Constantine Pueblo Jones Price, 35 Cents WALTER H- BAKERS- GO' BOSTON r Recent Plays That Have " Gone Over the Top ,? 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BAKER, 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass* ^ ■ tf V «[f W v^ vv v y ^ ^^v V V V V V V V -A Males Female Time Price Royalty 4 5 2 h'rs, 25C Free 12 4 I* " ■ 25C Special 6 3 2 « 2 5 C Free 8 3 2 " 25c " II 7 2 " 2 5 C u 6 3 2 " 25 c u 6 5 2 « 2 5 C << 6 5 2 « 2 5 C " 6 5 2 « 25 c $10.00 6 6 2 " 2 5 C Free 4 4 1# « 25C « 6 6 2 " 25c « IO 6 2 " 25c « 5 5 2 " 25c «« $ 2 ^ ■ »5C <• i 3 % " 25c M 4 3 2 ««■'." 25c £ " 25 c " 2 12 K " 25c « 6 6 2^ « 25c u- 6 5 2 «• 25c i« 7 5 2X » 25 c «< Constantine Pueblo Jones A Farcical Comedy in Three Acts By EDWIN DANIELS FOWLE NOTE This play may be performed by amateurs free of royalty and •without express permission. The professional stage-rights are, however, strictly reserved, and performance by professional actors, given in advertised places of amusement and for profit, is forbidden. Persons who may wish to produce this play publicly and professionally should apply to the author in care of the Publishers. BOSTON WALTER H. BAKER & CO. £920 VA 4%S Constantine Pueblo Jones CHARACTERS Tom Westhaver. Dick Westhaver. Harry Westhaver. Mr. Jones. Dodge, a famous detective. Whiskey, his colleague. Conny, only a tramp. William Hucksley, Jones butler. Walter Hucksley, his son. Doe, Jones' lawyer. Louise, Jones' niece. Mary ) 7 x . , Helen \^r friends. Mrs. Hucksley, propriettess of Sunny Lake hesumr.*nU SYNOPSIS ACT I. The "restaurant" in the railroad station at Sunny Lake, early in the morning. Act II. The drawing-room of Mr. Jones' mansion, a few hours later. Act III. The same as Act II, a few minutes later. Copyright, 1920, by Edwin Daniels Fowle Professional stage and moving picture rights reserved ©CLD 5 5288 m 161920 Constantine Pueblo Jones ACT I SCENE. — The "restaurant" of the railroad station at Sunny Lake. There are windows r. c. and l. c. at back. The one at r. c. is used for a show-window. Doors up r., up l., and down l. There are five dining tables, one down r., one down c, one down l., one up L. and one up r. Dining chairs on all sides of tables. Menus, sugar bowls, mustard pots, napkins, etc., in c. of tables. On the walls are advertising signs, train time schedides, a calendar, etc. It is early in the morning. (As scene opens, the doors up r. and down l. are closed and locked. The door up l. is closed. The windows are closed and the shades pulled down. A key is heard turning in the lock of the door up R. Enter Mrs. Hucksley, a rather large, fairly good-natured, middle-aged woman, wearing a bonnet and shawl, which she begins immediately to remove.) Mrs. H. (speaking through the door up R.). Come on in, Walter. I may need you. Casts her shawl and bonnet on c. table, goes to win- dows and raises shades and opens the window at L. c, opens the door up l., unlocks and opens the door down l. Takes shawl and bonnet and exits up L. In the meantime, enter Walter, up r., a boy of about eleven, carrying a sling -shot. He takes a shot through the door, comes to c. behind table, yawns and stretches. ) 3 4 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Walter. I don't see why we had to come so early, mother. Nobody comes here to breakfast. Mrs. H. (off l.). I know — but I've got a lot of cook- ing to do, (Walter sits in chair r. of table c, and thought fully plays with the elastic of his sling-shot. ) Walter. Mother ! Mrs. H. (off l., after a pause). Yes? Walter. When I grow up, can I be a detection? Mrs. H. (offh.). A what? Walter. A detection — like Shureluck Holmes. Mrs. H. (offu). I've told you a hundred times (pause while rattle of tins is heard off l.) that you can be any- thing you want — except an aviator. Walter (determinedly to himself). I'm goin' to be a detection. (Conny, a tramp, whose appearance ac- cords with his calling, appears at door down l. Looks cautiously into room and then cautiously enters. Seats himself at back of c. table. Walter does not perceive him. Conny suddenly bangs his fist on table. Walter jumps to his feet and looks at Conny. Points at Conny.) You're a tramp ! Conny. Good ! You are a detective. Walter (still pointing) . You need a shave ! Conny. Excellent ! Walter (pointing). You've lost a shoe ! Conny. Marvellous ! ! Walter. You need a bath ! Conny (slamming fist on table again). Stop! You're getting personal ! (Walter stares at him open mouthed.) Now, look here, you little scamp, I want some breakfast. (Walter still stares. Conny again slams table.) I said breakfast! (Walter starts.) Walter. W-will you p-pay for it? Conny. Oh, maybe — if it's a good one. Walter (starting to cross up l.). Mother! Conny. Oh, you'll have to get it yourself. Mother's gone down the track to empty the offal. (Walter stares at him again. Conny looks at him.) Say, hurry up! I CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 5' said you'd have to git it as your mother's gone out to empty the offal. Walter {dazed). Awful what? Con ny. What ignorance ! Awful garbage, of course. (A door slams off l. ) Walter. .She's back now. Conny. Well, I don't care. I want some breakfast ! (Slams table repeatedly with both fists.) Enter Mrs. Hucksley, up l., holding a pie. Mrs. H. A tramp! Here, you — stop banging your dirty fists on my clean table-cloth. Conny. Give me some breakfast, then. (Mrs. H. places pie on table up l.) Mrs. H. Give you some breakfast ! Oh, yes. (Conny sits on edge of chair and rubs hands all over table-cloth. Mrs. H. crosses to c. and yanks the chair out from under him. He falls to floor but gets up quickly and backs toward door l.) Conny. All right. All right. Turn me out, would ya ? Ya would, would ya ? Turn me out, would ya ? You wait! I'm goin' to hang around this joint and ya may see me again ! (Makes a sudden dive up stage and procures pie. Then walks jauntily down l., bows low, and starts to exit. Walter shoots sling-shot at him. A loud whack is heard and Conny raises hand to his neck, dropping the pie. Turns and starts to pick up pie. Walter has reloaded sling-shot and again fires. Conny yells, wrings hand, takes a look at Walter who is reload- ing shot, and runs. Walter goes to door and looks after him. Mrs. H. picks up pie. They both look after Conny.) 6 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Enter William Hucksley, the Jones' butler, up r. He is a very serious and pompous man. He carries a newspaper. Walter (seeing him). 