NO PLAYS EXCHANGED. PS 635 .29 I W572 Copy 1 or PLnY3 ALIAS BROWN Price, 25 C^nts COPYRIGHT. 1889, BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO B. U). PInero's Plays Price, SO €tnt» e«cb TtlC A If A 7 AMC ^u-oe in l^ee Acts. Seren soAles, fire fe- IIU AIflA£iV/ni3 xnaJee. Oottomee, modern; seenery, cot ttfievlt FUjB a full oTenlng. •PUC nknmVT UrUICTliD Faroe in Pour Aeta. Ten Tllfc CADil1£>l mlrildl&K mal«e, nine females. Ooa i, BM>aerD Boelety; eoenwr, tiferee Interiors. PUys a fnll evening- |v AmirkV niriT Faroe In Thr^e AetB. Seven xzkales, four fe- l/Alll/I 1/ivlW males. OoaCta&ee, modern ; scenery, two inte- tlon. PUyi two hours and a half. •niC r»AV I ADn niirY C5oraedy in Four Act*. Fonr males, lIUi uAI LUlUi VJULA ten femalee. Oostnmes, modern; •eeoery, tiro interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. HIS HOUSE IN ORDER SSfi&iL^^dJSJm^l^S^ •eenery, three interiors. Plays a fnll evenlsg. tlMV UADDV UADCr Ckunedy in Three Acta. Twi malee, iriti n\JDol nxJRDTt eve females. Ooetnmes, modern; ■eenery easy. Plays two hoars and a half. IDIQ Drama iu Five Acts. Seven males, seven female*. Oostumes, ISUd modem; soenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. I anV DATTWTIUfTI Play in Four Acts. Eight males, seven UUII DUUnilrUL females. Coetumes, modern; soen- ery, foxir interlora, not easy. Plays a full evening. I rPrV Drama in Four Acts and an Bpilogne. Ten males, five LEil I I females. Costumea, modern; seenery eompUoated. Flays a full evening. TUC MArKTDAlT Faroe In Tliree Acts. Twelve males, inJb niAulO 1 AJ\ 1 £i four femalw. Oostumes, modem; Beaaery, all interior. Plays two hours and a half. Sent prepaid on receipt of price by Walttx ^. ISafeer & Companp Ko. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts Alias Brown A Satirical Farce in Three Acts By E. J. WHISLER Author of '-'-The Private Tutor " The professional stage rights in this play are reserved by the author, and all persons wishing to produce it publicly and for profit should apply for permission to the author in care of the publishers. Amateurs may produce it without permission. BOSTON WALTER H. BAKER k CO. 1914 Alias Brown fjfi^ CHARACTERS Mr. James Logan, a young married man. Age about twenty -five. Quick tempered. Mr. Mortimer, *'Mrs. Mortimers husband'' not subdued, but submerged. Age about forty. John Brown, a cigar salesman. Age about forty. A practical business man with no frills. Somewhat bald and a little gray. Vincent Allgood, the hotel clerk ( Nuf ced). Montmorency, a bell hop. Henry Keeler, a young man of about thirty. A getitleitian of leisure, and a good fellow. Billy ^Y^NQOViV,, a newspaper reporter. Alert and on the job. La Rue, the chief of police. A little heavy mentally, but persistent andfaithficl. Mr. Thomas Richie, a good-hearted, but weak young fellow, of about twenty four. Lee Waters, a theatrical manager. Pompous and much inclined to run things. Rastus, a porter. Mary Gilbert, a public stenographer. Age about twenty-five. A practical, sensible girl. Mrs. Marie Logan, a young married woman. Age about twenty- two. Mrs. Beatrice Mortimer, an actress. Age about forty-five. Mrs. John Brown, about forty years old. Very jnild ntannered, a little old fashioned. Mrs. Thomas Richie, age about twenty. A flighty little thing, frivolous, but affectionate. Time. — The present. Place. — Reno, Nevada. Act L The hotel office. 8:30 a. m. Act n. The hotel parlor. 6:00 p. m., the same day. Act IIL The office. The next morning. TMP92-007523 Copyright, 19 14, by E. J. Whisler As author and proprietor All rights reserved ©Cl.D 37869 AUG i7!9!4 Alias Brown ACT I SCENE. — The lobby of a hotel in JRe7io, Nevada. Down r, is a door with a frosted glass in the upper panel, bearing the word ^^ Bar'' Up stage r. is the office of the hotel , with the usual appurtenances of such a place behifid the counter. R. c. of back flat is the entrance to the hotel ; large double doors ; street backing. Running down stage C. is a series of pillars, around the base of which are built upholstered circular seats. The pillars serve to in a ?neasure separate the left from the right side of the stage, the left side being heavily carpeted, a?id furnished with majiy easy chairs and one or two tvriting-tables, palms, etc. At the extreme left is a stairway, beginning doivn stage and run?iing up to a bal- cony at the back. Under the stairway is a set of very wide doors, built like French windows, leading to the dining-room, which can be seen through the doors. Left, near the foot of the stairs, stands a typeivriter desk, closed, a chair behind it. A sign hangifig on the desk reads ' ' Public Stenographer. ' ' The clock on the wall stands at 8:jo. {At rise of curtain Vincent Allgood, the hotel clerk, is standing behind the office counter, pigeonholing the morn- ing mail for the guests, while a number of men in the bar off R. sing ^' Oh, Gee, Pm glad I'm free / No wedding bells for me f") Mr. Thomas Richie (off r.). Again ! The Men {singing). Oh, Gee, I'm glad I'm free ! No wedding bells for me ! Richie (off r.). Fill 'em up again, barkeep, fill 'em up! This is my li'll party ! 4 ALIAS BROWN {The chink of glasses comes faiiitlyfroin the bar. Mary Gilbert appears on the balcony and comes down the stairs. She crosses to c, and stands ^ listeiiing, afroivn 07i her face.) A Man's Voice (off'R.). What's the matter with Richie? The Others. He's all right ! The Voice. Who's all right? The Others. Richie ! The Voice. Why ? The Others. He's got his divorce, he's got his divorce, he's got his divorce, hurrah ! Hurrah ! Rah, rah, rah ! Richie (off r.). Sing it again, fellows. The Men (singi?ig). Oh, Gee, I'm glad I'm free ! No wedding bells for me ! ViN. Good-morning, Miss Gilbert. Mary (shortly). Good -morning. ViN. You're late this morning. Mary (indifferently). Am I? ViN. Yes, half an hour. Mary. When did you become manager of this hotel ? ViN. I'm not the manager. Mary. Oh, you're not ! Then suppose you leave the manager's affairs alone. I report to him. ViN. My, look at the hair in grandma's soup ! We must have been out last night. Mary. No, I wasn't out last night ! ViN. Well, you've got a morning after grouch, all right. The Men (off r., singing). Oh, Gee, I'm glad I'm free I No wedding bells for me ! Mary. Who wouldn't have a grouch after listening to that all night ? That bunch has been singing that thing ever since six o'clock last evening. ViN. Well, what of it ? Mary. My room is right over the bar. I didn't get an hour's sleep all night. Somebody got a divorce yesterday, I suppose. (Crosses to desk L. and Ifts top, revealing a typeivriter.) ALIAS BROWN 5 ViN. Yes, Mr. Richie, and 1 think you're mighty mean to begrudge him his little celebration. Mary. Mr. Allgood, nearly every day somebody is granted a divorce in this town ; the result is that there's a celebration under my room nearly every night. ViN. Believe me, in most cases it's been earned. Mary. The singular fact about it is that it's always the man who does the celebrating. ViN. There's nothing singular about that. The chances are that it's the first opportunity the poor devil's had since he was married. Enter KicuiE from bary r. He is happily intoxicated, Richie. Morning, everybody ! ViN. Good-morning, Mr. Richie. Richie. Did you hear th' goo' news ? ViN. What news ? Richie. Got m' d'vorce yesterday. 'M a single man now. Been celebrating. ViN. {dryly). So I see. Richie. Up all night. 'Sturb you ? Mary. You kept me awake all night. Richie. Tha's too bad. 'M awfully sorry. You couldn't sleep 'tall ? Mary. Not a wink. Richie. Well, why didn't you come down ? We had a fine time ! Mary. Oh, don't talk to me ! Richie (crossing to l. c). I beg your pardon ? Mary. I say, don't talk to me. Richie. You know, you remin' me of my wife — my ex- wife. She nev'r liked my conversation. You know — you know, miss, I'm a much abused man. My wife nev'r appre- ciated me. Mary (bitterly). No, I suppose not. You poor men are always misunderstood ! Richie (misunderstanding her — in maudlin self-pity^. Don' pity me. Lemme suffer in silence. Some day she'll 'preciate my true worth — then she'll be sorry. And then, what'll /do? (Strikes his chest.) Mary. I don't know, and I don't care to know. 6 ALIAS BROWN Richie. You're just like all women; you're heartless. You have no sympathy for suffering humanity. Mary {rising^. Mr. Allgood, I'm going in to get some- thing to eat. If the manager should ask for me, tell him I'm at breakfast. \^Exit into dining-room^ L. Richie {crossing to counter). Shay, I shink I ought to have a li'll sleep. Got a room ? ViN. I can give you the bridal suite, Richie. Shay, I wanna room ; don' care where it is, but it's got to be a {bringijig hand down on counter') single room. ViN. All right. Twenty-three for you. Richie. Wha's that? ViN. Room 23. Richie. Oh. All ri'. ViN. {ringing bell. E?iter Montmorency. Vin. gives key to Mont.). Show this gentleman to ''23." (Mont, with a vast amount of difficulty gets Richie up the stairs and exits L.) Enter Henry Keeler, d. f. He carries a couple of grips. He is of average height, heavily built, and perpetually exudes good fellowship. He wears a smcill inilitary mustache. Keel. Well, son, I've been on my way to Reno, and now I have arrived. Vin. So I see. Welcome Keel. To our bustling little city. Can I get a room ? Vin. {a?ixioiis to please). Yes, indeed, sir. Keel. I like your line of talk. They were full at the good hotel, up street. Vin. I can give you the bridal suite, sir. Keel. Son, you couldn't give me the bridal suite as a gift. I'm a single man. Vin. I know, sir, but Keel. I'm not taking any chances. Vin. How would you like a room with a southern ex- posure ? Keel. To tell you the truth, the one thing I want to avoid is exposure of any kind. Vin. I'll give you 22. Keel. All right. Anything but 4, 11 or 44. They are my unlucky numbers. ALIAS BROWN 7 ViN. {pushing register around^. Will you register, Mr. ? Keel. Oh, yes. My name is {Fumbles in his pock- ets and brings out a handful of cards. Looks at one of them^ reads.) Brown. Mr. John Brown. If you don't believe it, there's my card. {Hands card to Vin.) I'm a cigar drum- mer. Have a sample. {Takes ha7idful of cigars from pocket and forces one of them into ViN.'s mouth. Vin. takes it out and sputters. ) Vin. Thank you, I don't smoke. (Keel, reaches for the cigar ; Vin. puts it in his vest pocket.) But my brother does. Keel. Son, you're all right ! Here's one for your father. {Hands Vin. another cigar.) Vin. Thank you, sir. Keel. You're welcome. The firm pays for them. Vin. What firm are you with ? Keel. What firm? {Takes a card from his pocket and reads it.) Stonehouse & Madison, Importers. Where's the barber shop ? I need a shave. Vin, {pointing to door r.). Right through the bar. Keel. Do you have to go through the bar to get to the barber shop ? Vin. Yes, sir, unless you enter from the street. Keel. Say, that's fine — that's fine ! Son, I can see right now that I'm going to get shaved every fifteen minutes while I'm here. Send my bags up, will you ? {Exit Keel. d. r. to bar. Vin. rings bell. Mont, comes down stairs. Vin. hands him key.) Vin. Take these bags to 22. (Mont, takes bags tip-stairs and exits l. A crash off stage.) What on earth is that ? {Rushes out from behind counter. Enter Richie, d. f. Hts clothing is disarranged a?id dusty, as from a fall.) Where did you come from ? Richie {waving his hand toward street door). Out there. Vin. But I thought you went up-stairs. Richie. Did. Vin. Then how did you ever get outside ? Richie. Fell off th' porch roof. Vin. What were you doing there ? 