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 MORE MONEY THAN 
 BRAINS 
 
 A COMEDY IN TWO ACTS 
 
 BY 
 
 Percival p. Hall 
 
 "TX 
 
 i'ym 
 
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MORE MONEY THAN 
 BRAINS 
 
 A COMEDY IN TWO ACTS 
 
 By 
 PERCIVAL P. HALL 
 
 Copyright, igig, by 
 Fitzgerald Publishing Corporation 
 
 FITZGERALD PUBLISHING CORPORATION 
 
 Successor to 
 DICK & FITZGERALD 
 
 18 Vesey Street New York 
 

 otP 27 !9I9 
 
 Ci-Ci.3 52i^S8 
 
 fr^ ' 
 
 -^^' 
 
 :^;5.^ 
 
More Money Than Brains 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 Pierre Arto 
 
 A struggling artist wJio lias succeeded better in get- 
 ting into debt tJian witli painting. 
 Harry Bright 
 
 Pierre's constant companion. Carefree and a born 
 scJiemer. 
 JiMMiE Maguire 
 
 TJie landlady's son. A typical street urcJiin. 
 Mrs. Maguire 
 
 A sJiarp, stubborn, Irisli boarding -liouse keeper. 
 
 Samuel Cohen A Seventh Avenue credit clotJiier. 
 
 Mr. Snyder , A German grocer. 
 
 Mr. John Styles 
 
 Pierre's uncle. A well-to-do, elderly man. 
 
 Mrs. John Styles Of a nervous, Jiysterical type. 
 
 Detective Slick 
 
 An officious official wJio woidd not turn Ms back on 
 Jionest graft. 
 
 Time. — Tlie present. Locality. — New York City. 
 Time of Playing. — About 50 minutes. 
 
 COSTUMES 
 
 Appropriate to characters portrayed. 
 
 INCIDENTAL PROPERTIES 
 
 Bed, table, cooking utensils, screen, skeleton and rack, 
 canvases, easel, pallette and brushes, check book and pen, 
 night shirt, imitation jewels, paper and pencil, stage 
 money, auto horn. 
 
 3 
 
4 More Money Than Brains 
 
 STAGE DIRECTIONS 
 
 As seen by a performer on the stage, facing the audi- 
 ence, R. means right hand; l., left hand; c, center of 
 stage; d.r., door right; up means toward back of stage; 
 DOWN toward footlights. 
 
More Money Than Brains 
 
 ACT I 
 
 SCENE. — Interior of a sparsely furnished studio. Door 
 R., window R., in rear flat. In front of window a 
 bedstead and between it and door a rack from wliicJi 
 a skeleton is suspended. TJiis is so placed, when 
 door is opened it is hidden f^^om view. Up l. a table 
 upon which are a small stove and cooking utensils, 
 hidden by a screen. Down l. an easel and artist's 
 stool. Down r. an armchair. DISCOVERED 
 Pierre deep in thought, seated on stool, elbows on 
 knees and holding letters between legs, A knock is 
 heard on the door. Pierre too deep in thought to 
 notice. A second and louder knock, but no response. 
 Finally, the dMor is slowly opened and Harry EN- 
 TERS. Harry tip-toes over to Pierre and slaps 
 Mm on the back, nearly knocking him off the stool. 
 
 Pierre (rising quickly, upsetting stool and rubbing 
 back). Holy smokes, Harry. Have a heart. Do you 
 want to break my back? 
 
 Harry. What the deuce is the matter with you? 
 You look and act as though you had lost your last 
 friend. 
 
 Pierre. Worse than that, Harry. 
 
 Harry. What's the trouble? Someone buy a pic- 
 ture? 
 
 Pierre. No, but my source of income has just been 
 cut off and I am going to be dispossessed in about one 
 
 5 
 
6 More Money Than Brains 
 
 hour. The tailor is going to take the very clothes off 
 my back and I guess the grocer and butcher will demand 
 an autopsy to secure last night's supper. 
 
 Harry. I see. The uncle won't stand it any longer, 
 eh? 
 
 Pierre. Eight. I just received this letter stating that 
 it was of no use to ask him to extend my time, that so 
 long as I was determined to stick to art, I must make 
 it provide my livelihood. Well, Harry, my dear boy, I 
 am going to make the uncle sit up and take notice yet. 
 
 Harry. That's a little better spirit, Pierre. Per- 
 haps we can make the old man come around before long. 
 
 Pierre. Before long will have to be pretty soon if it 
 is going to do me any good. Why, yesterday and every 
 day before that for the last two weeks I have been busy 
 all day long forcing a sweet smile and telling a long 
 sad story to the landlady and the different tradespeople 
 of how, if they como tomorrow, I will surely be able to 
 pay them with the money I expect from my uncle. To- 
 day I shall, no doubt, meet my Waterloo. I have put 
 them off and put them off until they won 't stand it any 
 longer. I'm expecting to see the landlady bounce in 
 any minute. 
 