'Lo, Pop. [Exits down l. Mrs. H. (turning and raising hands in astonishment). William ! (Places pie on table down l. and turns toward him. Stops short.) Don't you like your job, or are you ? ( Pauses. ) William (glaring at her) . Am I what? Mrs. H. Er — er — advanced? William (adjusting chair at r. of c. table to suit him). No. Mrs. H. H-have you retired ? William (placing newspaper on table and seating him- self). No. Mrs. H. H-have you given up your job? William. No — I haven't given up my position. Mrs. H. Th-then you've lost your job — er — posi- tion? William. " Lost " my position ! I — " lost " my posi- tion ! Are you crazy ? Why do you ask so many crazy questions ? Mrs. H. (relieved). But why are you here so early for? William. Oh, that's what's troubling you. Chauffeur's sick — I had to take his place. Fine job for a butler. (Takes up paper and unfolds it preparatory to reading.) Mrs. H. What did Mr. Jones want to come to town so early for? WilliaIm (who wants to read). He didn't. Mrs. H. Well, who did? William. Louise, his ward. I wish you'd shut up. Mrs. H. Oh — Louise? P'raps she'll drop in and see me before she goes back. She and me are great friends. But why did she want to come so early? William (hitting his paper furiously). Because she wants to get her friends, Mary and Helen, and take 'em home so they can see Mr. Jones' son Constantine when CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES J he comes home to-day at what time no one knows. (Gasps.) There, now are you happy? Mrs. H. "J 01168 ' son? " — I didn't know Mr. Jones had a son. William. If you'd V read the papers for the last three weeks you might know somethin'. Mrs. H. Do the papers say he has a son ? William. Of course they do. What else could my perfectly elusive words imply? Your stupidity is posi- tively appealin\ Mrs. H. (running to him and snatching the paper). You let me see that paper. Now where's my spectacles ? William. There — see what ya get for bein' so im- perlite. If yer'd let me have the paper I'd have read it to ya. Mrs. H. (returning paper). Read it, then. William (looking it over to find place). Hereafter follow my example and act like a lady. Here it is on the front page with a big heading. (Reads.) "Mr. Jones Will Greet Runaway Son " Mrs. H. " Runaway son ! " William. Yes. (Reads.) "Mr. Jones Will Greet Runaway Son To-morrow " — that means to-day. Mrs. H. Then why does it say " to-morrow " ? William. Because it was written yesterday, y'idiot ! Mrs. H. (sitting l. of c. table). All right — go ahead. William (reading). "Sunny Lake, June 29. Mr. Robert Jones is expecting the return of his son, Con- stantine Pueblo Jones, to-morrow — providing Constantine is alive. Mr. Jones has heard nothing of his son since he ran away about twenty years ago. Lately, he has been advertising for him in the newspapers all over the coun- try. His advertisement has read as follows : * To my son, Constantine Pueblo Jones, dear sir, come home and re- ceive the forgiveness of your poor old father, (William pauses to wipe his eyes) who still is fond of you in spite of your heartless desertion, twenty years ago, (William again wipes his eyes) when you ran away with scarcely a " farewell." (William closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. ) I will gladly receive you with open arms on the thirtieth of June. If I like you, you will not be required 8 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES to work and I promise you a weekly allowance of one hundred dollars. Your father, Robert Jones/ " That's all Mrs. H. Oh, ain't that wonderful? Then his son, Constantine, will come here to-day and I may see him ! William. If / don't like him, I'll give up my position. Mrs. H. I don't see how Mr. Jones can be so sure he's goin' to like him. For all he knows his son may be a thief, a gambler, or a tramp. By the way, there was a tramp here this morning ! Do you suppose that he could be Jones' son ? William {looks at her disgustedly). Idiot! {Continues to read his paper.) Enter Louise, r., a handsome girl of about twenty. Louise. We are ready to go back now, William. William {rising). Yes, miss. (Louise crosses to c. and William, after throwing paper on table down r., exits r. Mrs. H. rises.) Louise. Hello, Mrs. Hucksley. How are you? Mrs. H. Hello, Louise! {They embrace.) You're quite a stranger. When are you coming for some more cooking lessons ? Louise. I've intended to come for a long time but lately I've been helping uncle get ready to welcome his son. Mrs. H. Can't you stop a minute now, — I'm making some mince pies. Louise. Well — {casts a hesitating glance toward R. door) — I'll look at them a minute. Mrs. H. Come on, then. (Mrs. H. leads the way to the door tip l. Enter Mary and Helen r., much agitated.) Helen. Louise! Louise! Come here quick ! There's a strange man coming up the street — and acting queer ! Mary. / think he's crazy. Louise {running tozvard them). Goodness! Where's William? CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 9 Mary (almost crying). I sent him down to the drug store for a t-tooth-brush. Louise. Where 's the crazy man ? (They crowd to the door and look down the street. Mrs. H. approaches them.) Helen (pointing). There he is. Mrs. H. But what did you want a tooth-brush for ? — to brush him away ? Mary. No — to brush his teeth — I mean my teeth. Mrs. H. Oh, I see. Your hand was shakin' and you thought you could do a good job. Helen (rather hurt, to Mrs. H.). We noticed the crazy man after we had sent William. Louise. Look ! he's coming this way ! Helen. Oh dear ! What shall we do ? Louise (to Mrs. H.). Can't we hide somewhere? Mrs. H. Yes, let's go into the kitchen. Louise. Just the place! Let's hurry! He's coming fast. (They cross, screaming, up l.) Mary. Wait! Do you suppose it's Mr. Jones' son? Louise. Of course not! (Pushes the others ahead of her. They all exit up l., closing door after them. Enter Dodge, a sour faced, serious man, with a drooping mustache, tip r. Flings himself beside door in a crouching posture and gases intently, through doorway. Enter Walter down l., whistling. Sees Dodge and stops short. Dodge is too busily occupied to notice him. Walter comes to back of chair l. of c. table, on tiptoe. Dodge rises to his feet and Walter stops. Dodge again crouches and crosses backzvard in a crouching posi- tion to c. in front of table, always looking toward r. door. Walter places one hand on his hip and scratches his head with the other. Then he climbs on top of table and peers down at Dodge. Dodge backs to front of table down l., all the time peering under c. table toward r. door. Then turns around and gases out l. door. Walter rises to his knees 10 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES