ladies, understand ? Dick. Yes, I understand, but there's no need of getting huffy about it. Billy. I'm not huffy. I'm excited. Can you keep a secret ? (Dick nods assent.) I'm in love. Dick. With the pictures ? Billy. The pictures nothing. The girls. Dick. You don't mean you're in love with both of them — Miss Whitney and Miss Marshall ? Billy. That's the situation. I don't call them ' Miss ' though. Just Peggy Whitney and Polly Marshall. Peggy and Polly for short. Dick. Hold on a minute ; see if I've got this thing clear. Oh, you mutton head, you don't mean to tell me you're in love with both girls ? Billy. Yep. That's the story. When I'm with Peggy, I'm in love with her, and when I'm with Polly, I'm in — well, 34 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY my lieart goes like this {thumping heart), and my head is one continuous merry-go-round. Say — how am 1 going to fix it? Dick. Fix it. Fix what ? Billy. What are we talking about ? How am I going to get out of it ? I don't mean that. How am I going to get into it? Say, on the level, Dick, I've got it bad. Dick. Well — I — should — say you had. And they're both in love with you ? Billy. How do I know ? Dick. Why don't you ask them? Billy. Ask them ? That would be a fine thing to do. Suppose they should both accept? Do you think I'm a Mormon ? Dick. I'd hate to tell you what I think you are. But you remind me of one of those little birds with four legs, that runs around and sings like this. {Grunts like a pig.) Billy. Yes, I know I'm a hog, but I'm asking you to help me keep from being one. Dick. Then you want me to diagnose your case and sug- gest a remedy? Listen, here is the decision of the supreme court. I would propose to the first one I had a chance to, and if she didn't accept I'd propose to the other one. If by any chance she refused me — well, this town is on the edge of a mighty big lake. Billy {taking Dick's hand). Dick, you're a brick. If I can get my nerve up I'll do it to-night. {Starts away ; comes back.) Have you had any experience being " best man " ? If you haven't you better study up on it. (Enter Bob, at R.) Ah ! here's the boy now. Dick. This Mr. Kendrick? My name is Seabury. Let me introduce my friend Billy. Billy, Mr. Kendrick. Billy. Glad to know you, Mr. Kendrick. Dick, We haven't seen you for so long. Bob, that we thought we had better go through the formality of an introduc- tion, so you would know who you were talking to. Billy. Dick's got the right idea, stranger. Bob. Well, sit down, you fellows, and quit your kidding ; make yourself to home and tell me some news. Dick. Tell you some news ? You mean you tell us the news. Billy. I picked up three different papers this morning and the front page of each was disfigured with a photograph of Robert W. Kendrick, the energetic District Attorney. Bob. I see you are just as big a jollier as ever, Billy. J THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 35 Dick. Oh, that's no jolly. Here, see what the Herald says : ** The grand jury has been in secret session at the court- house the past week. Although it is impossible to obtain any facts, it is understood that District Attorney Kendrick has been presenting some sensational evidence. It is rumored that some of the packing houses of the stock-yards have secret mains through which they have stolen billions of gallons of the city's water. It is understood that investigations have been made and the pipes actually uncovered." Billy. What do you know about that ? Bob. You mustn't believe everything you see in the papers. I saw interesting news in one of them last evening regarding the attentions of Mr. Richard Seabury to Miss Beverly Calvert, but I know there wasn't any truth in it. Dick. Well, as it happens, smarty, there is. We're en- gaged. But keep it quiet a while. Billy. Oh, yes, we'll keep it quiet, nit. Bob. Don't keep it quiet. You know good things leak out. Let me be the first to congratulate you. Dick. Thanks. If you get a hustle on, perhaps we can have a double wedding. Billy {with handkerchief to eyes). I suppose it is the cus- tom to congratulate a prospective bridegroom, but honestly, Dick, I pity you from the bottom of my heart. When a man gets into the hands of the goddess of love he is like a blind man ; he needs some one to hold his hand and lead him. Dick. If you wasn't such a little fellow I'd wallop you. It was