 Harry. Why not lock your door and let her knock 
 until she tires of it. She will think you are out. 
 
 Pierre. Oh, no. You don't know Mrs. Maguire. She 
 knows every move I make and a whole lot I don't make. 
 I can't pass in or out of this house but that she knows 
 it, and when I turn the corner I am watched by the 
 grocer, at the next corner by the butcher, at the next 
 by the tailor, and so on until I am afraid to look around 
 for fear I would meet them all face to face. 
 
 Harry. That's promising. If I ever want you at a 
 minute's notice. I'll know just where to get you. (No- 
 ticing skeleton for first time) Hello. Who^s your 
 friend, Pierre? 
 
 Pierre. Oh, pardon me, Harry, for not introducing 
 you. (Business of introducing) Mr. Bright, I would 
 like you to meet Mr. Cohen, the builder and owner of 
 my wearing apparel. 
 
More Money Than Brains 7 
 
 Harry (bowing and shaking Jiands). Charmed, I am 
 sure. — But, I say, Pierre, tell me what have you ever 
 got this thing for? 
 
 Pierre. I'll tell you, Harry. I am working on a 
 picture, as you see (Pointing to canvas on easel) which, 
 when finished, will be known as "Death.." I expect 
 this to be my masterpiece, the outcome of a most strange 
 and weird dream. It was necessary for me to paint a 
 skeleton in one part, and while passing Shark's, the 
 pawn-broker's, last night, I saw this for sale and spent 
 my last cent to acquire it. 
 
 Harry. And now you are dead broke because of this 
 note from your uncle. 
 
 Pierre. Exactly, only more so because I have run 
 pretty heavily into debt, fully expecting that my uncle 
 would still play the part of the "Good Samaritan." If 
 he had only held off until I had completed this picture, 
 all would have been well. 
 
 Harry. Well, don't feel so bad about it. If you 
 have to submit to being put out of your home, you can 
 always find a welcome in my place. 
 
 Pierre (patting Harry on tJie hack). Thank you, 
 Harry. Perhaps some time I can repay you for all you 
 have done for me. You have gotten me out of so many 
 scrapes that I am beginning to feel as though you will 
 find a way out of this one. (Heavy footsteps are Jieard 
 outside and finally a loud knock on the door) 
 
 Pierre (excitedly). The landlady. Harry, it's all up. 
 
 Harry. Hide, quick. 
 
 Pierre. It's of no use. (Loud knocks on door) 
 
 Harry. Hide, I say, and let me handle her. f Pierre 
 retreats heliind screen. Harry pidls door open very 
 quickly and Jimmie Maguire falls almost into the middle 
 of the room) 
 
 Jimmie. For the love of Mike, why didn't you say 
 come in before you opened the door that way? You^ 
 didn't answer me knocks, so I was just peekin' to see 
 why. Me mudder saj^s she wants de rent. 
 
 Harry. I don't owe your mother anything, boy. 
 What are you talking about? 
 
8 More Money Than Brains 
 
 JiMMiE. Oh, gee ! I thought you was Mr. Arto. 
 Harry. So it's Mr. Arto you wish to see? 
 
 JiMMiE. Sure. Where is he? 
 
 Harry. Mr. Arto is out at present. 
 
 JiMMiE. He is not. You can't kid me. Believe me, 
 if me mudder don't get the ''cush" he sure will go out. 
 (Demonstrating witli a kick) 
 
 Harry. See here, young man, you're pretty imperti- 
 nent. I told you Mr. Arto was out. Now, how do you 
 know that he isn't? 
 
 JiMMiE. Me mudder saw him come in wid a bundle 
 last night, and I know he didn't go out since. 
 
 Harry. It is possible that Mr. Arto was called away 
 some time during the middle of the night. 
 
 JiMMiE. Nix on dat stuff. Me fadder is on dis beat 
 and he knows the only guy that left our house last night 
 was Mr. Wilson, downstairs. He works on the news- 
 paper. 
 
 Pierre (coming from heJiind tJie screen). It's no use, 
 as I told you, Harry. The Maguires know every move- 
 ment in this vicinity. 
 
 JiMMiE. Say, me mudder says she ain't going to wait 
 any more for your rent. What do you say about it, huh ? 
 
 Pierre. Now see here, Jimmie, you tell your mother 
 that 
 
 Jimmie. Nix, nix, no more delay stuff. If you don't 
 send the money down with me, me mudder 's coming 
 right up to put you out. (Poses witJi hand out to re- 
 ceive money. Harry slips liand of skeleton into Jim- 
 mie 's hand. Jimmie turns at this to face skeleton) 
 
 Harry. Meet Mr. Cohen, Jimmie. 
 