on table and again scratches his head, perplexed. Then gets down and climbs on table down l. Again peers over at Dodge. Dodge moves nearer door. Walter climbs down r. of table. Dodge rises and begins to back toward him. Walter retreats toward c. Dodge turns back to audience and goes up stage looking about him. Walter follows him. Dodge crosses to r., Walter to c. Dodge comes down stage between r. and c. tables. ) Dodge {conclusively). I am alone. Walter. You're a liar. (Dodge starts and looks at Walter, then draws him- self up proudly. ) Dodge. Sir, I am a detective. Walter {incredidoitsly) . You're a detective! Dodge. Who told you that ? Walter. You did. Dodge. / did ? You're a liar ! Walter {imitating Dodge). Sir, I am a detective. Dodge. You're a detective ! Walter. Certainly. Why not ? {Comes down l. of c. table.) Dodge {looking him over). Are you in disguise? Walter. No — of course not. Dodge. Where's your badge ? Walter. Where's yours? Dodge {producing badge). Here's mine. Walter. Oh, then you're a real detective ? Dodge. Certainly. Did you think I was a paper doll — or a movie actor? Walter. Hurrah! {Jumps at Dodge and flings his arms about his neck.) Who are you after? Dodge. Well, I'll tell you,— By the way, what's your name? Walter {seating himself on c. table). Walter Hucks- ley. Dodge (r. of table, one foot on seat of chair). Well, CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES II Walter, I'm on the trail of three men — three very suspi- cious men — and three men who care nothing for human life. Walter. Aw, come oft. That makes nine men. Dodge. Three men who would not hesitate to hang me on the first telephone pole they came across. Walter. Twelve men. Dodge. Three men whose mad career of crime no one has thus far been able to stop. Walter. Fifteen. Say, ain't you got anybody to help you? Dodge. Yes, I have one colleague but I need your help too. Now, tell me — have you seen those three men ? Walter. Which three? No, I haven't seen any three. Dodge. I presume you work here. Walter. My mother runs the place. Dodge. Is she here now ? Walter. She's prob'bly in the kitchen. Dodge. Good. Now listen, Walter. I want you to go and ask your mother if she's seen the three criminals. Don't bother to mention me. Just pretend you want to know. Will you do it ? Walter, Yes. Dodge. Good. Perhaps you'll be a detective some day. Walter. Honest? Do you think so? Oh, boy! (Dodge retires to extreme r. of stage. Walter attempts to open door up l. but is unable. His efforts arouse muffiled screams from within.) That's funny. It sticks. {Retires some distance and then runs at door. Loud screams from within.) Helen (from other side of door). Quick! Get the table ! The lock won't hold much longer ! (Walter is petrified with astonishment but soon be- gins to beat on the door.) Walter (calling). Mamma! Mamma! Mrs. H. (from other side of door). Heavens! It's 12 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Walter. Walter! (Walter stops beating.) Is that crazy man out there? Walter. Ain't any crazy man out here. (Noise of furniture being moved. Mrs. H., followed by girls, enters cautiously up l. Dodge ducks be- hind table down r.) Mrs. H. (embracing Walter). You poor boy, did you think your mother didn't love you any more? Walter. I thought you'd gone daily. Helen. Well, let's get William and drive up to Louise's, so we shan't miss seeing all the fake sons when they arrive. Mrs. H. " Fake sons ! " Why, what do you mean ? Helen. Oh, the real son isn't going to be the only applicant for that one hundred dollars a week, you may believe me ! (The girls cross to c, Mary leading.) Walter. Wait a minute. Have any of you seen three crimes around here? Mary, Three what? Walter. Three crimes. Louise. Do you mean criminals? Walter. I guess so. Mrs. H. Heavens, no. Why? Walter (to girls). Have you? Louise. { No Helen, j Mary. I saw three men cross the field in back of our house this morning. And, oh girls — guess whom they looked like. & } When? Mary. The Westhaver boys. Louise (joyously). Oh! Helen. Really ? Mary. Yes, really. Mrs. H. Who are the Westhaver boys ? CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES I£ Louise. They're three awfully nice fellows that we met in New York. Mrs. H. " New York, New York." That's all I hear when you girls are about. Helen. Oh, you'd love them if you only knew them. Dodge (rising to his feet and approaching them). Pardon me, ladies, but I Mary. It's the wild man ! (Helen screams and all start to run.) Walter (at top of his lungs). He ain't wild. He's only a detective. (They stop but are still nervous.) Mrs. H. "A detective "—that's about as bad. Dodge. I am sorry to cause such a commotion — but may I ask this young lady (indicating Mary) for a de- scription of the three men she saw cross the field? Mary. Well — (pause) they seemed fashionably dressed. Helen (to Louise). Just like the boys would have been. Mary. And that's about all I can say. Dodge. Thank you. I believe I am on their track. (To Mrs. H.) Madam, this is the only lunch room about here, is it not? Mrs. H. It's the only one for ten miles around. Dodge. Good. Then they'll be sure to come here for breakfast. Mrs. Hucksley, you need a chef, don't you? Mrs. H. Need a chef ! Dodge. Well, I'm your man. Mrs. H. But I Dodge. But instead of your paying the chef, the chef will pay you. (Hands her some bills.) I think you also need a waiter. Now, when my colleague comes, he will be delighted to oblige you. (Hands her another bill and bows.) I thank you. Mary. Oh, have you got a colleague? Dodge. Yes, miss. If you had looked where those men crossed the field about five minutes afterward, you would have seen him close on their track. He's a smart fellow and has a bright future before him. We call him Whiskey. 