8 ALIAS BROWN Richie. Raising th' window in my room. ViN. From the outside ? Richie. Sure. It's close in that room. But I'm little Willie Wise and I knew if people saw me raise that window from the inside they'd think 1 was drunk an' needed fr'sh air. ViN. Well ? Richie. So I says to m'self, I'll raise it from th' outside, an' they'll nev'r know. ViN. Do you want to go up-stairs again ? Richie. No, s'r, not me. I'm down here now, where th* pretty li'U breezes blow, and I'm goin' to stay. (^Drops on to the circular seat surrounding one of the pillars^ up stage.) Enter Billy Newcomb, d. f. Billy. Morning, Allgood. ViN. Good- morning, Mr. Newcomb. Billy. Got a story for me this morning ? ViN. I'm afraid not. Billy. Man, man, you've simply got to give me something. News are scarce. We only have one good story to-day. ViN. What is it? Billy. Bunch of sports tried to pull off a prize-fight at Sacramento last night, and the whole outfit was pinched. Prominent men — big sensation — scare heads. ViN. I'm afraid I can't help you Richie. Are you looking for news ? Billy. I surely am, friend. Richie. Well, I've got th' mos' d'lightful piece of news Billy. Let us have it. Richie. Got my d'vorce yest'day. Billy. It looks to me as though that wasn't all you got. Did they hand you that package with it ? Richie. Frien*, you insult my cap-cap- capacity. This ain't package. This's jus' li'll parcel. Billy. Any arrivals, Allgood ? (Richie curls up on the seat and goes to sleep.') ViN. There was a woman registered here yesterday — say, you might get a story out of that. Billy. What about it ? ViN. A Mrs. Brown registered here yesterday. ALIAS BROWN 9 Billy. Mrs., eh ? After a divorce, I suppose? ViN. I fancy so. She bears all the earmarks of a broken heart. Billy. Nothing domg. Why, man, the boss says he'll can me if I hand in another divorce story. We haven't run much else for the last five years, and the sob sister's worn to a frazzle trying to get new twists on the old stuff. ViN. You're not going to cut it out, are you? Billy. Oh, no, but we're going to run it under "statistics" from now on. Where's Miss Gilbert this morning ? ViN. In at breakfast, and if you take my advice you'll leave her alone. She's got a grouch on a foot thick. Billy. What's the matter? ViN. You don't mean to tell me you've lived all these years and still think a man can understand a woman's moods ! Why, they don't understand 'em themselves. Enter Mary, d. l. She crosses to typewriter desk down L. and sits. Mary {cordially). Good -morning, Billy. Billy {crossing to her). Good- morning, Mary. Allgood lied to me. Mary. Still at it, is he ? Billy. Yes ; he said that you had a grouch this morning. Mary. Oh, that was before breakfast. Billy. Feel better now ? Mary. M'hm. [Exit Vin., d. f. Billy. Got a story for me this morning ? Mary. Not a thing, Billy. Billy. Gee, the town's dead to-day. Can't get a news item anywhere. Mary. This old hotel was certainly alive last night. Billy. What happened ? Mary. Usual thing. Somebody got a divorce and cele- brated all night. Billy {poi?iting to Richie). Is that the celebrator ? Mary (looking). Yes. Billy. He's not likely to disturb you now for a while. So you can't give me a story ? Mary. I'm afraid not, Billy. Billy {sitting on the edge of her desk). Then let me tell you a story. 10 ALIAS BROWN Mary. Please don't, Biliy. Billy. Why ? Mary. You know why. We've talked that all over before. Billy. I know we have — a dozen times. But I still keep hoping Mary. Your hopes are useless, Billy. I shall never change my mind. Billy. Never ? Mary. Billy, why can't we be good friends? Billy. Because what I feel for you isn't friendship, Mary. I love you, I love Mary. Billy, please don't. I like you, Billy ; I like you a lol, but it can never be more than just liking. Billy. Because of my divorce, I suppose ? Mary. Yes. Billy. But that's all dead and done. Mary, I came here five years ago to get my divorce. I've been working here steadily ever since, and my standing in the town is unques- tioned. You have known me since the day you came here. You surely don't think I am like some of the other people you see here? Mary. No, Billy, you're not. But you don't realize what I have seen in this hotel. The seamy side of life is uppermost day and night. The people I see here play with their affections as though they were toys, to be broken and replaced. I have grown so that I despise the very sound of the word "divorce." Billy. Mary ! Mary. I suppose you think I am puritanical ; perhaps I am. I don't think I shall ever marry, but if I do it must be a man who comes to me with a clean heart. Billy. But, Mary Mary. Marriage at its best, Billy, is a horrible gamble. And I should be afraid to trust my happiness to a man who had tried marriage once — and failed. Billy. But if he really loved you ; honestly Mary. I couldn't help remembering that he once loved his first wife — really and honestly. (Richie /a//s off the seat. Climbs back and goes to sleep again. ^ Billy. I know that the average man is no better than he should be, not as good, in fact. But sometimes, Mary, he is not wholly responsible for the trouble. ALIAS BROWN II Mary. Meaning ? Billy. That women have also erred. Mary. Yes, but ninety-nine times out of a hundred it is because of a man. Billy. Mary, I never told you the details of my affair, did 1? Mary. No, Billy, and I don't want you to. Billy. But if you knew I think you would see things dif- ferently, because you would understand. It wasn't my fault, I swear to you ! Mary. Billy, I'm sorry you said that. Do you know what Mr. Kipling says ? *' If she have spoken a word Remember thy lips are sealed And the brand of the dog is upon him By whom is the secret revealed. If there be trouble to Herward, And a lie of the blackest can clear, Lie, while thy lips can move. Or a man is alive to hear." Billy, if I loved you enough to marry you I would do so, no matter what your past had been or what you were, for that is a woman's way. But you shouldn't have tried to hide behind her skirts. Billy. I wasn't trying to do that, Mary. I only wanted you to understand, for I love you, I love you. I want you, and everything else sinks into insignificance beside that fact. Oh, Mary Mary. Billy, when I let you talk that way sometimes I let myself go and drift away in dreams. And then, suddenly, as you talk, it strikes upon my consciousness like a blow, " He said that to her once, and meant it." If that love died, what assurance have I that this one won't ? Billy. But this love is real. Mary. We always think that, Billy, or we wouldn't take a chance. No, I shall stay in the hotel here and grow into a crabbed old maid, which, after all, will have its compensation. Billy. What is that ? Mary. I will never get my name into your paper. Buck up, Billy. Smile. We're going to be friends, even if you 12 ALIAS BROWN don't want to. Now you run along, scoop the Argus, and come in to-morrow and tell me all about it. JEftfer ViN., D. F. Ife goes behind the counter, Billy. Good-bye. Mary. Good-bye, Billy. {He starts out.) Billy ! {He comes back.) You haven't smiled yet. {He smiles.) That's better. Good-bye. \_Exit Billy, d. f. {Telephone at desk rings.) ViN. {taking down receiver). Hello Yes, this is the office Yes, she's here Yes, sir, right away. {Hangs up receiver.) Miss Gilbert, the old gent with the rheumatism in " 37 " wants some letters written. Mary. All right. {Picks up 7iote-book and pencil. Goes up stairs and exits R.) Enter Lee Waters, d. f. Carries a grip. Waters. Is Mrs. Mortimer registered here ? ViN. Yes, sir. WaterSv Good ! Send up word that her manager, Mr. Waters, is here. ViN. Yes, sir. {Turns to 'pho?ie.) Hello Mrs. Mor- timer? This is the office Your manager, Mr. Waters, is here All right. {Turns to Waters.) They'll be right down, sir. Waters. Good ! {Looks about.) Nice place you have here. ViN. Yes, sir, we think it's rather nice. Waters. Make a good set for a hotel scene. ViN. {puzzled). I beg your pardon ? Waters. I say, make a good set for a hotel scene. But they're done to death lately. Every manager sticks in a hotel or cabaret scene somewhere. Got to have something new. (Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer come doivn the stairs.) Mrs. M. Ah, Mr. Waters, how do you do ? Waters. How do you do, Mrs. Mortimer? How are you, Mortimer ? Surprised to get my wire? Mrs. M. We were not so much surprised at the wire as at your request that we meet you at Reno. ALIAS BROWN 1 3 Mr. M. Yes, we commented on it all the way on the train. Waters. Peihaps you'll be even more surprised at my errand. Mrs. M. I hope nothing has gone wrong ? Waters. Not yet. Mrs. M. Has Sheldon fallen down on my new play ? Waters. Mrs. Mortimer, Sheldon never falls down. The play will be ready by fall. Mrs. M. Then why on earth did you ask us to come to Reno ? Waters. Mrs. Mortimer, do you know how much money I made on you last season ? Mrs. M. I haven't the slightest idea. Waters. Well, hardly enough to buy a silk hat. Mrs. M. {offended). If I haven't been giving satisfaction, you can always cancel Waters. Nonsense ! Mrs. Mortimer, you've been before the public so long that the people have gotten used to you. You've built up a regular following but it's highbrow, and small. You don't stand 'em up any more, and we've got to stand 'em up these days to make a big success. Mrs. M. Well? Waters. Now, I've been thinking the matter over, and I've come to the conclusion that we've got to do some drastic advertising on this new show. Mrs. M. I'm agreeable. Anything that's dignified and not cheap. Waters. Oh, my scheme's dignified, all right. And it will work, too. It always has. Mrs. M. What is