only just now that Billy was telling me he had met his affinity. Bob. How'd it happen, Billy ? BiLLV. Well, it was like this. We were all standing side by each, separately together in a group, and I was about to proceed, to start in, to commence, to begin to say, "If my presumptions are presumable, as I presume they are, I phrenoxi- cate by the peculiar conditions of the atmosphere we will have an eriotic storm a few hours hence from the present moment." Just then the young ladies passed by. They looked lonesome and I — well — I saw her home. B(JB. Have you got to the love-making stage yet? Billy. Yes — er — why, that is, I'm trying to. Dick. How you making out? Billy. Not very well. Sent them some flowers the other night and they returned them. 36 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY Bob. Fine ! You're making good. All girls do that at first. Billy. Then 1 called on them when they were in, and they wasn't in. Dick. All those things are in the first stage. Billy. How do you know ? Bob. Dick's graduated from the amateur to the professional. Billy. I wish I could make a hit, as Dick did. Bob. Cheer up, Billy, you'll get there yet. Dick. Well, Bob, we must be going ; got an engagement. Billy. Yes, we only dropped in to say hello. Bob {looking at the two pictures Billy left on his desk). What have we here ? Dick. Billy left those for you to add to your rogues' gallery. Billy. Such words are out of place. Bob. So were the pictures. Billy {taking pictures). Once again — good-bye. Dick. So-long. Bob. Come in again. {Exeunt Dick and Billy, r. Bob at desk writitig. Telephone rings.) Hello! Yes, this is the District Attorney Now you see here, Sullivan ; if you've got any business to transact with me you come where I am. Good-bye. {Slams down receiver, works at desk, takes a few papers in hand, exit at l. Jim. slowly opens door at v.., pokes in head, goes over to desk and telephones.) Jim. Main 7248 Hello! Maxwell Soap Company. Can I speak to Willie O'Brien? (Whistles, '' Take Me Up to the Ball Game.'') Hello, Willie. This is Jimmie. I'm all tired out ; never got home till two o'clock. Say, can you get off and come up to the ball game this afternoon? I've got a couple of passes for the grand stand Well, I haven't asked the old man yet. If I can fix it up I'll see you at half-past one in front of the Commonwealth Hotel. You bring the pop-corn and I'll bring the weed. Good-bye. [Exit, at r. Enter Bob and Cros., at L. Bob. I read over the evidence on the Terminal Company case last night, and I fail to see, unless we have the name of the third party, how we can hope to secure a conviction. Cros. I cannot possibly give you that name, Mr. Kendrick. THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY 37 I'm sorry. If I could I would have told you before. I've given you all the evidence in my possession, but that one thing 1 can't. Bob. I see no good reason why you shouldn't tell this name, and as assistant District Attorney I beheve it is your duty to do so. Cros. Yes, but you do not realize Bob. Let us analyze our position and see how we stand. You were private secretary to my father, and while in his employ as such you met Mr. Sullivan. You knew that Sea- bury, Sullivan, and this third party were the financiers of the Terminal Company, who had a bill before the City Council relative to the building of a subway by the company. Cros. Yes, the Terminal Company was to build and pay for the proposed tunnel. The understanding was that at the end of the twenty years the subway was to become the property of the city. Bob. Exactly, and this bill passed the Common Council. Cros. Yes, on the twenty year proposition. Bob. Then the bill was submitted to the Board of Alder- men. Sullivan, who was alderman from the Seventeenth Ward, introduced an amendment to the original bill, that the agree- ment be allowed to run for ninety-nine years instead of twenty years. Cros. That's right, so far. Bob. It was voted on and passed by one vote. Now, fol- low me closely. Sullivan saw before the vote that the Board would be equally divided on the bill. O'Connell, the alder- man from the Sixth Ward, was taken sick while in one of the committee rooms and he was sent home by Sullivan, who evi- dently telephoned to Seabury telling him to send you to the Aldermanic Chamber. Cros. Exactly ; that's right. Bob. When you arrived Sullivan happened