14 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Helen (distaste fully) . Whiskey! Oh! why do you call him Whiskey? Dodge. Only on account of his whiskers. Louise. Well, girls, we must be going. Good-bye, Mrs. Hucksley. I'll come (Starts to embrace Mrs. H. but is halted by the sound of a well-remembered voice.) Tom (off r.). Hurrah, fellows! Here's a restaurant. Helen. That's Tom Westhaver! Dodge. Aha ! (Hides behind table down L. The girls up l. c. turn toward l., hiding their faces. Mrs. H. stands l. of them, peering curiously around them at door R. Walter is behind her.) Enter Tom, a bright, active, nice appearing young fellow, followed by Dick and Harry, who are a little older and therefore more balanced. Tom (bowing to brothers and showing way to C. table with mock gallantry). This way, gentlemen. (They sit down at c. table; Tom back; Harry r. ; Dick l.) Boys (throwing their heads back and opening their mouths wide as they speak). B-r-e-a-k-f-a-s-t ! Mrs. H. (aside to girls). Mercy! Are those the " boys " ? (Girls nod emphatically and place fingers on lips.) Boys (as before). B-r-e-a-k-f-a-s-t! Harry (staring at girls). Great Scott, boys! t\ ick \ (looking at Harry). What's the matter? Harry (still staring) . This must be Sunny Lake ! Tom. Dick. Tom. Why? Dick. } Sunny Lake! CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 15 Harry (pointing). Because To*. J Because _ ? Harry. Because — there — (Tom and Dick lean over table toward him) — are the girls! (Tom and Dick jump to their feet and turn toward the girls. The girls turn toward them.) Louise. Tom ! Tom. Louise ! Dick. Mary ! Mary. Dick ! Harry (who has now risen). Helen! Helen. Harry ! (Louise runs to Tom at c. Helen runs to Harry at r. Mary runs to Dick at l. They all shake hands cordially. ) Louise. Oh, but I'm glad to see you, Tom. Harry. Say, you're looking great, Helen. Mary. Well, how's New York, Dick? Tom. It's a long time since we've seen you girls. Helen. You're looking well too, Harry. Dick. New York's all right. How's Sunny Lake? Louise. We've been waiting for you boys to come for a long time. But we never lost hope, since you had promised us. Are you on your vacation? Tom. Why, er — yes — in a way. But the fact is — er — the fact is — we haven't come here especially to see you — (Louise is surprised) it's rather an accident — our be- ing here. We Helen (regretfully). Is that true, Harry? Harry. I'm afraid it is. Of course, we're awfully glad it happened but — but Dick, But we can't stay now. We'll come again some day. (The girls draw back, looking at the boys somewhat hurt. ) l6 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Tom. We're awfully sorry but we're — busily engaged on — er Harry. Yes — we're busily engaged on (Pause.) Dick. On busy business. Louise (almost haughtily). I thought you were on your vacation. Tom. And so we are— only Harry. Only we aren't, exactly. Dick. The fact is, we're on kind of a shopping tour. Helen. Shopping! in Sunny Lake! It hasn't even got a Woolworth's. Tom. No, that's not exactly what we're doing. We're trying to settle a strike — a big moonshiner's strike, all over the country. (The girls are astonished.) Harry. He's not quite right. We're really trying to find a nice little farm somewhere in the country where we can raise — pickles. Enter Whiskey, r., a businesslike detective with pro- digiously large, sandy whiskers. He stands R., raises clenched hand, and then opens it suddenly. Whis. Psst ! Dodge (raising hand above table and imitating the signal). Psst! (The girls see both signals.) Walter (pointing excitedly at Whiskey). That's Whiskey — I bet a cent. Louise (to Mary and Helen). It's the detective. We had better go, girls. (To the boys.) I am afraid we can quite understand your hurry to depart. Helen. I am afraid we can. Louise. Please do not remain a -moment on our ac- count. Come, Mary, we will go. (Helen and Louise start up r. Mary starts to follow and then stops.) Mary (beginning to cry). But — but you may be mis- taken. Dick couldn't do anything wrong. Louise (taking her hand and leading her away). If CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 1 7 we are wrong there will be time to apologize later. I am afraid we are right. (Helen and Louise exit up r., forcing Mary on be- tween them, Mary sobbing.) Boys (fiercely to Whis.). Who are you? Dodge (rising). He's a waiter. Boys (turning toward Dodge). Who are you? Dodge. I'm the chef. (The boys look at Dodge so fiercely that he backs nervously into the kitchen. Tom then turns his gaze back to Whis. Dick and Harry remain looking after Dodge. Whis. is perfectly composed.) Tom (at length). Well, let's sit down. (The boys sit down as before.) Dick. This is a devil of a mess. Harry. I should say so. Not only are we going to lose our big bet but we've already lost the three best girls in the world. (Mrs. H. is for some time uncertain what to do with herself but finally exits into kitchen. Walter crosses to r. and sits on table up r., watching the proceedings.) Tom. No, fellows, the girls aren't lost. They'll come back when they understand things. What we've got to worry about now is that bet. Harry. We needn't worry any more. We've lost it. Dick. At least we've only got about five hours to win it in. (Whis. has taken a napkin from table down r. and now marches around to l. of c. table.) Harry. Yes, and how in blazes ? Whis. What can we serve you, gentlemen? Harry. Nothing! Get out! As I was saying, how in blazes ? 1 8 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Whis. Pardon me! but this is a restaurant — not a foundry. Harry. Oh, fish) Wins, {top of voice). Fish for one! Dodge ( off l. ) Fish for one ! Harry. Here! I didn't order that! If Fve got to have something, I'll have Shredded Wheat. Whis. {loudly again). One bale. Cancel the fish. Dodge {off l.). One bale. Can't sell the fish. (Dick turns and looks Whis. up and down with dis- approval. ) Whis. What will you have, sir ? Dick. I'll have a couple of eggs on toast. Whis. {still loudly). Two ver-ry young chickens on a raft. Dodge {off l.). Two ver-ry young chickens on a raft. (Whis. looks at Tom.) Tom. I'll just have some coffee and doughnuts. Whis. {as before). Coffee and some dough. Dodge {off l.). Cough in some dough. {The brothers look at each other, disgustedly.) Dick. I don't think much of this place. Harry. Neither do I. {To Whis.) Waiter, would you mind moving a little farther away? (Whis. makes grimace but does as he is told.) Tom. Well, fellows, something's got to be done in the next five hours. Harry. Oh, let's forget it. We can never get a sixty dollar a week job in this hole. Dick. You're probably right, Harry, but I don't be- lieve in giving up until we have to. Can't you suggest something? Harry. No thanks ! Don't forget what happened the last time I suggested something. Dick. Yes, but that was an absurd thing for us to . CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 1$ try. Just because Tom looked like the bank cashier was no reason for us to try and substitute him. Ha! ha! That was funny. Tom. It came near not being so blamed funny for me. Dick. Say, we sure raised a rumpus in that town. Ha! ha! Harry. You're having an awfully good time, aren't you? I suppose you've forgotten that we nearly got pinched ! Tom. / wouldn't be surprised to hear that we had a couple of detectives on our trail right now. (Whis., who has gradually approached