 Jimmie (jumping). Holy Smokes, there's murder 
 been done! [EXITS in great confusion 
 
 Harry. So long, Jimmie! 
 
 Pierre. Jinks, Harry, you and I better drop every- 
 thing and get out of this. That little imp is his mother's 
 pride and joy and in about two minutes the old lady 
 will be up here with the axe, ready to annihilate every- 
 thing. Come on, let's get. (Begins to gather a few 
 things) 
 
More Money Than Brains 9 
 
 Harry. There's no need of that, Pierre. Cohen 
 scared the imp, why won't it scare the imp's mother? 
 
 Pierre. Not for me. You may stick it out, but I am 
 a strong believer in safety first. Take my advice and 
 come. (Heavy footsteps and loud noises Jieard outside. 
 Pierre drops everyfhing and falls onto stool). Good 
 night ! 
 
 Harry. Brace up, Pierre. Where there is life, there 
 is hope. 
 
 Mrs. Maguire (off stage). The idea of searin' the 
 wits out of a poor innocent, harmless child. 
 
 Jimmie (off stage). Yeah, Mom. He put the hand 
 right in my hand. 
 
 Pierre. I told you so. We're in for it, all right. 
 
 Harry. Don't give in. Face it bravely. We'll crawl 
 out somehow. 
 
 Mrs. Maguire (off stage). Come on in, child. What 
 are you afraid of? Your mother's with you, me darlint 
 boy. (Loud shuffling of feet) 
 
 Jimmie. Nothin' doin'. You don't catch me going in 
 there. Nix, I'm going out. 
 
 Mrs. Maguire (off stage). Ah, the darlint child. He's 
 half the wits scared out of him. Well, we'll see 
 
 Pierre. Now I lay me down to sleep 
 
 Mrs. Maguire (bursting in door witJi duster raised 
 over Tier Jiead). See here, Mr. Arto, it ain 't bad enough 
 to be owing me ten weeks' rent, but you be after scarin' 
 me child to death. (All fhis time sJie is tJireatening 
 hotJi Harry and Pierre witJi tJie duster) I want an 
 explanation of this, and I want it quick. 
 
 Harry. Pray calm yourself, Mrs. Maguire, and I am 
 sure we can explain everything. 
 
 Mrs. Maguire (coming very close to Harry j. And 
 who are you that you 'd be after givin ' me advice ? Does 
 your advice collect my rent? Butt out. And now. Mr. 
 Arto, what are you going to be doin'? 
 
 Pierre. Now really, Mrs. Maguire, I told you 
 
 Mrs. Maguire. Yes, and you told me the same old 
 story for the last time. I'm determined, I am. Put up 
 or out you go. 
 
10 More Money Than Brains 
 
 Pierre. Now, Mrs. Maguire, can't you- 
 
 Mrs. Maguire. No, I can't, I won't, and what's more, 
 I don't want to. Them's my final terms and it's up to 
 you. 
 
 Pierre. Tomorrow, Mrs. Maguire, I am sure— — 
 
 Mrs. Maguire. Tomorrow be blowed! Do you think 
 I run a charity institution? (Poses) 
 
 Harry (coming up to Pierre J. Give her a check, 
 Pierre. 
 
 Pierre (aside). But there are no funds in the bank. 
 
 Harry. That doesn't matter. It will hold her off 
 for a little while, anyway. 
 
 Mrs. Maguire. Well, am I a fixture here ? 
 
 Pierre (quite relieved). Oh, yes, I had quite for- 
 gotten. You came after your rent, didn't you? 
 
 Mrs. Maguire (aside). Can ye beat that? Did you 
 think I came to take tea with you? 
 
 Pierre. I am very sorry, Mrs. Maguire, but I haven 't 
 quite enough cash in the house, so if 
 
 Mrs. Maguire. Shall I call me old man to put you 
 out? You remember me terms. 
 
 Pierre. I was just going to say, if you would accept 
 a check, I would pay you in full. 
 
 Mrs. Maguire. I don't know much about them things, 
 but I'll take a chance. 
 
 Pierre (writing). Twenty-five dollars, wasn't it? 
 
 Mrs. Maguire (sweetly). Yes, sir, Mr. Arto. 
 
 Pierre. There you are, Mrs. Maguire. 
 
 Mrs. Maguire. Thank you so much. The Lord bless 
 you. (As Mrs. Maguire turn^ to go out, sJie sees skele- 
 ton for first time. Screams) Good Fathers ! 
 
 [EXIT Jiurriedly. 
 
 Pierre. Phew ! 
 
 Harry. Say, she's a piece of the old sod, all right. 
 I expected every minute to have my head come in con- 
 tact with that duster. 
 