it? Waters. You've got to divorce Mortimer. Mrs. M. } ("'^^'^-)- ^'^^^ ' Waters. It's a little sudden, no doubt, but it's a good, sensible move. Mrs. M. But we are very fond of each other. Mr. M. Yes, indeed. Waters. That don't make any difference. You were fond of your other husbands, but you managed to get along without Mrs. M. Mr. Waters, I can't consider sucl Waters. Look here, Mrs. Mortimer, you've got to! We didn't much more than break even last season and we stand to 14 ALIAS BROWN lose money this year. Competition's keen, the movies are cut- ting in on us, and we've got to wake 'em up. Mrs. M. Why not ''wake them up" with a worthy pro- duction of a good play with a competent cast ? Waters. Nothing doing ! People don't go to see the play any more. What does the public know about plays, anyhow ? They go to see some widely advertised star and get hints on the styles. That's one thing I always liked about your work — you always was a good dresser. Mrs. M. I don't like the idea at all. We've only been married about a year, and we were just getting used to each other. Waters. Of course, it's inconvenient, but Mrs. M. And Mortimer is the most satisfactory husband I ever had. You can't imagine how useful he is. He is far handier than lots of maids I have had, and he keeps the scrap- book with my press notices in perfect shape, when I'm on the road. Mr. M. Yes, Waters, it's a deuced shame. I'm getting tired of this constant change, and I hoped we would be able to make a go of it, for a few years, at least. Waters. But think of the advertising. Mrs. M. Oh, it's good advertising, I know. Waters. I'll have a big story, with a two-column cut of you, in every paper in the country. It'll boom business. Mrs. M. But we are notoriously happy — pointed to as a striking exception to the rule. What grounds have we ? Waters. Easy ! That's my big card. We'll call it in — in — what do you call it when one of 'em has a devil of a temper ? Mr. M. Incompatibility? Waters. That's it. Incom — what you said. We'll lay it to Mrs. Mortimer's artistic temperament. Mortimer likes pie for breakfast and she can't stand for it — or something like that. I'll work it for all it's worth in the papers. We've got to do something and a divorce makes more talk than anything else. Mrs. M. Perhaps it would be best. But I shall be awfully sorry to lose you, Mortimer. Waters. Then it's all settled. I'll see you at dinner and we'll arrange the details. \^Exit i?ito bar r. Mr. M. Bee, I don't like this at all. We've always gotten on well together. ALIAS BROWN 15 Mrs. M. Neither do I. But what can we do ? I've got to make a livhig. r „ i Mr M. I'm going to be awfully lonesome. Mrs. M. Listen. I know the very girl for you. She s not very good looking, but she has money. Mr. M. But I like you, Bee. Mrs M Oh, do be sensible. You'll have to marry some- body, and why not her ? She got a divorce only last month, and she'll be lonesome too. Mr M. What does she look like ? Mrs. M. I have her picture in my trunk. Let s go up. {They start up stairs.) Mr M. This is awfully decent of you. Bee. ^ ^ ^ . Mrs. M. It's only fair. You've been a good husband; why shouldn't I do something for you ? Mr M Just the same, I don't like to leave you. ^ Mrs M I know. Maybe we can get married agam, when business picks up. C^^O' ^^^^«^- Enter Mr. James Logan, d. f. Carries a grip. Logan. Can I get a room ? ViN. Yes, sir. (Swings register about and hands pen to Logan.) Logan {writing). Mr. James Logan— a married man, but I won't be much longer. Vin What kind of a room do you wish, sir ? Logan. One that hasn't a "God Bless our Home" sign on the wall. Vin I can give you the bridal suite, sir. Logan. No you can't; not if I know it ! I don't want anything that will remind me of my bitter experience. Vin. Family trouble, sir? Logan. Say, if some shmy serpent in human form crept into the bosom of your happy household and with his fangs spread the venom of unfaithfuhiess and distrust, would you call it ''family trouble " ? (Mary co?nes doivn stairs and sits at desk l.) Vin. I would, sir. l6 ALIAS BROWN Logan. All right, then. Put me down as having family trouble. Can you recommend a good lawyer ? ViN. (^pointing). There's a case full of professional cards. (Logan inspects the rack.) Most people seem to prefer the lawyers with engraved cards, over the printed ones. Logan. Is there a stenographer in this hotel ? ViN. Over to your left, sir. Logan (crossing to Mary l.). Young lady, will you take a let Say, are you married ? Mary. Married women, as a rule, don't have to pound the typewriter for a living. Logan. Then, take my advice and stay single. Mary. Thank you. Logan. Look at me. I'm a victim of the vilest treachery true love has ever known. A year ago I was as happy as a basketful of kittens in a sunny spot. To-day I'm a broken- hearted man. Mary {bored). Did you want to write a letter? Logan. On the first anniversary of my married life, the first anniversary, mind you, / went home unexpectedly in the afternoon to get some papers, and what do you suppose I found ? Mary. The papers? Logan. No, I found a messenger boy leaving the house with a note. I took it from him and read it. Here it is. {Produces note.) Exhibit **A." {Reads.) <'Mr. John Brown, City. {Ope?is e?ivelope, takes out note and reads.) My husband will be absent from home all afternoon, so we will not be disturbed. Do not fail to come. Marie." I con- fronted my wife with the damning evidence, and what do you suj:»pose she did? Mary. Did you want to write a letter? Logan. She laughed at me — me, her loving husband, laughed at me. Then, when I refused to see the joke, she grew angry. I rushed from the house, sent a coi)y of the in- criminating evidence to Mrs. Brown and boarded the train for Reno. Mary. Did you want to write a letter? Logan. And here I am. Now the law shall take its course. No wife of mine, I don't care who she is, can carry on an in- trigue with a cigar drummer and remain unpunislied. Mary. But why make 7}ie suffer? I had nothing to do with it. ALIAS BROWN I7 Logan. Have you no sympathy for your fellow man? Mary. If 1 sympathized with everybody in this hotel who is suing for a divorce, I would be the solution of perpetual motion. Now, how about that letter ? Logan. Oh, yes. {Dictates; she takes it ofi the machine.) " Mrs. James Logan, San Francisco, Cal. Dear Madam " No, cut that out. Make it — " Woman : I am in Reno, where I told you I would come. Proceedings will be begun as soon as possible, and you will be freed to continue your infamous intrigue with that despicable scoundrel Brown." Put Brown in red ink. "Your broken-hearted husband " No, cut that out. Make it: ''Your poor, deluded dupe." That last sentence isn't true, for she'll never have Brown if I can help it. The first time I get my hands on him, I'll make him look as though he had been run through a meat grinder. Mary (ha/iding him letter). Two bits, please. {He takes letter^ hands her the money, and crosses to desk.) Logan. Got a pen? {Takes pe 71 from Vin,, signs letter, and seals envelope.') Where is the post-office? Vin. Two blocks from here, to your right. [Exit Logan, d. f. Enter Mrs. John Brown from dining-room, L. She comes down L., and sits near Mary. Mary. Good-morning, Mrs. Brown. Mrs. B. Good-morning, Miss — Miss Mary. Gilbert. Did you have a good breakfast ? Mrs. B. {on the verge of tears). Every mouthful seemed to choke me. It is the first time I have been separated from my husband since we were married. Mary. But this separation will only make you appreciate your home the more when you return. Mrs. B. I shall never return ! Mary {with a grimace). Oh, another ! I might have known. Mrs. B. Miss — Miss Mary. Gilbert. Mrs. B. Miss Gilbert, take my advice and never marry. Mary. Thank you for the suggestion. Every guest who has registered in this hotel since I've been here has given me l8 ALIAS BROWN the same advice, so there must be something in it. It's so unanimous. Mrs. B. Men are deceitful wretches, all of them. Mary. Amen ! Mrs. B. What do you suppose my husband did ? Mary {matter of fact). Made love to another woman. Mrs. B. Who told you ? Mary. No one. Mrs. B. Then how did you know ? Mary. Because that's what they all do. Mrs. B. I'm afraid you're cynical. Mary. Not at all. I'm " wise," that's all. Mrs. B. I never mistrusted my husband for a moment. He was always tenderness and consideration personified. And then suddenly like a sky-rocket in a black heaven, I learned the awful truth. Mary. And now the stick has come down with a thud. Mrs. B. My husband has been having an affair with a Mrs. James Logan — the hussy ! Mary. How did you discover it ? Mrs. B. Mr. Logan intercepted a note she had written my husband, and sent me a copy. (^Takes it fro7n purse.') Here it is. (Reads.) '*Mr. John Brown, City. My husband will be absent from home all afternoon, so we will not be disturbed. Do not fail to come. Marie." Wait until I get hold of her ; I'll ''Marie" her. Mary. Had your husband no explanation to offer ? Mrs. B. He left on a trip. He's a cigar salesman. The day I received this copy I wrote him that I knew all about his unfaithfulness, and was leaving for Reno. Now, I'm going to have a divorce. But I dread the scandal and publicity. Mary. Don't worry. Divorce is so common here that the papers list the decrees like stock quotations or baseball returns. Mrs. B. (breaking dowfi). Oh, I am so unhappy ! Mary. There, there, never mind. It seems that everybody has to go through it once, and it gets to be a habit with others. You'll be better off without him, and you may pick a winner the next time. (She helps Mrs. B. up the stairs and exits L. Richie fails off the seat agai?!, then rises to his feet. He is considera- bly sobered up by this time. Vin. enters and goes behind counter.) ALIAS BROWN 1 9 Richie. Gee, but the water's rough to-uight. That's the second time I've fallen out of my berth. Enter Keel, from bar^ r. His mustache is gone. Keel. Say, clerk, that's some barber shop. The head barber can mix up the finest Ramos fizz I Richie. Keeler, by all the Gods ! Where did you come from? Keel. Well, look who's here ! Richie ! Let's have a drink ! Richie. No, thanks. I had a drink from six o'clock last night until eight this morning, and I'm just getting over it. Say, you're not married, are you ? Keel. I should say not, also nay, and not I. Richie. Then, what are you doing in Reno? Keel. It's a long story, and a pathetic one, but I'll make it as brief as possible. Richie. Didn't you use to wear a mustache ? Keel. Yes ; just had it shaved off. Girls don't like 'em. Richie. Say, Keeler Keel. S-s-s-sh ! {Gives a quick glance around.