the table again, covers up an explosion with a cough.) Harry (half rising). Say, will you keep away from here? Whis. Yes, sir. (Moves farther off.) Dick. Well then, Tom, can't you suggest something? Tom. Why, yes — I have a suggestion. Dick. Good ! Harry. What is it? Tom. Simply this. I've just been thinking. Every- thing we've tried so far we've all tried together and It's always just one of us that's queered it. Isn't that right ? (Boys nod.) First it was I; then Harry; and then you, Dick. Well — I think perhaps we ought now — that it's so late in the game — to each try it for himself. Surely one of us ought to land a job — anyway. Harry. In five hours? I guess not. Nobody'll land one. Tom. At any rate, with three working separately, more ground will be covered. Dick. I suppose we ought to try everything. Harry. But there's one trouble. Doesn't the bet read that we've got to get the jobs in the same place? Tom. I don't think so. Let's see. ( Takes paper from pocketbook.) Listen — I'll read you the whole business. (Reads while Dick and Harry look at their own con- tracts.) " Stanley Walsh agrees to release Thomas West- haver from his next year's contract to act in his, Stanley 20 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Walsh's, theatrical company if Thomas Westhaver can procure a situation for himself which will net him at least sixty dollars per week, and shall obtain this situation before noon of June 30 of this year. In event of Thomas Westhaver' s failing to obtain the above mentioned sit- uation in the allotted time, Thomas Westhaver agrees to sign a three years' contract with the Stanley Walsh the- atrical company. Signed, Stanley Walsh and Thomas Westhaver." Dick. And ours read just the same. (They return their contracts to their pockets.) Tom. There's nothing about us all getting a job in the same place. Dick. No, not a thing. (Whis. exits up l.) Harry. Do you know, the more I think over that fool bet, the more foolish it seems. Dick. Oh, I don't know. We were all heartily sick of the stage and were willing to try anything to be re- leased from next year's contract. There's some excuse for us. Harry (sarcastically) . Yes — and now we're in for a three years' contract. I tell you, we were three mighty conceited young fools to think that we could get a sixty dollar a week job in less than two months. Enter Whis. up L. with shredded wheat and eggs on toast. Dick. Oh, I don't know as we were. We thought we knew just where to go. (Whis. crosses to back of Harry's chair and places the shredded wheat on table, remaining between Harry and Tom, listening, with head thrust intently forward. ) Harry. And we went there and got stung. Dick. Yes. (Throws his folded napkin into Whiskey's face. Whis. comes to life and brings the eggs around to Dick, setting them on the table. Listens again.) Well, we've worked hard enough since. Harry. Yes. (Throws napkin into Whiskey's CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 21 face.) But the trouble is — some of our dealings haven't been entirely above board. (Whis. exits up l.) Dick. I know. But we intend to fix up everything after we win our bet, so a few little transgressions like ours won't do any harm. Tom (who has been meditating for some time). Well, fellows, shall we adopt my suggestion ? Enter Whis. with coffee and doughnuts. Harry. I'd just as soon, although I think it's too late. You ought to have thought of it before. Dick. Tom's ideas generally pan out pretty well, so let's try it. (Whis. is just setting the coffee down on the table.) Tom (taking cup). Well, boys, from now on, every man for himself. (Raises cup.) And if only one of us is lucky, let the best man win. And if only two of us are lucky, let the worst man lose — that's I. And if none of us are lucky, let's resign ourselves cheerfully to three more years of misery. (Drinks. Dick and Harry ap- plaud. Whis. has deposited the doughnuts and now stands some distance behind Dick. Tom rises.) I can't eat anything — I'm too excited. Dick (beginning industriously to cut his toast). That's funny. (Tom moves r. with hands in pockets. Stands behind table dozvn r. looking thoughtfully at its surface. Dick and Harry begin to eat. Tom picks up news- paper and reads the headlines. His eyes finally become settled on one place.) Tom. Hello! Here's an article about Sunny Lake. Harry (between mouthfuls). Read it. It may have something about the girls. Tom (slowly, as he reads to himself). No — I guess not. — It's only about a — a (Continues to read.) Harry (pausing). A what? Tom. Nothing. It's a mistake. (Still reading.) Harry. What's a mistake ? 22 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Tom (surprised at something he has read and speaking in a tone which sounds like an answer to Harry's ques- tion). Jingoes! Harry (turns suddenly and looks at him). What? Tom (looking absent-mindedly at Harry). I don't be- lieve the real son will show up. Harry (perfectly serious). Don't you? How about the moon ? (Tom crosses back of table to Whis. at l. and moves him a little farther from table.) Tom. Waiter, are you a native of this town? Whis. Yes, I am. Er — why no, I'm not. On second thoughts, though, I am. Tom. Good. Then I suppose you know Mr. Jones? Whis. (shaking head). No. Mr. Jones? Why, yes, of course. Tom. Intimately? Whis. Yes, certainly; everybody knows Jones — but me. Tom. Well, then, tell me his hobby. What does he like? What kind of people does he like? Whis. (looking uneasily at floor and then at ceiling). "His hobby?" Er — his hobby — he's very fond of — poetry. Tom. Really? Oh, thunder! Hasn't he any other hobby ? Whis. (gaining confidence). No, not one. He's very, . very fond of poetry — eats on it, sleeps on it, walks on it, writes it himself and entertains poets. Nothing Tom (despairingly). But I'm no poet. Whis. In that case, my dear sir, you must never ex- pect to become a friend of Mr. Jones. Tom. Then, by Jingoes, I'm a poet ! Whis. Is that so? Have you got a poetic license? Tom. Of course. Whis. Pooh ! then you're no poet. Anybody can write poetry with a poetic license. Tom (gaily). Hurrah, fellows! See you both later. I'm a poet ! CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 23 (Throws paper on table down r. and exits up r.) Harry. Poor fellow, he's gone crazy. I wonder where he feels the worst. Dick. / wonder what he read in that paper. (Rises, gets paper and returns to table and sits again. His eyes rest immediately on the article and he be- gins to read.) Harry. Well, what did he read ? Dick. I don't know what he read, but (Finishes article. ) Harry. But