 Pierre. Wait till she finds there is no money in the 
 bank. Oh, me! oh, my! — you and I had better write 
 our farewell notes. (Footsteps outside) She's back. 
 (Starts quickly) 
 
More Money Than Brains ii 
 
 Harry. Impossible, Pierre. Your nerves are surely 
 on edge. 
 
 Pierre. Yours would be too if you were in this fix. 
 I not only am in debt, but now, by giving a worthless 
 check, I am liable to arrest. (Loud knock) I wonder 
 who that can be. Maybe it's the police. 
 
 Harry. Nonsense, boy. Shall I let them in? 
 
 Pierre. You might as well. I don't care what hap- 
 pens. (Harry opens tJie door and Cohen ENTERS) 
 
 Cohen (to Harry J. T'ank you. 
 
 Harry. Don't mention it. 
 
 Cohen. So, Mr. Arto, I can see you are enjoying the 
 best of health. 
 
 Pierre. Yes. 
 
 Cohen. Perhaps you can let me have a payment, 
 yes? 
 
 Pierre. I am sorry to say, no. 
 
 Cohen. No? Und why not? 
 
 Pierre. Well, you see^ the money I expected hasn't 
 arrived. 
 
 Cohen. Und you expect me to wait so much longer? 
 
 Pierre. Why, yes, surely. 
 
 Cohen. I cannot do it. Think of the loss. Twenty 
 dollars at four per cent, interest for six months ! Oi — 
 I can't do it. 
 
 Pierre. But I haven't the money and I can't pay 
 you just now. 
 
 Cohen. Can 't you give me something ? Say five dol- 
 lars? 
 
 Pierre. No, nothing. 
 
 Cohen. Say four. 
 
 Pierre. No, nothing. 
 
 Cohen. Say three. 
 
 Pierre. See here, Cohen, I have told you I can^t 
 pay. So good-day. 
 
 Cohen (excitedly). You want to cheat me ! You 
 want to rob me! If you can't pay me, I will have dose 
 clothes back again. (He snatclies Pierre's coat from 
 cliair and starts toward door, hut Pierre catclies one 
 end and Tiolds on) Let go! They belong to me! You 
 are trying to rob me! 
 
12 More Money Than Brains 
 
 Pierre. See here, Cohen! Let go of that coat! 
 
 Harry (interceding). For heaven's sake, Pierre, give 
 him a check and get rid of him, or you will surely have 
 the police in. 
 
 Pierre. Wait a second, Cohen. 
 
 Cohen. Vait a second? Haven't I vaited already 
 six months? I want the money or the clothes. 
 
 Pierre. I'll give you the money. 
 
 Cohen (relaxing). Veil, vy didn't you say so be- 
 fore? 
 
 Pierre (replacing coat on hack of chair). "What do 
 I owe you? 
 
 Cohen, Twenty-five dollars and six months' interest 
 at four per cent. 
 
 Pierre. Never mind the interest. I'll give you a 
 check for what I owe you. (Writes) 
 
 Cohen. But the interest 
 
 Pierre (sternly). Do you want the check? 
 
 Cohen. I only let you off 'cause I don't want to 
 lose the trade. 
 
 Pierre. Here, now don't bother me again. 
 
 Cohen. I am skinning myself, Mr. Arto. A thirty- 
 five dollar suit at twenty-five and lose six months' in- 
 terest 
 
 Pierre (sJioving Jiim out). Good-day and get out. 
 
 [EXIT Cohen 
 
 Harry. How often does that come in? 
 
 Pierre. Once each morning for the last six months. 
 When he finds there is no money to meet that check, 
 yours truly will create a new fashion for the coming 
 season. That of wearing a barrel. 
 
 Harry. From the way he yanked that coat, I guess 
 you're right. I was expecting every minute to see it 
 part and let him tumble clear out of the room and down 
 the stairs. 
 
 Pierre. I wish it had Well, Harry, I must do a 
 little work on this picture if I can control my nerves 
 enough to get started. (Paints) Do you want to read 
 or criticise? 
 
 Harry. I'd much rather criticise. (Examining pic- 
 
More Money Than Brains 13 
 
 ture) I don't think you show quite enough detail in 
 the interior of that vault, do you? 
 
 Pierre.. You boob! If you're going to criticise, do 
 it justly. How am I to show detail behind a closed 
 door? 
 
 Harry. "Well, you might paint the detail around here 
 on the back. (Pointing to position on hack of canvas 
 just beJiind door) 
 
 Pierre. Sit down and read. (Footsteps coming up 
 the stairs) 
 
 Harry. Another one of your friends, Pierre. Gosh, 
 but you are popular! 
 
 Pierre. I give up ! (Knock) Come in. 
 
 Mr. Snyder. Goot-morgin alretty. (Stands and looks 
 at Pierre tvitli liands in apron) I say, goot-morgin. 
 