^ Don't call me Keeler. Richie. It's your name. Keel. Was — not is. My name's Brown ; I'm a cigar salesman. (Hands Richie a card.) Here's my card. Have a sample. (^Forces cigar into Richie's mouth.) Richie (^looking at card ; takes agar from mouth, looks at it, replaces it ; looks at Keel.). How long have you been in that bar ? Keel. Just had one drink. Richie. Must be the heat, then. Keel. Listen attentively and I'll explain. And remember, until I give you the word, my name is Brown. Yesterday I was in Sacramento. Richie. Poor Sacramento. Keel. And I got a tip that there was to be a little bout last night. Ten dollars a ticket, and a fight to the finish. Richie. Did you go ? Keel. Why do you interrupt with those needless questions ? Richie. Good fight ? Keel. While it lasted. But in the fourth round they pinched us. Richie. No ! 20 ALIAS BROWN Keel. They did, I tell you. I ought to know. I was one of the pinchees. They took our names, and I was so excited I gave my real name. Richie. You need a nurse ! Keel. They marched us to the police station. Just as we passed the railroad station, I saw a train standing there. I ducked into an alley. They chased me, but I got away, jumped on the train, which was then pulling out, and this morning I found myself in Reno. Richie. Safe ! Keel. Not by a damned sight ! They have a purity cam- paign on in Sacramento, and I'll have to stay under cover un- til this thing dies down. But, believe me, I'm the original wise one. On the train I met a cigar drummer by the name of Brown. He fell asleep ; I borrowed some of his cards, bought a box of cigars this morning, had my mustache shaved off, and now I'm a cigar salesman. Have a sam Oh, I gave you one, didn't I? Now, so long as I remain Brown I shall be free from all trouble. So remember, from now on my name is Brown. (Mary comes dow?i stairs and sits at her desk.) You'd better come and have a drink. Richie. By Jove, I need one after that story. \_They exeimt into bar, r. Enter Mrs. Marie Logan, with grip, d. f. She sta?ids at the desk for a ?ninute. Mary begins to work on type- writer. Mrs. L. hears the clatter of the machine and comes down. Mrs. L. Is the clerk here ? Mary. He'll be in in just a minute. Mrs. L. Do you know if my husband is registered here? Mary. What is the name, please ? Mrs. L. Mr. James Logan. Mary. A moment and I'll see. (^She crosses to desk atid looks at register, then comes down.) Yes, ma'am, room '' 20." Mrs. L. (sittitig). I am the most unhappy woman in the world. Mary. Mrs. Logan, this hotel is filled with '' the most un- happy woman in the world." Mrs. L. My husband is suing for a divorce. Mary. That ought to make you happy. Mrs. L. But he has no grounds. ALIAS BROWN 21 Mary. What does he charge ? Mrs. L. Infidelity. And no wife has ever been more faith- ful than I. The very action itself is based upon a deed of mine to make him happy. Mary. Does he know that ? Mrs. L. No. When he first accused me, I laughed, for I thought he was joking. Then when I realized that he was serious, and tried to explain to him, he flew into a passion and refused to listen to me. Mary. What fools men are. Mrs. L. Miss, take my advice and never marry. Mary. I'll try to remember that. Mrs. L. We had been married just a year, and I wanted to buy him a gift in commemoration. I have an old friend by the name of Brown, who is a cigar salesman, and he was to bring up some smoking sets to the house for me to make a selection. I sent him a note telling him that my husband would be away all the afternoon and we would not be dis- turbed, and asking him to be sure to come, for that was our anniversary day. My husband found the note, misunderstood it, and has come here for a divorce. (^Enter Vin.) What shall I do? Mary. Let him have it. It would be his worst punish- ment. Mrs. L. But I love him ! Mary. After that ? Mrs. L. After that, or anything else he might do. When a woman really loves a man, nothing can alter her affection. He may force her to despise him, but she will still love him. That is her punishment for being a woman. Mary. I guess I've never really loved, then. The clerk is here now. Mrs. L. (crossing to desk). Can you give me a rooui ? Vin. Yes, ma'am. How would you like to have the bridal suite ? Mrs. L. Don't, please ! Anything but that. Vin. It is very nice. Mrs. L. No doubt, but I have no husband. Vin. It might change your luck. Mrs. L. No real husband, I mean. I'm a wife in name only. Vin. Oh ! Another one ! Mrs. L. Is Mr. Logan here now ? 22 ALIAS BROWN ViN. No, ma'am. He has gone to the post-office. Mrs. L. I'll go up, then. (ViN. rings bell. Enter Mont.) ^ ViN. Show this lady to 19. \^Exeunt Mont. a7id Mrs. L. /// the stairs to R. Mary. Mr. AUgood, why do you try to get everybody who comes here to take the bridal suite ? ViN. My persistent nature, I've been here for over three years, and I've never had a couple in the bridal suite yet. They always want separate rooms. E7iter YLE.m..from bar, R. Keel, {discovering Mary). Mary Gilbert, by all that's holy! Mary. Why, Henry Keeler, how do you do ? Keel. What are you doing in Reno ? Mary. Not what you suspect. I'm still single. Keel. It's been months since I saw you last. Why did you leave Frisco ? Mary. More money here. Keel. I inquired at the Palace where you had gone, but no one seemed to know, or I'd have been here long before this. Mary. I see you're still the same old joUier. Keel. No jolly about that, Mary. I've been lonesome since you left Frisco. Mary. We did have some good times, didn't we? Keel. Well, rather ! Nothing like them since you left. Do you remember the night the crowd went out to the country club and the car broke down and we had to walk back in the rain ? Mary. Yes. And do you remember the night Billy Fer- guson and Mary Wheeler eloped and we caught them at the ferry building Keel. And took them back up town Mary. And entertained them against their wills till morn- ing Keel. And then had Billy arrested on a fake warrant ? Mary. Oh, those were great days ! What's become of the bunch ? Keel. I don't know. I lost all interest in it after you left. Mary {lightly). Careful ! ALIAS BROWN 23 Keel. Honest. I haven't been out with them once since. Mary. What have you been doing ? Keel. Nothing much. Just running around Marv. Enjoying yourself. Keel. Trying to. It's been pretty lonesome since you left. Mary. You are losing your skill at repartee. You said that once before. Keel. That's because it's on my mind. Mary. Are you married yet ? Keel. Still the same suspicious Mary, I see. Mary. I was only curious to know. Keel. You always were a strict observer of the proprieties. I suppose that if I were to tell you I was married, you'd end this conversation right now. Mary {laughing). Not so bad as that. But a girl in my position has to be strict — and I've grown more so since I've been here. You haven't answered my question yet. Keel. Mary, you will never hear of my getting married so long as you are single. Mary. Still the same old Henry. Keel. It's like getting back home to see you again. I've been awfully lone Mary. Three times ! Well, I have / Have you an engagement to-night ? No. Keel. Mary. Keel. Mary. Keel. Mary. Keel. Mary. Will you take dinner with me? I'd love to. Then we'll go to a show, if there is one. That sounds like old times. Doesn't it ? I've been awfully lone There, there. I believed you the first time. (Mrs. L. comes down the stairs.) Keel. What time shall I call ? Mary. About six ? In the parlor ? Keel. I'll be there at a minute of six. (Mrs. L. drops her handkerchief as she passes Keel., and continues to c. Keel., picking it up.) Madam, you dropped your hand- kerchief. (^Crosses to c. and hands it to her.) Enter Logan, d. f. \ comes down to r. c. Mrs. L. Thank you. 24 ALIAS BROWN {^Takes the proffered handkercliief a?id for a moment it ap- pears as though they were holding hafids.) Logan. My wife ! (Richie opens bar door, r., and sticks his head out.) Richie. Oh, Brown ! (Keel, fails to realize that he is addressed.) Brown ! Come here a minute, will you? (Keel, suddenly understands that he is meafit, gives a swift look at Mary, as if to read her thoughts.) Mary {vaguely, not comprehe7iding). Brown ? Logan {venomously). Brown ! Mary {as the suspicion dawns — /// consternation, forming the word, but not speaking it). Brown ! Keel, {to Richie). All right. (Richie's head disappears. Keel, starts over to r.) Logan {as Keel, reaches him). Are you a cigar sales- man ? Keel, {forcing a cigar into Logan's mouth). Yes; have a sample. {Exit Keel., r. Logan tears the cigar from his 7nouth and throius it on the floor angrily, folds his arms a?id glares at his wife.) Logan {knowingly and triumphantly). Ah, ha ! Brown ! (Mary stands wide-eyed. Mrs. L. looks from one to the other in astonishment.) CURTAIN ACT II SCENE. — The hotel parlor, r. is the entrance to the dining- room. L. are two large arches runfiiiig up stage. The back is a succession of large wi?idows run?ii?ig across the stage, through which can be see7i the buildings on the opposite side of the street. The room is finished in green a7id yellow, with heavy curtains at the arches and lighter ones at the windows. Heavy carpet on floor. There are potted palms off L. just behind the arches, carried off by interior backing. A pia7w stands i?i the corner up r. A small writing table stands down l. at wall, one down r. at zvall and another up stage. Various easy chairs about. Time is 6 : oo P. M. ttfid the lights on stage are on, the street drop at back being but dimly outlined in the twilight. Duri?ig the act the light on the back drop should be gradually worked from early evening light to moonlight. {At rise discover Mrs. M. sitti?ig at writing table doivn l., btisily writing. The rattle of chi?ia, the clank of silver against the dishes, the chink of ice in glass and the in- distinct fnurmur of a number of people in animated con- versation is borfie in from the dining- roofn off w. This continues for a brief period, duri?ig which Mrs. M. glances up ofice or twice. Then enter Mr. M. ^;/^ Waters, d. r. Waters is handi?ig Mr. M. a cigar as they enter.) Waters. I think you will find that a good cigar, Mortimer. They are the best I can get here. Mr. M. Thank you. Anything that will take away the taste of that dinner will be welcome. Waters. It wasn't much, was it? Mr. M. The cuisine is atrocious. Too bad, too, for other- wise the hotel is fairly good. Waters. Tut, tut, my boy, you mustn't complain. Re- member you're not on Broadway. Mr. M. I'm not likely to overlook it. Waters, I think I shall grow to positively dislike you. 25 26 ALIAS BROWN Waters. Why ? Mr. M. Do you realize