what ? (Dick rises and approaches Whis. Harry seizes pa- per and begins furiously to look it over.) Dick (to Whis.). Say, do you live in this town? Whis. Yep. (Takes chair from l. table and places it facing Dick. Sits down. Crosses legs.) What do you want? Dick (placing foot on rung of Whiskey's chair and leaning toward him, casting a nervous glance at Harry). Do you know Jones ? Whis. (nodding). Yes-sir-ee. Great friend of mine — Jones. Dick. What sort of people is he fond of? Has he any hobby ? Whis. S'funny thing — but he's very, very fond of — er — Frenchmen. Talks with 'em whenever he can and always invites 'em to his house — strangers or not. And he can't speak a word of the language himself. He Dick (disgustedly, removing foot from rung). That's what I get for not taking up French when I had the chance. Never mind — I'll try it anyway. I don't need to talk French. I'll keep my mouth shut. (Crosses up R.) So long, Harry. Poolay voo fond-say? Harry. Sure. Do you like billiards? (Dick exits r. Harry finds the article, begins to read it and rises slowly at same time. Whis. watches his movements and rises simultaneously.) 24 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Whis. Don't bother to come to me. I'll come to you. {Motions to Harry to sit down. Harry does so ques- tioningly. ) Harry. I don't know what they saw, but Whis. Yes, I live here and I know Jones. He has only one hobby and that is — er — to read wild west stories. He's very fond of cowboys — always entertaining them. Loves firearms. I suppose you're a cowboy? Harry. Yes ! Whis. I knew it. There's a novelty shop around the corner. Perhaps you can get rigged up. Harry (rising, rather dazed). Thanks. (Shakes Whiskey's hand. Then goes to door up r. and stops. Slaps the top of his head.) I'm a cowboy. [Exits. Whis. Dodge ! Enter Dodge up l. Walter comes down R. Whis. lifts Walter to sitting posture on c. table. Whis. stands r. of Walter ; Dodge l. Dodge. What's the matter? (Whis. motions him to be silent.) Whis. Now listen, Walter, do you know where Mr. Jones lives ? Walter. Sure. I have to carry the washing there every Tuesday. Whis. Good! Now listen. (Begins to whisper to Walter. Dodge brings his head nearer to hear. Gradually Walter's mouth and eyes open wide.) Walter. Oh, boy! (Whis. continues to whisper.) CURTAIN ACT II SCENE. — The drawing room of Mr. Jones' mansion. Doors r. and down l. French zvindow up l. c. Fire- place c. back. Portieres at doors and draperies at windozv. Table l. c. Sofa r. c. Desk at r. back. Chair in front of it. Chairs both sides of table. Chair extreme R. Mantlepiece above fireplace contains, among other things, a number of small ornaments which may be slipped into a man's pocket. Enter Jones, a bright, lively, little, old man with eccentric white hair and a very red face. His clothes are a trifle old-fashioned but neat and well made. He enters at r. At the same time William enters l., cautiously; sees Jones and straightens up. Jones (r. c, sharply). William! where have you been? I missed you. William (l. c, embarrassed). Er — Miss Louise Jones. Oho ! So Miss Louise hasn't been behaving herself, either. Where did she send you? William. The chauffeur was sick and I had to drive the car. We went to town. Jones {shaking cane at William). William, from whom are you supposed to take your orders ? William. From you and M Jones. There's no "and" about it. Whom does Louise take her orders from? William {shaking head) . / don't know. Jones. You old rascal! Of course you do! She takes them from me ! William. Does she? Enter Louise l. Louise. And from whom do you take your orders, Uncle Jones ? 25 26 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES (William steps back and Louise confronts Jones.) Jones. Uh ! M-my orders ? Ah ! Uh ! My orders ? (Louise frowns threateningly.) From you, I guess! Ho, ho, ho ! Ha, ha, ha ! (Sits on sofa. Louise stands l. of sofa and begins to remove hat. William exits l. Jones, recovering.) Tell me, Louise, why did you go to town at this time of the morning? Louise. Well — (removes hat, places it on table, and sits on sofa beside Jones) to-day, you know, you're ex- pecting your son, Constantine, (Jones nods) and Helen and Mary thought that they'd love to see him. Jones. Huh? they did, did they! (Rises.) So you brought them along. You might think this was going to be a public reception. Louise (rising). But you won't object ! Jones. Object? I refuse to have them here. Do you think that outsiders should see a poor old father shed affectionate tears at greeting his long lost son ? (Helen and Mary enter l. Mary is still unhappy.) Helen. We won't look at you, Mr. Jones. We only want to see the son. Jones (turning toward her). And how do you think the son will like it? Helen. Oh, he won't mind. It'll break up his em- barrassment. Mary. I think we'd better go home. Helen (putting her arm around her). Come, Mary dear, cheer up again. You promised you would, you know. (Mary has handkerchief to her eyes.) Jones. What's this? Mary crying? What's the matter ? Louise (rising). We've all met with a great disap- pointment. Helen. But we had resolved to forget it immediately — and now Mary's gone back on us. Mary. If I've gone back on you, I've not gone back on Dick. Jones. Dick ? Who's Dick ? CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 27 Louise. Dick Westhaver whom she met in New York. He's proved to be not what she hoped. Jones. That so ! Hmm. Too bad. ( Offers Mary chair R. of table.) Sit down here and let's see what we can do to amuse you. (Helen leads Mary to chair and Mary sits down.) Helen (removing hat). Let's have your hat, Mary. (Mary removes her hat and hands it to Helen, who picks up Louise's also and exits l.) Jones. Now let's see what we can do to amuse you. Shall we play Hearts ? (Mary places hand on heart and groans.) Jones. Old Maid? Louise (reproachfully). Uncle. Reenter Helen l. Helen. No. Let's play Tiddle-de-winks. Louise. I have it! Let's prepare a grand reception for Constantine. Helen. Glorious ! We'll give him a royal one. Louise (clasping hands). Let's see. What can we do? Helen. We ought to have a throne! Jones (coming forzvard). Just a moment. Don't you think I've got anything to say about this ? Do you think I'm going to stand for any such nonsense ? Louise. Oh, Uncle Jones, be a sport. It'll be a lot of fun. Just think — Prince Constantine received in state by his Majesty, King Jones. Jones. But Constantine! Think of Constantine! What will he think about it ? Louise. All he'll think about is pleasing you. Helen. And getting his one hundred a week. Jones (turning on her). What? (Helen hides her face in her hands.) 