 Pierre. Good-morning. (Pidling empty pockets in- 
 side out) 
 
 Mr. Snyder. Ach, der same ole story! Vhen vill 
 you pay me? 
 
 Pierre. I don 't know. I guess when I get the money. 
 
 Mr. Snyder (aside). Ach, by golly, I am dealin' wid 
 a swindler! (To PierreJ Well, young man, I vill not 
 leave dis room until I get dose moneys. Do you expect 
 me to feed j^ou for nuttings? (Aside) Ooh, by golly, 
 vot a brazen swindler ! 
 
 Pierre. Now, Mr. Snyder, what 's the .use of standing 
 there when I tell you I haven't got the money? 
 
 Mr. Snyder. Ach in Himmel, do you mean to rob 
 me? No, sir, here I stands und here I get dose moneys. 
 
 Harry. You're up against a stone wall there, Pierre. 
 The sooner you give him a check the better off you are. 
 
 Pierre. I guess you're right. He isn't at all beauti- 
 fying to the surroundings, is he? (To Snyder J Do 
 you want all cash? 
 
 Mr. Snyder. You bet I do ! Do you t'ink I vant pic- 
 tures ? 
 
 Pierre. I'll give you a check. 
 
 Mr. Snyder. Veil, dat vill do very nicely. 
 ^ Pierre (writes). Here you are. The full amount. 
 
 Mr, Snyder (aside). He ain't such a bummer after 
 
14 More Money Than Brains 
 
 all. I t'ank you a t'ousand times. Is there anything 
 you want dis morning? Some fine saurkrout, bologna, 
 or sumtdings like dot? 
 
 Pierre (to Harry J. I haven't got the heart, after 
 giving him a bum check. 
 
 Harry. It's up to you. 
 
 Pierre. No, I don't think so, Mr. Snyder. 
 
 Mr. Snyder. Perhaps tomorrow, yes? 
 
 Pierre. Yes, perhaps tomorrow. Good-day. 
 
 Mr. Snyder. Gooden Tog. [EXIT 
 
 Pierre. "Well, by ginks, I hope that's the last one I 
 owe any money to ! I suppose, though, the butcher and 
 the furniture man will be in, too. (All this time Harry 
 Jias been staring at tlie skeleton and seemingly deep in 
 tJiouglit) Say, Harry, I have had so much excitement 
 this morning that I have forgotten to feel hungry. I've 
 got just twenty-five cents left. I know where we can 
 get a pretty good lunch for two on that. Besides, it 
 would be a good thing if you and I were absent when 
 the mob returns — there's more room to run out in the 
 street. 
 
 Harry. Say, Pierre, I've got a scheme. 
 
 Pierre. I said eats. Come on — '' Drink and be merry, 
 for when we return we die. ' ' 
 
 Harry. This scheme will pull you out of debt, or I'll 
 eat my hat. 
 
 Pierre. You can think better on a full stomach. Ex- 
 plain it while we eat. 
 
 Harry. Are you in on this scheme? 
 
 Pierre. If it will clear me of my debts, I'm in on 
 anything. 
 
 Harry. Well, then, there is one thing to be done 
 before we go to lunch. Let me have paper and pencil. 
 (Pierre gets paper arid pencil. Harry writes) What 
 did you say your uncle's address is? 
 
 Pierre. 12 West 174th Street. 
 
 Harry (reading). Now listen to this. *'Mr. John 
 Styles. — Having had occasion to call on my old friend, 
 Pierre, this morning, I was greatly surprised to find 
 
More Money Than Brains 15 
 
 matters in a very serious state. I am sorry to say, I am 
 obliged to inform you of his deatli/' 
 
 Pierre. Dead ? 
 
 Harry. Sure. You 're dead broke, anyway. (Reads) 
 *'I would suggest that you come immediately, in order 
 that you may make arrangements. Sorrowfully yours, 
 Harry Bright." 
 
 Pierre. No, Harry, I can't agree to that. How am 
 I to come to life a^ain? 
 
 Harry. Leave that to me. Come now, you've agreed. 
 Call Jimmie to take this to your uncle. 
 
 Pierre. I don't like it, but I suppose it will work 
 out all right. (Calls at door) Hey, Jimmie! Oh, Jim- 
 mie! 
 
 Jimmie (off stage). What do yez want? 
 
 Pierre (calling). Do you want to earn a few pen- 
 nies ? I have an errand for you to do. 
 
 Jimmie (off). Pew pennies! What do yez take me 
 for, a kid? 
 
 Pierre. Come on up and I '11 tell you about it. 
 
 Jimmie. All right. 
 
 Harry. Offer him a half-dollar when he comes back. 
 
 Jimmie (off stage). I'm here. What is it? 
 
 Pierre. Come on in. I have a note I want delivered 
 to my uncle. 
 
 Jimmie. Not much! Chuck the note and the money 
 out here and maybe I'll take it. 
 