what you are condemning me to? Waters. Now, Mortimer, I've explained to you before the necessity for this divorce. Mr. M. Oh, 1 don't object to that. But think, man; I shall have to stay in this hole for the next six months. Waters. Well? Mr. M. And it's all your fault. Waters {crossing to Mrs. M., l.). Ah, good-evening, Mrs. Mortimer. Not dining ? Mrs. M. No, I smelled the cooking in time. Waters. But you will be hungry. Mrs. M. Not so long as I can remember the odor. Mr. Waters, you are putting us to a lot of trouble. Waters. I realize it, but business, you know Mrs. M. Of course. Waters. Mortimer, shall we smoke ? Mr. M. Yes. {They start out l.) Mrs. M. Mortimer! {The men stop.) I would like to see you for a moment. Mr. M. (/^Waters). Excuse me? Waters. Certainly. \_Exit, l. 2. Mr. M. {drawing up chair and sitting near her). Well, Bee? Mrs. M. Do you remember the girl 1 spoke to you about this morning? Mr. M. The one you recommend as your successor ? Mrs. M. Yes ; the one whose picture I showed you. Mr. M. To be sure. What did you say her name was ? Mrs. M. Alice Elliott was her maiden name. I have for- gotten her husband's name. What do you think of her? Mr. M. You can't tell much from a photograph. I have seen pictures of you that were simply beautiful. Mrs. M. Immediately after our conversation this morning, I wired her to come here. Mr. M. Here ! Why ? Mrs. M. So that you can meet her. Mr. M. Couldn't you give me a letter of introduction ? This is a beastly place to live in when one doesn't have to. Mrs. M. But think of the time you will save. You will have to remain here for the next six months. If she comes here your courtship will be all over by the time the decree is granted. ALIAS BROWN 27 Mr. M. It's a bully idea, Bee ! I don't know what I'm going to do without you to think of things like that for me. Mrs. M. You'll get along. Mr. M. What will you do during those six months ? Mrs. M. I've been talking it over with Mr. Waters. You will ask for the divorce. That will leave me free to go east and prepare for next season. I've a lot of studying to do, and then there are the new gowns. Mr. M. When will she be here ? Mrs. M. Perhaps to-morrow. I can't say. Mr. M. I think I'll join Waters now. D'ye mind ? Mrs. M. Not at all. Run along. \^Exit Mr. M., l. 2. Enter Richie, l. i. Richie (he is agai?i i?itoxicated. He does not stagger y but is a little uncertain on his feet. He runs into the chair just vacated by Mr. M.). I beg your pardon. {Makes an elaborate bow and backs i?ito Mrs. M. Turns.) And yours too. Ev'rybody seems so res'less to-night. (He straightens up and they look at each other. His face takes on a puzzled expres- sion.) I beg your pardon, but your face looks familiar. Mrs. M. There's something about you that seems familiar. Richie. 'Scuseme; no offense meant. Mrs. M. Not that. Haven't I met you somewhere ? Richie. I've been there. Mrs. M. May I ask your name? Richie. Cer'ainly. M' name's Richie. Mr. Thomas Richie. Mrs. M. I can't place the name. It must be a resemblance to some one, but I thought at first I had met you. Richie. I've seen you before, I know. VVha's your name? Mrs. M. Mrs. Mortimer. Richie. Oh, you're actress ! Mrs. M. Yes. Richie. Tha's it. Seen you on th' stage. Fine, too. Fine. Goo* show. Bes' ever saw. 'Scuse th' interruption. Goin' dinner. \^Exity d. r. Mrs. M. {looking after hini). I wonder {Shakes her head and sits.) Enter Keel., l. 2. Glances at Mrs. M. as he passes her and crosses to R. c. Just as he gets across the sta. i^. Enter Waters, d. r. Rastus comes down stairs with trunk. Rastus. Amdisyour trunk, sah? Waters. Yes. Here. (_Reaelus in pocket, produces coin and hands it to RastuS.) fv^s. ^r^^rrs;t,e^ht^^^^-i-^ "Tastus. Yes, sah. Yes, sah, I's got to. S?.- gri'.^'t^~oromohi,es. Tsbuyin- liberty. Waters. Liberty . ^^^^j^3 ^^^^^ divorce. Waters. Divorce ! , . . -r. Ss ^^ f ^^s:M;-or: ho isn. here .or a Se?' (7-. Vm.) I'll bet that's why you're here. {Exit Rastus, d. f., with trunk.) Vm You lose, Mr. Waters. I have mine. Waters. Then what are you doing here f t. t„ok all to get out of town or, account of the ahmony. 48 ALIAS BROWN Waters {to Mont.). Well, my boy, I suppose you're here for a divorce, too. Mont. Me ? Not on yer movin' pitchers. Waters. You are a little young. But your time will come. Mont. Nit, governor ! No weddin' bells for muh. Waters. You may change your mind. Mont. Naw, I've had enough of married life. Me mudder an' de old man come here last year to get their divorce. And when dey got it, neither of dem would take muh, and I had to go to work, see ! Enter Mr. M. down stairs^ L. Mr. M. Good-morning, Waters. Waters. Good-morning, Mortimer, Are you and Mrs. Mortimer occupying the same apartments ? Mr. M. Certainly. Waters. Now, my boy, that won't do. That's liable to cause talk. Mr. M. I fail to see why. Waters. You are here for a divorce, and you and your wife are occupying the same apartments ? It's scandalous. Mr. M. But we are not quarreling. Waters. That's it. Why aren't you ? Here, I'm doing everything I can to help you ; circulating all kinds of stories about you ; trying to convince the judge that your married life is a hollow mockery — and you two go about billing and cooing like a couple of jackasses. Mr. M. Waters, we'll be separated in six months from now. Why can't we be happy until then ? Waters. Because I say so. You've got to move over to the other hotel until Mrs. Mortimer leaves here. Mr. M. What ! Waters. If the judge ever saw you two together he'd throw rice at you instead of divorcing you. Now, you come with me and we'll find you other quarters. Mr. M. But I don't want Waters. It doesn't make any difference what you want. You'll do as I say. {They exeunt, D. F. Enter Mrs. Thomas Richie, d. f. Mrs. R. {at desk). Is Mrs. Mortimer registered here? ViN. Y^s, rna'am, ALIAS BROWN 49 Mrs. R. (^producing cardy Will you send my card up, please ? ViN. (ringing bell. Mont, frofit^. Take this card up to Mrs. Mortimer, in 45. [^Exii Mont., stairs l. (Mrs. R. crosses to l. E7iter Richie, d. r.) Richie. Mrs. R I (together). | ^^\ {She opens her arms, he rushes across to her, brace and kiss warmly.) They em- Richie. Mrs. R. Richie. Mrs. R. Richie. I saw you. Mrs. R. Tom, stand back. paces.) Now, walk over to me. your breath. {He does so.) (delightedly). You old darling, you're sober ! My dear, 1 haven't had a drink in all those weary Lord, but I'm glad to see you, little girl ! It's been six months since you kissed me. Six long, weary months. It seems like a year. I never realized how much I had missed you until (He steps back about four (He does so.) Let me smell Mrs. R. Richie. six months. Mrs. R. Richie. Mrs. R. Honestly ? Well, maybe one or two, but nothing to mention. Bless his old heart ! Kiss me again ! (They kiss.) Richie. Oh, what are we doing — what are we doing ? Mrs. R. Tom, what is it ? What is wrong ? Richie. I'm a cad, a despicable cad. I had forgotten. Mrs. R. Tom dear, what is it ? Richie. I have no right to kiss you ! Mrs. R. No right ! What do you mean ? Richie. The divorce ! Mrs. R. Yes, yes ! Richie, I got it day before yesterday. I had forgotten. Mrs. R. Then we are single again ? Richie. Yes. Forgive me for kissing you. Mrs. R. So that is why you are in Reno. I knew you were here but I had forgotten why. JRiCHiE. You know, I promised tp get the cjiyorc^, 50 ALIAS BROWN Mrs. R. Yes, I remember now. You couldn't leave liquor alone, so we agreed to separate. Richie. Well, we're separated, all right. You'll forgive me for kissing you, won't you? I meant no disrespect. Mrs. R. It's all right, Tom. But it mustn't happen again. Richie. I suppose you'll marry again ? Mrs. R. I don't know, Tom. Richie. What are you doing here? Mrs. R. Mrs. Mortimer telegraphed me to come on impor- tant business. (Mrs. M. appears on balcony.') Ah, there she is now. Will you excuse me ? Richie. Certainly. {Crosses to d. r.) Mrs. R. Tom, you're going into the bar. Richie. Yes, I — I want a cigar. [Exity d. r. (Mrs. M. comes down stairs, l.) Mrs. M. Ah, my dear Alice, how do you do ? Mrs. R. Beatrice. {They kiss.) Mrs. M. Sit down, my dear girl. {They sit.) I see you received my telegram. Mrs. R. Yes, and I jumped on the next train. It seemed very importunate. Mrs. M. I wanted to see you at once. Mrs. R. Nothing is amiss, I hope ? Mrs. M. Yes, and no. I am in no serious trouble, but I need your help. Mrs. R. Rest assured, you shall have it. Mrs. M. I knew I could depend upon you. Mrs. R. Now, tell me all about it. Mrs. M. I am going to divorce Mortimer. Mrs. R. Divorce him ! I thought you were as happy as two little love bees. Mrs. M. We are, but my manager insists that it is neces- sary for the sake of advertising. Mrs. R. Oh, I see. Mrs. M. But first, have you gotten your papers yet ? Mrs. R. Day before yesterday. My husband secured them to save me the trouble. You know, I have been so busy. Mrs. M. That's fine. Things are working out splendidly. Mh§. R, You arouse ray curiosity, What is it ? ALIAS BROWN 51 Mrs. M. I want you to marry Mortimer. Mrs. R. Why, I don't know the man ! Mrs. M. That's why I wired for you. I want to introduce you. Mrs. R. This is rather sudden, Beatrice. You see Mrs. M. He is a splendid fellow, Alice, and I know you will like him. And he has been so nice to me about my divorce that I want to do something big for him, and you are the nicest girl I know. Mrs. R. But I'm not sure that I want to marry again. Mrs. M. You will when you meet Mortimer. He is an adorable man for a woman who can afford a husband. Mrs. R. But Tom was adorable too, when he was sober. Mrs. M. Which was ? Mrs. R. Seldom, I admit. But he has so many good traits that I will be apt to look for them in any other man I regard seriously. Mrs. M. You will find them in Mortimer. And, also, he has no vices. Mrs. R. Then he is not a man — he is an angel. Mrs. M. Won't you consider it, Alice ? Mrs. R. Let me see him first. Your proposition is so sud- den that I must have time to think it over. Mrs. M. That's right ; you should consider it carefully. Enter Mr. M., d. f. Mrs. R. But I do appreciate one thing, Beatrice, and that is your sweet thoughtfulness in remembering me. Mr. M. Good-morning, my dear. Mrs. M. Ah, here you are ! Mrs. What was your married name, dear ? Mrs. R. Richie. Mrs. M. Mrs. Richie, I want you to meet Mr. Mortimer. Mortimer, this is the girl I told you I had wired for. I hope you two will become very good friends. Mr. M. So do I— for your sake {looking at Mrs. R. with an admiring sigh) and for my own as well. Mrs. M. Now, you two talk things over. I have some packing to do. [Exit up stairs, l. Mr. M. {manifesting great admiration). Mrs. Richie, shall we sit on the piazza or stroll on the hotel grounds? This morning air is delightfully cool and pleasant. 