28 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Mary (sobbing). I wish Dick was Mr. Sons Jones — I mean Mr. Jones' son. Helen. Quick! She's suffering a relapse. Louise, where can we get a throne ? Louise. There's a big packing box down cellar. Helen. Just the thing! Get it! Louise (going up r.). William! William! [Exit R. (Jones is considerably disturbed.) Helen. We ought to have something to cover the box. Can't you cheer up, Mary, and suggest something? Mary. Only to go back and find Dick. Helen. I know! I'll get that rug up in Louise's room. [Exits l. (Jones walks discontentedly r. Mary sobs. Jones looks at her.) Jones (crossing to her). Come, Mary. Don't take it so hard. There are just as good fish as ever were caught. Mary. Mr. Jones! Please do not refer to Dick in that manner. Enter Louise r. Louise (speaking through doorzvay). Bring it in here, William. (Considerable noise is heard and WilliAJvi enters with packing box. He has a hard time managing it but finally deposits it bottom up, c. He then retires r. Enter Helen with rug l. ) Splendid ! Put it on the box. (Helen begins to cover the box with rug.) William! {Pointing to chair r.) Bring that chair and put it on here. Jones (stepping on throne just as rug is laid). I'm sorry, but this nonsense has gone far enough. (William places chair on throne behind Jones.) I shan't stand for it. (Sits down.) Helen (pleadingly) . Oh, Mr. Jones. Louise (resignedly). Very well, Uncle, if you insist. Take the box back, William. Helen (indicating Jones). Mary, look! His royal highness, King Jones. CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 20, (Mary looks at Jones, her face lights up, and she bursts into a fit of laughter. Louise steps on throne.) Louise. See ? You've got Mary laughing ! Jones (looking at Mary, somewhat surprised). I see I have. Mary (rising). He ought to have a crown. Helen (to Louise). I have it ! Your old hat ! Louise (getting down from throne). Yes. Mary. I'll get it. } [Exits l. Jones (beginning to enjoy the fun). So I'm a king, ami? Ah! Reenter Mary with hat, which looks as though it might have been worn by the king of Abyssinia. She runs to Jones and places it on his head. Louise. Long live King Jones ! Helen. Long live King Jones ! Mary. Long live King Jones ! Louise. Shout, William. William (r., shouting). I hope Mr. Jones lives through this. (Door-bell rings off l. Jones and the girls stop their fun making and listen. William crosses to l. and exits. ) Jones (descending from throne). Who do you sup- pose that is? Louise. Don't get off your throne. It may be the prince. Reenter Wiliiam. William. Mr. Constantine Pueblo Jones desires an audience with his father. Jones (running about, terribly excited). It's Constan- tine ! Stop this nonsense. Take that box away. (Throws hat off and starts to pidl chair from throne. Mary whispers to William, who nods unwillingly. Helen and Louise force Jones into throne chair. 30 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Mary picks up the crown, jumps on back of throne and places it on his head again. Girls are laughing. ) Louise. Admit Prince Constantine, William. (Wil- liam exits. Jones struggles.) Your majesty! Helen. Receive him royally. Reenter William. William. His royal highness, Prince Constantine Pueblo Jones. {The girls release Jones. Enter Tom l., wearing a wig with long black hair, his face very white, and a book under his arm. He pauses l.) Jones {rising). My son. Tom {to audience). A nut. Helen. Behold. Louise. 'Tis the prince. Mary. Tis he. Tom. Ye gods! The girls! {Runs off l.) Louise. Bring him back! (William exits l.) Jones {calling after William). By persuasion, of course. (Tom reenters with considerable momentum followed by William.) William {to Jones). What did you say, sir? Jones {descending from throne.) Nothing of impor- tance now. My son! (Tom runs to him, and falls on one knee, seizing his hand. ) Tom. My father! {Kisses his hand.) Jones. Why — why did you run away? Tom. I was unhappy. Jones. Unhappy? Why? Tom. Because I wanted an automobile, the state-house dome in Boston, and the Woolworth building in New York. You wouldn't let me have them. Jones. But you were only three years old. CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 3 1 (Tom catches himself by the throat.) Tom. Yes, but father, I desired to see the world. Jones. So young? Tom. Alas, I have always been young. I am young now. In fact, I begin to think I was born young. (Helen is now l., Mary c. and Louise r. Their opinion of Tom is not at all complimentary. Jones looks around for Louise and locates her.) Jones. Arise, my son, and meet Louise, my niece — your cousin. (Tom approaches Louise but turns away his face and hides it with his left hand while he holds forth his right unsteadily.) Tom. H-how do ? (Louise is rather slow in taking the hand and lets it go very quickly.) Jones. Meet Louise's friends, Mary and Helen. (Tom shakes hands with them as though their hands were red hot, and turns around toward Jones.) Come, sit down, my son. You must be tired after wandering about for twenty years. (Leads him to sofa. Both sit down, Jones on Tom's r.) Tell us where you have been and what you have seen. (Louise brings desk chair r. of sofa and sits down facing sofa. Helen and Mary each bring a chair from table and sit down l. of sofa, Mary behind Helen. All this greatly annoys Tom. William exits l.) Tom. Well, immediately I had run out of sight of the house on the eventful day — most twenty years ago — I de- cided to strike for New York. But I made a slight mis- calculation and struck Greenland — off Baffin Bay. Leav- ing Greenland as soon as possible, I was blown upon Ice- land; slipping on Iceland, I struck the Scandinavian peninsula on North Cape, near Hammerf est 32 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Louise. May I inquire how much time you spent during these journeys? Tom. Oh, a day or so — perhaps a week — possibly a year — or it may have been ten years — I don't remember exactly. Louise. Thank you. Jones. Well, go on. Tom. From Norway I went to Nova Zembla. Then traversing the Arctic Ocean in a rowboat I landed at the island of New Siberia. But the shock of my landing was so great that I was thrown completely over the island and was forced to swim to Siberia proper — some forty miles away. Being still very young, as usual Jones. How young? Tom. Oh, four or five. Helen. More or less. Jones {takes a deep breath). Well, go on. Tom. From Siberia I jumped to Alaska. Louise (mockingly). No! Really? Tom. Figuratively