 Harry. I'll take it to him. [EXIT 
 
 Pierre. I wonder how it will all come out? 
 
 Harry (re-entering). I arranged with Jimmie to take 
 the note and collect his fifty cents when he returns. 
 Now for that feed you spoke of and I'll explain the 
 whole business to you. 
 
 Pierre. I don't like it, Harry, but I'm no quitter. 
 Come on. ' [EXEUNT 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
i6 More Money Than Brains 
 
 ACT II 
 
 SCENE. — Same as Act I. One "hour elapses. Harry 
 and Pierre ENTEE, talking. 
 
 Pierre. Well, Harry, that's the greatest IVe ever 
 heard. 
 
 Harry. And I have a feeling it's going to work like 
 a charm. (Looking at watch) Whew! We've been 
 gone an hour. Come on, we'U have to prepare for your 
 funeral or your aunt and uncle will walk in on us. 
 
 Pierre. What's first? 
 
 Harry. Have you a night-shirt? 
 
 Pierre. Yes, one that is more holy than righteous. 
 
 Harry. Good. That will be better than a new one. 
 Slip it on old Cohen. 
 
 Pierre, There you are. 
 
 Harry. Now, into bed with him. (Places skeleton, 
 covered witJi nigJit -shirt , in bed) That completes the 
 preparation. Now, all we have to do is to await the 
 mourners. But wait. We've got to find a suitable 
 hiding place for you. Let me see. 
 
 Pierre. Under the bed. 
 
 Harry. No, that won't do. If possible, we want a 
 place where you can see the fun. If you got under the 
 bed, there wouldn't be any room for your feet. 
 
 Pierre. I know a few others whose feet are quite 
 evident. How about behind this screen? I could peek 
 over. 
 
 Harry. That's a good place. Now, when you hear 
 anyone coming, dive behind there. (Outside is heard 
 an auto horn) 
 
 Pierre (at window). The mourners have arrived. 
 Uncle and auntie. 
 
 Harry. Gee, we just got back in time ! Quick, now, 
 get behind the screen and don't let yourself be seen. 
 (Pierre gets behind screen. Harry pulls sheet com- 
 pletely over skeleton. Loud tread on stairs, knock. 
 Harry opens door and enter Mr. and Mrs. John Styles, 
 
More Money Than Brains 17 
 
 dressed in deep mourning. Mrs. Styles is weeping 
 sadly) Good afternoon, sir. 
 
 Mr. Styles. I received your note. Now let me know 
 the particulars. (Mrs. Styles sohs very loudly) There, 
 there, my dear, do not carry on so. 
 
 Mrs. Styles. Poor Pierre 
 
 Harry. The particulars are these. I had not been 
 to see my friend in some time — oh, I guess about two 
 months. When this morning I chanced to drop in 
 
 Mr. Styles. Yes 
 
 Harry. I knocked several times, but received no an- 
 swer. Intending to leave a note, I pushed the door 
 and came in to find things just as you see them. 
 
 Mr. Styles. Yes. But how did you discover that 
 Pierre was dead? 
 
 Harry. Turning to leave the room, I noticed on the 
 bed my friend Pierre. Oh, I cannot tell you how I feel- 
 the loss of so true a friend! 
 
 Mrs. Styles. Oh, my poor Pierre! Do let me take 
 one last look at him. Oh, dear me 
 
 Mr. Styles. There, there, my dear! Don't carry on 
 that way. 
 
 Mrs. Styles. I will carry on that way. If you had 
 helped the boy when he asked you to, he probably would 
 have been with us today. Oh, John, how could you be 
 so cruel to poor Pierre? (Mrs. Styles starts toward 
 bed. Harry prevents her) 
 
 Harry. Really, Mrs. Styles, I wish you would collect 
 yourself before looking at Pierre for the last time. I 
 am afraid 
 
 Mrs. Styles. Let me see him. I must see him. Oh, 
 poor Pierre! 
 
 Mr. Styles. My dear, try and control your feel- 
 ings 
 
 ' Mrs. Styles. John Styles, how can you be so hard- 
 hearted? Have you no feeling? Oh, poor Pierre! I 
 must see him 
 
 Harry. I really cannot let you, Mrs. Styles, 
 Mrs. Styles. I will. Oh, oh, oh ! I will ! 
 Mr. Styles. Let her see Mm, Mr. Bright. 
 
i8 More Money Than Brains 
 
 ^ARRY. Very well. (Mrs. Styles draws sheet hack, 
 exposing skeleton. Faints on bed. Mr. Styles and 
 Harry rusJi to aid her) 
 
 Mr. Styles. Good heavens! How terrible! Quick, 
 some water, quick! (While Mr. Styles pats Mrs. Styles' 
 forehead with a handkerchief, Harry rushes ah out ex- 
 citedly for water, once cautioning Pierre to he quiet) 
 For pity sakes, man, get some water and don't do so 
 much running about ! 
 