52 Alias brown Mrs. R. Perhaps it would be nicer. It is very close and stuffy in here. \_They exeunt ^ d. f. Enter La Rue, d. f. La Rue. Good-morning, Allgood. ViN. Good-morning, La Rue. La Rue. Say, has that Keeler party showed up here yet ? (Mary comes down stairs and sits at her desk.) ViN. Not yet. There was only one arrival this morning, and that was a woman. La Rue. I guess he didn't come to Reno. Any news ? ViN. No. Everything's quiet. Enter Billy, d. f. Billy. Morning, everybody I Y ' !■ Good-morning, Billy. Billy. Got a story for me this morning ? ViN. Not a thing. Billy. You never do have. Have you. La Rue ? La Rue. Nothing yet, Billy. Call 'round at the office in a couple of hours. Billy. All right, I will. Have you found Keeler yet ? La Rue. No ; I guess he didn't come here. Billy. Then I'll give you a story for a change. La Rue. Good for you ! Billy. Keeler is in this hotel. ViN. He's not registered. Billy. I know ; not as Keeler, but he is here. La Rue. How do you know ? Billy. Met him last night. La Rue. What ! Billy. Yes. Was introduced to him. I don't know what name he is going under, but he was introduced as Keeler and acknowledged it. Enter Richie, d. r. La Rue (to Richie). Say, friend, have you seen a party this morning by the name of Keeler? Richie. Haven't seen him, but he's here. La Rue. Sure ? ALIAS BROWN 53 Richie. Yes, he's around somewhere. La Rue. Would you know him if you saw him ? Richie. Well, rather. La Rue. I wish you'd look around with me and point him out. Richie. Be glad to. Let's go outside. He may be on the verandah. \_Exeunt Richie and La Rue, d. f. Billy {crossing to Mary). Good-morning, Mary. Mary (shortly). Good-morning. Billy. My, but we're chilly this morning. What's the matter ? Mary. Nothing. Billy. You're like a barometer. Last night you stood for sunny weather — to-day, storms. Mary. Why did you tell La Rue that Keeler is here ? Billy. Because he asked me. Mary. He didn't ask you — you volunteered the informa- tion. Didn't I introduce you to Mr. Keeler last night ? Billy. Yes. Mary. That would indicate that he's my friend. Billy. Granted. Mary. Do you suppose I want my friends arrested ? Billy {in self-defefise). You two didn't seem overly cordial last night. Mary. Which would indicate that we are friends — with the barometer at stormy. People who are indifferent to each other are always polite. Billy, why did you tell La Rue that Mr. Keeler is here ? Billy. Because he asked me. Mary. Tell me the truth, Billy. Billy. Because Mary. The truth, Billy. You can't deceive me. Billy. I know I can't. No one can. I did it because I love you ! Last night, the minute we left the parlor, your gay- ety all disappeared in a flash. All evening long you were dis- traught, moody, melancholy. I knew then that it was on ac- count of Keeler, for no man you didn't care for could work upon you Hke that. I wanted him out of the way. Mary. And still you say you love me. Billy. He's a crook, Mary, or the police wouldn't be after him. Mary. That makes no difference. If you really loved me as you say you do, you would try to save him for my sake. 54 ALIAS BROWN Billy. Mary, I'm not built that way Mary. I know you're not, now, and at last I understand why I have always mistrusted you. You've got a yellow streak, that's your weak spot. Billy, last night if you had asked me to marry you I think I would have said ^' Yes," for I was beside myself with disappointment in him. To-day I'm stronger, but I'm doubly disappointed, for I have lost what I thought was a friend in you. Billy. Mary ! Mary. It's all over, Billy. I can't trust you any more, and that is the basis of everything worth while. Billy. And this other fellow ? Mary. How I feel toward him doesn't concern you — but I don't mind telling you that that is all over, too. Billy. Mary ! Mary. Good-bye, Billy. [Exit into dining-room, l. {Exit Billy, d. f. Keel, comes down stairs, l. ; crosses to desk.) ViN. Good -morning, Mr. Brown. Keel. Good-morning. I wish you'd make out my bill. ViN. Going to leave us ? Keel. Yes ; I'm going over to the other hotel. ViN. I hope you are not dissatisfied. Keel. No, everything's all right, but I have some friends here who don't relish my society, and I'm going to give them a treat by leaving. ViN. That's too bad. Keel. I'm much obliged for your sympathy. ViN. My brother smoked that cigar last night. Keel, {indifferently). Yes? ViN. And he said it was fine — best he ever smoked. Keel. I'm glad he liked it. Here are some more ; they are all I have or I'd be more generous. {Throws cigars on desk.) I'll have to buy another box. ViN. I beg your pardon ? Keel. I mean I'll have to get another box from my sample case. ViN. Thank you, sir. Keel. Don't mention it. Enter Mr. «;^^ Mrs. 1-,. from dining-room, L. Mrs. L. My dear, if you'd only let me explain ALIAS BROWN 55 Logan. You've done nothing but explain ever since we ar- rived here, and you have only succeeded in the more absolutely convincing me of your guilt. Mrs. L. Listen, dear Logan. I've listened until my head aches. Everywhere I go I see him — Brown — Brown. He sat right next to us at breakfast, the impertinent scoundrel — surreptitiously holding your hand, I have no doubt. Mrs. L. Jim, you are beside yourself. Logan. I've stood all of it I'm going to, I tell you ! He had the effrontery to speak to me as he left the table. Mrs. L. Why shouldn't he? Logan. Why — woman, you'll drive me mad ! Mrs. L. I've told you a million times I never saw that man until yesterday. Logan. Yes, and another million times wouldn't convince me. His name is Brown, he is a cigar drummer, and the first time I saw him he was holding your hand. Mrs. L. He was not ! Logan. That's a matter of opinion. Mrs. L. My opinion is as good as yours. Logan. Very well. I'll give you an opportunity to render an opinion of my upper cuts when I next meet this brazen philanderer, Brown. {Discovers Keel.) Ah, there you are ! {Pause. Keel, comes dowfi and faces him.) What did you mean by speaking to me in the dining-room? Keel. My democratic spirit. Sometimes I don't care who I speak to. Logan. Is your name Brown? Keel. No. Logan. Last night you said it was. Keel. I know, but I've changed my mind since then. Logan. Ah, ha, you are trying to escape the punishment that's due you, but it's no use. Keel. Now, see here. Desperate Desmond, listen to sense. Logan. Don't talk that way to me, sir. Keel. You started this conversation. Logan. Your name is Brown. Keel. Very well, if you insist. Logan. You are a cigar salesman. Keel, {forcing; cigar in Logan's mouth). Have a sample, Logan. If you do that again I'll shoot you ! Keel. I won't. That weis my last cigar, 56 ALIAS BROWN Logan. You have been carrying on an intrigue with my wife. Keel, (^groivijig serious). Now, see here. This has gone far enough. You can talk to me as you hke, but if you have no respect for your wife — 1 have. Logan. Yes, and more. Keel. Silence ! I never saw the lady until yesterday, and I don't want another word from you. ^ Logan. Of course you don't, you cur ! Take that ! {He strikes at Keel., who catches his wrists a?id holds them.') Mrs. L. Jim ! Efiier Mrs. 'B.from dining-room, l. Mrs. B. What is the matter ? What is all this loud talk about ? Logan. Mrs. Brown, come here ! (Mrs. B. crosses to the men.) Logan. Your husband has been Mrs. B. My husband ! Logan. Yes, he Mrs. B. That is not my husband ! (Keel, releases Logan.) Logan. What ! Mrs. B. I never saw that man before. (Logan turris to his wife, who turns away from him. He turns to Keel., who stands with his arms folded. Logan drops his head and creeps out, d. f.) Mrs. L. {turning to Mrs. B. supplicatingly). Mrs. Brown ! Mrs. B. {foldifig her arms). Don't talk to me. I believe you to be as guilty as he does. Remember, I am here for a divorce and you will be named as corespondent. {Exit into dinifig-rooom, l.) Keel, {offering his arm). Mrs. Logan, may I see you up stairs ? (Keel, and Mrs. L. start to l. As they do so Mary (.titers froni dining-ropm, l., and th^ three meet down l, ALIAS BROWN 57 An almost wiper ceptible pause. Keel, looks at Mary, she holds her head high, chin in the air. Mrs. L. and Keel, go up stairs, arm in arm, a?id exit. Mary watches them for a moment, then crosses to r. a?id exits ^ D. f.) Enter Richie and Mr^. R., d. f. Mrs. R. Tom, I would like to know by what right you came out and almost bodily took me away from Mr. Mortimer. Richie. By right of my injured feelings. Mrs. R. Injured feelings ? Richie. Yes. You should show a little respect to the de- parted. We've been divorced only two days. Mrs. R. I was only talking to Mr. Mortimer. Richie. You were not. You were flirting with him I Mrs. R. Well, what if I was ? I like him. (Mrs. M. comes down stairs y l., and sits L.) Richie. You have no right to. Mrs. R. Why not ? Richie. So soon, I mean. Enter Mr. M. jauntily, d. f. Mr. M. Good-morning, Mr. Richie. {Smiles fatuously at Mrs. R.) Richie (shortly). How do you do ? (Mr. M. crosses and sits by his wife.) Mrs. M. Well, Mortimer, what do you think of her ? Mr. M. Bee, she's simply perfect ! Mrs. M. You like her ? Mr. M. Like her ! I'm wild about her ! Bee, this is positively the very nicest thing you ever did for me. Mrs. M. (dryly). I'm glad you appreciate it. Mr. M. She has the most expressive eyes I ever saw. Mrs. M. (with a touch of jealousy). I hadn't noticed. Mr. M. And her smile ! Did you ever see such a beauti- ful smile before ? Mrs. M. She has a very good dentist, I believe. Mr. M. I — of course, I'm going to miss you dreadfully; but I think she and I were just made for each other. Mrs. M. (acidly). How lovely. 