to be busy writing, and asked you to take the seat next to him which hap- pened to be the one just left by O'Connell. As I understand it, you bore a striking likeness to O'Connell ; in fact so strong was the resemblance that the other alderman thought O'Connell was present. Cros. No one knew O'Connell was sick but Sullivan. Bob. Then the franchise is illegal, for the simple reason that it has never passed a quorum of tlie board. And it is up to the District Attorney's office to prosecute Seabury, Sullivan 38 THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY and this third party whose identity you hide. Of course your turning state's evidence strengthens your position. Cros. Yes, I think so, when the court learns that I had no intent of fraud, but that events came so quick that I did as Sullivan told me to on the impulse of the moment. Bob. I understand your position, and when the court fully realizes that after my successful campaign against you at the last election, you, knowing the exact status of this political treachery, so generously offered to serve as assistant District At- torney in an endeavor to bring these men to trial, it will re- dound to your credit. I must say that if it hadn't been for your help, backed by your experience in the office, I would have accomplished little against this ring of grafters headed by Sullivan. Cros. Sullivan is one of the cleverest politicians in this part of the country. He's got unlimited backing, and is able to do almost anything, and get away with it. Bob. What you say is largely true, but we'll get him yet. I have a report here from Pinkerton. They have evidence enough to cut short his career. The report says that Clark, McCarthy and Whitehouse, all of last year's Common Council, have stated in the presence of witness that Sullivan offered them a bribe for their vote. Cros. Yes, I know that is the case. Bob. Sullivan has had his fling, but I tell you, Crosby, Sullivan's day is at an end. Cros. Don't be too sure. I thought I had him cornered once myself. He was connected with that gas scandal, and just when I had him where I thought he couldn't possibly es- cape, and the evidence was direct and overwhelmingly against him, he hired a friend to confess and take all the blame, and then this friend skipped the country. Enter Jim., )stumes, modern; scenery, one interior! Acting rights reserved. Time, a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. Comedy in Four A cts. By OscAit "Wl LDkI Nine males, six females. Costumes, modf interiors. Plays a full evening. Acting i ight^ reading. Price, 50 Cents. AN IDEAL HUSBAND ern ; scenery, three inter reserved. Sold t\> THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST ^: LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN NATHAN HALE ce in Three Acts. By O.scAi Wilde. Five males, foiir females. Costumes, modern ; scenes, twi interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Acting rights re-j serred. Price, 50 Cents. Comedy in Four Acts. By Osca i "Wir.DK. Seven males, nine fe-1 males. Costumes, mo«lern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a fuUI evening. Acting rights reserved. Price, ~>0 Cents. Play in Four Acts. By Clvdk Fitch. Fifteen! males, four females. Cdstuiuesof the eighteenth century in America. Scenery, four interiors and two exteriors. Act- ing rights leserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cent.s. THP HTHPH PPTinW Comedv in Three Act.s. BvM. B. Hornk-I lUIi UIULU rLLLfUTT Six males, four females.' Scenery, two interiors: costumes, modern. 3'n>fes.sional stage rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. Comedy in Four ActP.' By C. H. CnA.Mr.i:us. Four males, three fe- males. Scenery, an interior and an exterior; costumes, modern. Acting rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cent.s. A WOMAN OF NO IMPORTANCE ;i''"lt?v',LS"KiX»K seven females. Costuines, modern ; scenery, three interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Stage rights reserved. Off ere. I tor reading only. Price, .50 Cents. Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 5^altcr l^. isaftcv & Company No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts THE TYRANNY OF TEARS ILL *, CO., PRINTCRS. MOSTON. PAMPHLET BINDER Manufactuttd hy GAYLORD BROS. Inc. Syracuse, N. Y. Stockton, Calif. VB 320! ^ iVi2024S0 f^o THE UNIVERSITY OF CAUFORNIA UBRAR\