 Harry (bringing vinegar from behind screen). I 
 can't find any water, but here's some vinegar. That's 
 very good. 
 
 Mr. Styles. Let me have it quick! (Applies) 
 
 Mrs. Styles (coming to). Oh, John, where are we? 
 
 Mr. Styles (heaving a sigh.). There, there, dear. 
 You're all right. 
 
 Mrs. Styles. Dear me, John, do be careful ! You '11 
 spill that on my dress. Oh, John, isn't it terrible? 
 (Sobs) Poor Pierre! {Fierre slips off of box on which 
 he has been standing to try and look over the screen) 
 What's that John? 
 
 Mr. Styles (to Harry J. Yes, what's that? 
 
 Harry (nervously). I heard nothing. 
 
 Mrs. Styles. Oh, John, why didn't you help the boy 
 when you could? 
 
 Mr. Styles. Now, I have told you time and — — 
 (Another tumble and noise) 
 
 Harry (aside). For the love of Pete! He'll spoil the 
 whole afPair. (Coughs loudly and moves in chair) 
 
 Mrs. Styles. There's that noise again. What is it? 
 
 Harry. A noise? I didn't hear any. 
 
 Mr. Styles. Well, then, you must be deaf. I heard 
 it very distinctly. 
 
 Harry. I am afraid that both of you have become too 
 much upset by this very sad affair. (Pierre succeeds 
 in peeping over the screen and is seen hy Mrs. Styles^ 
 
 Mrs. Styles (screams). John! (All start) 
 
 Mr. Styles. Heavens ! What has happened ? 
 
 Mrs. Styles. Oh, John, take me from this room! 
 It's haunted, I'm sure! 
 
More Money Than Brains 19 
 
 Mr. Styles. Come, come, my dear. Collect yourself. 
 
 Mrs. Styles. I just saw Pierre look over that screen 
 at me. 
 
 Harry (aside). It's all up! 
 
 Mr. Styles. Nonsense, my dear! Come, we must 
 leave before you are ill. 
 
 Harry (aside). How am I going to get him to settle 
 the bills before he goes? (Mr. Styles assists Mrs. 
 Styles to the door. Just as Mr. and Mrs. Styles are 
 about to leave, a terrible tramp of feet is heard outside 
 and shouts of ''We'll get him!'' "I ivant my m.oney!'' 
 ''The robber !'' etc. Then suddenly the door is thrown 
 open and Jimmie, Mrs. Maguire, Cohen ajid Snyder 
 rush in, all excitement, waving the bogus checks and 
 demanding payment in all sorts of threats. Mrs. Styles 
 retreats in horror. Mr. Styles tries to shout above the 
 noise) 
 
 ,Mr. Styles. Just a second. What's it all about? 
 People, there is a dead man in this room, so please be 
 quiet. (The creditors all glance toward the bed and in 
 unison exclaim, "Bead?" and then all with one thought 
 turn and start to realize the amount of their loss by 
 grabbing Pierre's possessions) 
 
 Mr. Styles. Don't touch a thing in this room, and 
 I will pay you all. (All drop their belongings and rusk 
 with tlieir bills toward Mr. Styles, each eager to be 
 paid first) One at a time, please. One at a time. You 
 will all be paid. Now, Mrs., what does your bill amount 
 to? (To Mrs. MaguireJ 
 
 Mrs. Maguire. Twenty-five dollars, sir. 
 
 Mr. Styles (producing roll). Here you are. Now, 
 what's yours? (To Cohen j 
 
 Mrs. Maguire. Thank you, sir. (Going toward bed 
 and raising apron to wipe eyes) Poor Mr. Arto! This 
 is enough to break me heart ! Sure, he was a fine young 
 man. 
 
 Mr. Cohen. Twenty-five dollars and eight months* 
 interest at four per cent. 
 
 Mr. Styles. Here's twenty-six. I guess that will 
 cover all. Now then, you're next. (To Snyder. Cohen 
 
20 More Money Than Brains 
 
 removes Tiat and stands next to Mrs. MaguireJ 
 
 Mr. Snyder. Ach in Himmel, it is about time. Ten 
 dollars und ocht-nnd-swansic cents. 
 
 Mr. Styles. There. Now, I wish all you people would 
 leave this room. 
 
 Mr. Snyder. Yas, sir. But first let me have just one 
 look. Mr. Arto was a fine young man. (As Snyder and 
 all move toward tlie bed to take a last look, Pierre, in 
 Ms endeavors to sJiake a tJireatening fist over tJie screen 
 at tliem, slips and falls with tJie screen into tJie room. 
 Everyone turns to see ivliat lias liappened. In unison, 
 Mrs. Styles sJirieks; Mrs. Maguire, ''Rascal!'' Cohen, 
 ''Faker!" Snyder, ''Acli in Himmel!'' Mr. Styles, 
 ''So!" Harry, " Good-niglit ! " Jimmie, "What the 
 hell!") 
 