58 ALIAS BROWN Mr. M. Really, old lady, I can't tell you how Mrs. M. Old lady, indeed ! I'd have you understand I'm only five years older than she is. {They fall into an animated discussion.') Richie. What did Mrs. Mortimer want to see you about? Mrs. R. She's going to divorce Mortimer, you know. Richie. Is that so ? Mrs. R. And she wants me to marry him. Richie {with a very different expressioti). Is that so ! Mrs. R. What do you mean by that ? Don't you want to see me happy ? Richie (trying to cover'). Oh, yes, yes — yes — yes. Mrs. R. Really, I don't know why I am telling you this. Richie. Because you want to make me miserable. Mrs. R. Why, we are nothing to each other. Richie. Oh, no, no, of course not. But a man doesn't like to be forgotten so soon, even if he is divorced. {They talk aside, deeply ifiterested.) Mrs. M. What does she think of the idea? Mr. M. Well, to be perfectly frank, she didn't seem — 1 wouldn't say she was wildly enthusiastic. (Mrs. M. sighs with relief.) Of course, she doesn't know me very well yet. Mrs. M. Don't you think that's rather in your favor? Mr. M. Still, we'll get acquainted fast enough when you are gone. Mrs. M. I have no doubt of that. Mr. M. Look at her now. See how her color comes and goes. Mrs. M. It's nothing to the way it goes when she retires. {They talk.) Richie. Do you really mean to say you like that fellow ? Mrs. R. (teasingly). Yes, really. Richie. And you are going to marry him ? Mrs. R. I didn't say so. Richie {eagerly). Then, you're not? Mrs. R. I didn't say that, either. Richie. What are you going to do ? Mrs. R. There's no telling what I'll do — when you have gone. {Runs up stage to r. c.) ALIAS BROWN 59 Richie. Alice ! Mr. M. (f'isifig). Mrs. Richie ! Are you going out ? Mrs. R. {sweetly). Yes, Mr. Mortiaier. Mr. M. May 1 go with you ? Mrs. R. I should be delighted. (Mr. M. crosses to Mrs. R. They start out.) Mr. M. Do you know, in all my life, I don't think I ever before really cared [ They exeunt y D. f. Mrs. M. So you are Mr. Richie. Richie. Yes, ma'am. Mrs. M. I thought last night I had seen you before, but I couldn't remember where. It was at your wedding. Richie. It is remarkable that you remembered me at all. People hardly ever see the groom. Mrs. M. How do you think my husband and your wife will hit it off? Richie. Present appearances would indicate a perfect match. Mrs. M. {^ivith a sigh). I feel very old to-day. Richie. Yes, you look rather — I mean, I feel very dry. Will you have a Mrs. M. No, thank you. [Exit up stairs ^ L. Richie. Don't mention it. {^Exit, D. r. Mary efiters, d. f. Crosses to her desk down l. and sits, her elbows on the desk, her chin on her hands. Short pause. Keel, comes down stairs, L. Keel, {statiding at r. side of desk for a moment ; speaking like a spanked little boy). Mary. {Pause.) Mary. {Toys with a lock of her hair.) Mary. {She brushes his hand aivay without turfiifig her face.) Mary had a little lamb — and it turned out to be a little black sheep. {Pause.) Mary. Ah, Mary. {Cries like a kitten.) Meow. Meow. Meow. {Short pause. Makes sound like a puppy whifiifig.) Mary {sudde?ily breaking into a little laugh). Henry ! {Sets her face in a mask again.) Keel. That's better ; laugh. Laugh and the world laughs with you ; sweep and you wear out the broom. 60 ALIAS BROWN Mary (trying hard ?iot to giggle). I'm not laughing be- cause I'm pleased with you. Keel. Laugh again, honey. Treat it all as a joke for just a moment, and listen. You feel pretty much cut up, I know, but you couldn't feel a tenth as badly as I do. {She rises.) Won't you listen ? Mary. Five minutes ago I saw you go up stairs with that woman on your arm. Keel. 1 know, and I can't explain that now. I can, but you wouldn't believe me. Mary. Then why do you insist that you are innocent ? Keel. Because 1 am. Mary. What were you doing with that woman ? Keel. You won't believe my Sacramento story? Mary. No. Keel. Why ? Mary. Because it is preposterous. Keel. If I brought proofs of my assertions, would you ac- cept them ? Mary. Of course. Keel. If, in proving that my story about the prize-fight were true, it would entail a jail sentence for me, when I was released, would you forgive me? Mary. Yes, if the other were not true. (Keel, crosses to r. c.) Keel. Mr. Allgood, have you seen La Rue this morning ? Mary {apprehe7isively). La Rue ! ViN. Yes, sir, just a few minutes ago. Keel. I'd like to see him. Mary. Henry, don't send for that man — I — I — believe . Enter La Rue, d. f. ViN. Mr. La Rue, there's a gentleman here wants to see you. La Rue. All right, {^Conies down to Keel. Mary covers her face.) Keel. Are you looking for a man by the name of Keeler ? La Rue. I sure am, friend. Keel. On what authority ? La Rue. Wire from the chief at Sacramento. ALIAS BROWN 6 1 Keel. (Jooking at Mary ; pause). I'm your man. La Rue. Last night you told me your name was Brown. Keel. That was to avoid arrest. La Rue {astonished). Arrest ! Keel. Yes. La Rue. I have no warrant for you. Keel. Then why do you want La Rue {pulling out telegram). I have just had the sec- ond wire from the chief at Sacramento to locate you, if possible. Keel. There are no charges ? La Rue. Fifty cents. Keel. I mean against me ? La Rue. What are you talking about ? If you are Keeler, I want to congratulate you. Keel. Congratulate La Rue. The chief at Sacramento wires me to locate you and tell you that your great-uncle at Sacramento died last night and left you ^100,000.00. Keel, {in despair). And I hoped you would arrest me. But what about the prize-fight ? La Rue. What prize-fight ? Keel. At Sacramento. La Rue. Haven't heard anything about a prize-fight. Man, your good fortune has gone to your head. I'm going to wire Sacramento that I've found you and to send a nurse after you. \_Exitf D. F. Keel. Mary Mary. I have nothing to say to you, and you can say nothing that would possibly interest me. \^Exit up stairs ^ l. Enter Richie, d. r. Richie. Keeler, what do you think Keel. Don't talk to me now. I like you, Richie, and I'm going to lick the first man I meet in order to relieve myself. \_Exit, D. R. E7iter Mrs. R., d. f., running. Mrs. R. Tom, Tom, Tom, where are you ? Richie. Here I am, honey. What's the matter? Mrs. R. Put your arms around me ! Hold me close ! Richie. Why, honey ! Mrs. R. That man Mortimer tried to mnkf^ love to me — tried to — and he doesn't do it nearly so well as you do. 62 ALIAS BROWN Richie. He did that ! I'll Mrs. R. No, no, don't do anything foolish. We've been a couple of idiots. Don't let's be any worse. Richie. Why, honey, what do you mean ? Mrs. R. Have you got the least, httle, wee, tiny bit of regard left for me ? Richie. Why, I love you, honey. I've always loved you. Mrs. R. Then let's get married again, and start all over. Oh, Tom, I love you, I do love you. I've missed you more than I ever dreamed I could. Drink yourself to death if you want to, but take me back. Richie. Honey ! Mrs. R. Yes, Tom? Richie. If you will — if you will try me once more, we'll start all over again, and there'll be no such word as booze in our dictionary. Mrs. R. You mean it ? Richie. If I don't mean it, may your love for me perish. Mrs. R. Tom ! Kiss me ! {They kiss.) Richie. Now, you dry those eyes, and come with me. Mrs. R. Where are we going ? Richie {leading her up to desk). Mr. Allgood. ViN. Yes, sir. Richie. Telephone for a minister — a marrying one — imme- diately. {To her.) We're going for a license. [They exeunt ^ d. f. {Exit ViN. Mrs. M. comes down stairSy l. Sits l. c. ; takes out vanity bag, removes mirror, looks at herself, shakes her h^ad and sighs.) Enter Mr. M., d. f. Mrs. M. Mortimer, I'm an old woman. Mr. M. You're nothing of the sort, my dear. Mrs. M. I never realized it until I saw you with Mrs. Richie. And, Mortimer, I'm what I never thought I was — I'm jealous. Mr. M. Then it must be that you care for me. Mrs. M. I thought marriage was only a business arrange- ment — a partnership — but it is more. How much more I never realized until this last half hour. ALIAS BROWN 63 Mr. M. You mean you would miss me if we separated ? Mrs. M. More than I would care to admit. Mr. M. Then why separate? There are other managers beside Waters. Managers just as good. Mrs. M. Don't you want to marry her? Mr. M. Not if I can have you. Mrs. M. Kiss me. (^They kiss.) Enter Waters, d. f. Waters. What's this ! Kissing your own wife ! It's scan- dalous. Mrs. M. It's worse than that — we mean it. Mr. Waters, I wish to be released from our contract. Waters. What ! Mrs. M. I give you the usual notice. Waters. Why ? What's wrong now ? Mrs. M. Because I won't give Mortimer up for you or any other manager. Waters. Do you mean that ? Mrs. M. I most certainly do ! Waters. Oh, you're not feeling well — you're blue. Mrs. M. I never felt better in my life. You are a single man, Mr. Waters, and you don't understand. Waters. I certainly don't. This decision of yours is irrev- ocable ? Mrs. M. Absolutely ! Mr. M. Positively ! Waters. All right. But I don't want you to leave my management. We've been working together so long, I've got a little sentiment about it. I hate to give this up, but if you insist, we'll try some other advertising scheme. Mr. M. You will ? Waters. Sure. There's my hand. {Gives one hand to Mr. M., and the other to Mrs. M.) Now, let's go and get some breakfast. {They start toward dining-room, up 'L.') I have a scheme that ought to be pretty good. You see, it's this way \They exetint. Enter Mrs. L., stairs, l. Sits l. ^Mary's desk. Mrs. B. enters from dining-room. Sits R. 0/ Mary's desk. They turn and discover each other, throw their chins into the 64 ALIAS BROWN air, and turn their backs to each other. During this busi- ness ViN. enters and goes behind counter y and Keel, en- ters D. R., and crosses to desk. Keel. Allgood, have you a time table ? ViN. Yes, sir. {Hands him one.') When are you leaving ? Keel. First train I can get. Your climate doesn't agree with me. ViN, Where are you going ? Keel. Search me. ViN. I beg your pardon. Keel. I don't know — and I don't care. Enter John Brown, d. f. Mary appears on balcony, starts down stairs, overhears conversation, stands about half- way up, and listens. Brown. Is Mrs. John Brown registered here ? Vin. Yes, sir. Brown. I am her husband. Page her. Never mind. I see her. ( Crosses to Mrs. B.) My dear Mrs. B. Don't you " My dear " me ! Brown {taki?ig e?ivelope from his coat pocket). What's the meaning of this note you sent me? Mrs. B. {pointing to Mrs. L.). Ask her. Brown. How do you do, Mrs. Logan ? Sorry I didn't get around to see you before I left, but the firm sent me out in a hurry. Mrs. B. (rising). Before my very eyes! This is too much ! Brown. Where are you going, my dear ? Mrs. B. Out of this fulsome air of intrigue. Brown {positively). You — are — not ! You are going to tell me why you sent this note, threatening divorce. I would have been here yesterday, but I fell asleep on the train and was carried by. Enter Logan, d. f. He crosses to r. c. Mrs. B. You have been carrying on an affair with this Mrs. Logan. {Points disdaif fully.) Brown. With Marie Logan ! What nonsense ! Why, we went to school together. 1 used to wash her face in the snow. Mrs. B. {prodNcing note and handing it to him). Then ex- plain this note — if you can. ALIAS BROWN 65 Brown. I never saw that before. Mrs. B. For a very good reason. Mr. Logan got hold of the original, sent me a copy, and is himself here for a divorce. Brown. Well, he's a bigger fool than I thought he was. Now, I'll show yon the first note she sent mt. Fortunately I have it. (JFumbles in Jus satchel.') Here it is. Read that. {Hands her the note.) Mrs. B. {reading). "Dear Mr. Brown: Next Friday is our first wedding anniversary. I want to buy Jamee a smoking sot in commemoration. Will you please bring an assortment up some afternoon when he is at the office, that I raay make a selection?" Brown. Now, there's your divorce evidenco. What are you going to do ? Mrs. B. I'm a silly old fool. Mrs. Logan, will you, can you forgive me ? Brown. Now, that's all nonsense. Judging by the varied assortment of cheap expressions around here, I rather fancy you've all been behaving like a lot of kids. {Turns to Logan.) Is your name Logan ? Logan {sheepishly). Yes, sir. Brown. I thought so. You look like the kind of a man who would make this sort of an exhibition of yourself. Logan. Marie, will you — can you Brown. Cut that out, Logan. You have all no doubt said things you should never be forgiven for. But you all meant well, because you loved each other. Now, take my advice, say nothing more about it, kiss and forg-et it. Ready : Logan, kiss your wife. (Logan does so.) Now, my dear, kiss me. {She does so.) Now, everything's settled, so far as you are con- cerned, and I'm free to look for the sun of a gun who stole my cards on the train ! Mrs. B. a thief? Brown. Yes; a gentleman thief, too. I wouldn't have be- lieved it of him. He looked as innocent as a fresh laid ^gg. And he took them, every one. Keel, {coming down and holding out cards). Here's the most of them, sir. If you will let me buy you a drink I can explain Brown. A drink ! You go to thunder ! I want satisfac- tion, and I'm going to have it. Then over to the police for a cheap thief you go. {JRolls up his shcvis,) 66 ALIAS BROWN Mary (^from the stairs'). Mr. Brown ! Brown. How do you do, miss ? Marv. I've never met you, but I'm going to ask a favor of you. Let him go. It was only a joke, and he will never do it again; will you, Henry? Keel, {j-ushing up stairs to her). Never, so long as I live. Brown. But that's — that's not the point. Mary. You have pleaded leniency for the others. Let me plead leniency for him. Do as you would be done by. Brown. Very well, miss ; to accommodate a lady, I will. But if I ever catch him at it again Keel. You never will, sir, I assure you. (Keel, puts his arm aroufid Mary and they smile happily at each other.) Enter Richie and Mrs. R., d. f., arm in arm. Richie {waving license). We've got it ! We've got the license. We're going to be married ! Allgood, what about that parson ? Keel. Mary, will you marry me ? Mary. Yes. Keel. Now ? Mary. If you wish. Keel. Allgood, make it two parsons. Vin. {coming down). I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I've telephoned all over the city, and there's not a minister in Reno who is familiar with the wedding service. CURTAIN New Plays LOST— A CHAPERON A Comedy in Three Acts By Courtney Bruerton and W. S. Mauhby Six male, nine female characters. Costumes modern ; scenery, an in- ferior and an easy exterior. Plays a full evening. An excellent comedy with the true college atmosphere but with its scenes away from actual col- lege life. A breezy lot of college girls in camp lose their chaperon for twenty-four hours, and are provided by a camp of college boys across the lake with plenty of excitement. The parts are all good and of almost equal opportunity, the situations are very funny and the lines full of laughs. This is sure to be liked by the young people for whom it is intended, and is strongly recommended for high-school performance. PricCy 2^ cents. CHARACTERS George Higgins, a Tuffs A. B. . . . Ernest S. Swenson Jack Abbott, \ Tuff s sub-freshmen, ca77i^- Stanley M. Brown Fred Lawton, I ing with Higgins . . Arthur J. Anderson Raymond Fitzhenry, a Harvard student Arthur T. Hale Dick Norton, ) ^r z;-// -. Ernest A. Larrabee Tom Crosby, } '•^-^'" ^««^^^^^^ • ' Ferdinand Bryham Marjorie Tyndall, George s cousin: a Smith girl Helen J. Martin Alice Bennett, \ Dorothy F. Entwistle Agnes Arabella Bates, I ay t • 7 Edith H. Bradford Ruth French, f J^^^f^^on gins Marjorie L. Henry Blanche Westcott, J Beatrice L. Davis Mrs. Higgins, the chaperon. George s mother Effie M. Ritchie Mrs. Sparrow, a farmer s wife. [Not in the original cast.) mInS,}^^''^-.^^^-^- SYNOPSIS Act L— The Girls* Camp at Sherwood, 7 A. M. Act n.— The Fellows' Camp at Sherwood, 8 A. M. Act hi. — Same as Act I, 10 a. m. A BRIDE FROM HOME A Vaudeville Sketch in One Act By Willis Steell Two male, two female characters. Costumes modern ; scene, an in" terior. Plays twenty minutes. A capital sketch of Hebrew life and character, combining good comedy with genuine pathos. Moves very swiftly and is very effective. Can be strongly recommended for either vaudeville use or for amateur theatricals. Price^ 1^ cents. New plays RED ACRE FARM A Rural Comedy Drama in Three Acts By Gordan V, May Author of *' Bar Haven,'' ''At Random Run' ^ etc. Seven reaves, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, oae interior, one exterior. Plays two hours. An easy and entertaining play with a well-balanced cast of oliaracters. The story is strong and sympathetic and the comedy elemeat varied and amusing. Barnaby Strutt is a great parrt for a good comedian ; " Junior " a close second. Strongly reconmiended. Price, 2 J cents CHARACTERS JosiAH Armstrong, the owner of Red Acre Farm. Colonel Barnaby Strutt, "Crawling Codwolloper^'* Jonah Jones, a farm helper. Squire Harcourt, who holds a mortgage, Harry Harcourt, his profligate son. Dick Randall, who seeks his fortune. Tom Busby, a traveling merchant. Amanda Armstrong, Josians wife. Nellie Armstrong, driven from home. Laura Armstrong, a poor, weak sinner. Mrs. Barnaby Ss'rutt, tke ColoneV s ivife. ** Junior," adopted daughter of the Si*'utts. SYNOPSIS Act I. — Living-room of Armstrong's home. Spring. Act IL — Garden in front of Armstrong's home. Summere Act HL — Same as Act L Winter. THE SPEED LIMIT A Sketch in Two Sceaes By Ernest M. Gould Five males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, unnecessary. Plays twenty minutes. A good-natured and effective skit on automobiling, very funny and very easy to get up. It requires no scenery or stage, but can be done on a platform just as weH. Its fun is extravagant, but it is otherwise suited for school perforntance. Price, 13 cents " WILLIAM " A Farce in One Act By W. C. Parker Two males, two females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays twenty minutes. A brisk little piece of the vaudeville order, easjf and full of laughs. All three parts are good ; strongly recommended Prict. ^ f cents J\. yj. Pinero's Plays Price, 50 gents Cacb Min TH ANNFI ^^^^ ^^ ^°^^ ^*'*^- ^^* males, five females. "**»-'">'**•"■*' *'*^" Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays two and a half hours. THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH ?jr' '^.^h"! males, five females. Costumes, modem; scenery, all interiors. Plays a full evening. THF PPHPIIfATF Play in Four Acts. Seven males, five mu riVV/rLilU/lli:i females. Scenery, three interiors, rather elaborate ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. THF QrUnni MIQTPCQQ Faroe in Three Acts. Nine males, inc. OLnUULIfllOlIVC.OO seven females. Costumee, mod ern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY |iJJ.'"^a°S,^SV, females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. QWFFT I AVFNriFP Comedy in Three Acts. Seven male«, OTiLtMUl LiAYlJl^UlJfV four females. Scene, a single interior, costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. TU17 TUITMnrDDm T Comedy in Four Acts. Ten males, ini:. inUrNUnKDULl nine females. Scenery, three interi- ors ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening, THF TIMF^ Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven female*. a full evening. Jingle interior ; costumes, modern. Plays THF WFAITFP QFY Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, ini:i TT£ii\IVCiIV DCtA. eight females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE ?re'^i,i?,r?:mi;:;; Costumes, modern; loene, a single Interior. Plays a full evening. Sent prepaid on receipt of price by Walttv ^. iBaker $c Companp No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 3^tcent ^opulai LIBRARY OF CONGRESS ■H 015 793 058 8 TUP AWAFPNINIi I*^y ^^ ^our Acts. By C. H. Chambkbs, llli; ATTAALillilU Four males, elx females. Scenery, not diffi- cult, chiefly interiors ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. Price, 60 Cents. THE FRDITS OF ENUiSTENMENT THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST Comedy in Four Acts. By L. TOLSTOI. Twenty- one males, eleven females. Scenery, characteristic interiors ; cos- tumes, modern. Plays a full evening. Recommended for reading clubs. Price, 25 Cents. HIS EXCELLENCY THE fiOYERNOR l"tlt^l^r.t''\U males, three females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one Interior. Acting rights reserved. Time, a full evening. Price, 60 Cents. AV inn if HFCnAVfl comedy in Four Acts. By Oscak "Wilde. AH llfCALf UUJDAnll Nine males, six females. Costumes, mod- em ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. Acting rights reeeryed. sold for reading. Price, 60 Cents. Farce In Three Acts. By OscAB Wilde. Five males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenes, two interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Acting rights re- served. Price, 60 Cents. LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN ^TSlZ'^sIZtlL.^Zi?!''^ males. Costumes, modem ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. Acting rights reserved. Price, 60 Cents. NATHAN HAIP I*lay in Four Acts. By Clyde Fitoh. Fifteen ilAillAi^ HALili males, four females. Costumes of the eighteenth century in America. Scenery, four interiors and two exteriors. Act- ing rights reserved- Plays a full evening. Price, 60 Cents. THP iftTHPD PFTTHW Comedy In Three Acts. ByM.B.HoBinB. IIIC UlUCn rCLrl^VYT six males, four females. Scenery, two interiors ; costumes, modem. Professional stage rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. Comedy in Four Acts. By C. H. Chambers. Four males, three fe- males. Scenery, an interior and an exterior; costiunes, modem. Acting rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 60 Cents. A WOMAN OF NO IMPORTANCE ^fl^l^fj^kt^l'^.^. seven females. Costumes, modem ; scenery, three interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Stage rights reserved. Offered for reading only. Price, 60 Cents. Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 5^altet "$. TBaSer & Company No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts TBE TYRANNY OF TEARS