 Mr. Styles. So, young man, this is your game! A 
 trick to play on the sympathies of your aunt and uncle ! 
 Look at your aunt — in a state of prostration because of 
 this shameful trick. You are no longer a nephew of 
 mine. My interest in you is at an end. Never again 
 call me uncle, nor appeal to me for aid, no matter how 
 distressing your situation may be. (ENTER Detective 
 ^* Slick," walking hurriedly to center of stage) 
 
 Slick. I am looking for a Mr. Arto. Does he live 
 here? 
 
 Mr. Styles. Are you another of his creditors? 
 
 Slick. I am Detective Slick of the Secret Service 
 and am looking for a Mr. Arto. 
 
 Mr. Styles. There he is, and I trust he will be well 
 punished for the injustice Avhich he has just done me. 
 
 Slick (advancing to Pierre, who is still seated on 
 floor). Are you Mr. Arto? 
 
 Pierre. Guilty. 
 
 Harry (to Mr. Styles J. Mr. Styles, Pierre has been 
 falsely accused. This whole affair was planned by me 
 and dared to be carried out by your nephew. 
 
 Mr. Styles. Have I not just denounced him as my 
 nephew ? Why do you insist that he is ? 
 
 Harry (to Slick J. Officer, if there is to be an arrest 
 made, I want to take my share. 
 
More Money Than Brains 21 
 
 Slick. Arrest? I have not come to make an arrest, 
 but to recover some stolen property. 
 
 Pierre (rising). Surely, you don't expect to find it 
 here? 
 
 Slick. Now don't get excited, young man. Just let 
 me ask a few questions. Do you remember buying any- 
 thing last night ? 
 
 Pierre. Why, no. Why? 
 
 Slick. Easy now. Just think again. Don't you re- 
 member buying anj'thing of a pawnbroker? 
 
 Pierre. Oh, yes. I bought a skeleton of Shark. 
 
 Slick. Well, I have been engaged by the wealthy 
 Mrs. Vanderdough to locate that skeleton. Three nights 
 ago thieves broke into her house and stole nearly every- 
 thing in sight, including this skeleton. 
 
 Pierre. Well, surely you don't connect me with that 
 story, 
 
 Mr. Styles. That wouldn't surprise me in the least. 
 
 Slick. Now don't interrupt and I will explain all in 
 time. Old Mr. Vanderdough had given his wife a great 
 many very fine gems and, expecting to be robbed some 
 time or other, she placed these jewels in the skull of 
 this skeleton, never thinking that a thief would look in 
 such a place. Rather clever, too, at that. However, this 
 skeleton was taken, and being found worthless by the 
 robbers, was pawned at Shark's, and from there I have 
 traced it to you. Have you still got it? 
 
 Pierre. Yes, here it is. 
 
 Slick. Excellent ! The jewels are all here. (Having 
 extracted tJiem from tlie skull. Exclamations of '*01i!^* 
 and ^^AJi!" from all) Young man, let me congratulate 
 you and give you this handsome reward for the return 
 of the jewels. A check for $1,000. 
 
 Pierre. Harry, don't wake me up! Thank you, of- 
 ficer. Uncle, if I may call you such, I am now in a 
 position to repay you for all the expense I have caused 
 you. Will you not accept this check and I will start 
 anew and show you that I can be somebody? 
 
 Mr. Styles. Pierre, your last remark has vindicated 
 you. If you will promise to give up art and take that 
 
22 More Money Than Brains 
 
 money and succeed in being someone, I will reinstate 
 you in my good graces. 
 
 Pierre. I promise. (Shake) 
 
 Slick. Well, I guess I had better return these jewels 
 to Mrs. Vanderdough. 
 
 Mr. Styles. Here, Officer, on your way over, have 
 a smoke. 
 
 Slick. Thank you, sir. Good-day. 
 
 All. Good-day. 
 
 Cohen (advancing with style-hook and samples). 
 Maybe, Mr. Arto, I can show you some of my latest 
 styles. 
 
 Pierre. No. You and Snyder may go. Mrs. Ma- 
 guire, I give you notice. I will have an expressman 
 call for my few things tomorrow. 
 
 Mrs. Maguire. Very well, sir. 
 
 [EXIT Mrs. Maguire, Jimmie, Cohen and Snyder 
 
 Pierre. Harry, Uncle John and Aunt Ellen, at my 
 invitation, I want you to supper with me and talk over 
 the plans for my future. 
 
 All. We would be delighted. [EXEUNT 
 
 Harry. Farewell, old Cohen. (Shaking hands with 
 skeleton) You had more money than brains. 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
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