speaking, of course. From Alaska, I traveled to New York. Louise. On foot, I suppose. Helen. Barefoot, perhaps. Tom. No, no, you're wrong! Pullman! You see, during my wanderings, I had composed my first poem, and it made such a sensation that the Alaskans gladly paid my carfare. Louise. A polite way of saying, " Here's your hat — don't hurry." Helen. It must have been quite a poem. Let's hear it now. Mary. Yes! Do recite it. What's the title? Tom (nervously) . Er — do you really want to hear it? Er — it's very crude. You — you — remember it was the very first one I wrote. I — I hardly remember it. It really wouldn't be worth your while to hear it. Louise. Oh, go ahead. We'll remember that you were only four or five when you wrote it. Mary. Please do. What's the title ? _ Tom. Well, if uncle — I mean father — no ! yes, that's right — father — doesn't object. (Jones, who has been CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 33 watching him sullenly for some time, grunts.) Do you object, father? Jones (turns more toward front, slumps down, folds hands, and twirls thumbs a couple of times). I guess I can stand it. Helen (after adjusting chair to suit her). Well, go ahead, what's the title? Tom. The title? Let me see. Oh, yes— "The Tale of the Dying Fish." Mary (disappointed). Oh-h-h! Tom (after an effort of memory). " On the low hills to westward The Consul fixed his eye, And saw the swarthy storm of dust Rise fast along the sky. But the Consul's brow was sad And the Consul's speech was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, And darkly at the foe : ' Their van will be upon us Before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge, What hope to save the town ? ' Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the gate: ' To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds For the temples of his fathers And the ashes of his gods ? * " (Rises and bows majestically.) Louise. Is it original ? Tom. It's original with the fellow who wrote it. Helen (with rapture). Oh! How wonderful! (Tom turns toward her and bows again.) 34 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Mary (who is perfectly disgusted). It was nothing but a nursery rhyme ! / could write a nursery rhyme. Louise. Yes, Mary, but remember he was in the nursery when he wrote it. Tom (falling on one knee beside Jones). And what does my dear, dear father say ? (Jones, who has not altered his position or his sullen expression, looks at him a moment and then turns away.) Jones. Haddock ! Tom. Haddock? Jones. Tripe! Tom. Tripe? (Looks at the girls inquiringly.) Louise. That means he doesn't care for it. Tom (apparently broken-hearted). Oh! (Sits dejectedly on sofa again.) Mary. I hate to say so, but I don't think he's much of a poet. Tom. Thank you for breaking it so gently. (Jones rises and walks thoughtfully by Louise and around to rear of sofa.) Helen. I think he's the sensation of the age. Jones. It's an awful sensation. (Walks thoughtfully to fireplace.) Louise. I should like to hear him make up some poetry. Helen. That would be fun. Mary. It would show how much of a poet he really is. Tom (his hand to his throat). My hash is cooked. Louise. What do you want to make one up about ? Tom. Oh! I think I could make up a good one about— about suicide. Mary. Oh, no! We'd better choose the subject, or he'll try to pass off one of his old ones on us. Helen. Yes, Mary's right. He might do that. Not, Mr. Jones, that we distrust you at all. CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 35 Tom. I see you don't. Louise. What shall it be? Mary {suddenly). His sensations when greeted by his father! (Jones shows disgust.) Helen. That's good enough. (Tom buries his face in his hands.) Mary. If we don't like the way it starts, we can change it. Louise (after slight pause). Come, come, Mr. Poet — we are waiting. Tom (raises head). But d-don't blame me if it doesn't run very smoothly. Even Longfellow got stuck once in a while, you know. Helen. But there's no comparison between you and Longfellow. (ToiM bows.) Louise. On your mark! (Tom straightens himself.) Set ! (Tom eases his collar. ) Go ! (Tom clears his throat.) Tom. As — as I entered yonder door With — with misgivings at my heart, I — I — I'd have fallen to the floor, If — if my feet had — spread apart. Helen (applauding). Wonderful! (Tom, who has surprised himself, swells with pride and knocks a bit of dust off his sleeve. ) Mary. It rhymes and that's about all. Louise. But it has a meter. Helen. Certainly it has. Mary. A meter! What for? Jones. It's a hot air meter. (Dances a few steps.) Helen. But don't interrupt him. Tom. And when my father I saw, I thought to myself with a sigh, " If this is what is my — my " 36 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Helen (who follows the words intently). Paw. Tom. " Paw," I will be quite proud to — to Louise. Die. Tom. " Die." No ! no, that's not right. Mary. Never mind. It'll do. Go on. Tom. But when I saw with whom he was, My heart began to — to Helen. Flutter. Tom. " Flutter " — of course. I was so startled by the — the Louise. Buzz. Tom. " Buzz." I ran like — like — melting butter. Helen. You're doing wonderfully well. (Jones comes to back of sofa.) Tom. And when back I came again, I noticed Jones. Unfortunately there's one way in which you don't resemble Longfellow. Tom. What's that? Jones. Longfellow's dead. (Jones starts toward fireplace again. Door-bell rings. Jones stops. All listen.) Dick (off l.). Zee papa! Zee papa! Queek! To maze arms ! Mary (rising) . That voice ! Enter William suddenly, closing door behind him. Jones. What is it, William? William. I don't know. (Dick begins to beat upon the door. William braces himself against it.) Dick (off l. ) . Mong pair ! Mong pair ! Let meez in. Eet is my son — no ! your son. Jones (loudly). My son? CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 37 (Tom makes for door r. but Louise has risen and throws herself in front of it. ) Dick (still beating on door). Wee! Wee! Eet eez Constantine ! Eet eez Constantine Pueblo ! Louise. Constantine! Open the door, William. Dick (off l.). Wee! Open ze door! (William opens the door. Dick, wearing a mustache, an imperial, and a hat such as D'Artagnan might have worn, rushes in and embraces William.) Mong pair! Eet eez I. At last eet eez I! (Kisses William.) William (struggling). Hold on! Dick (continuing to embrace him). Don't you know me, pair ? Don't you know me ? Eet eez I ! Eet eez I ! William (shouting). Somebody eat 'is eye and get it over with. (Releases himself from Dick's embrace.) Helen. Are they twins? Jones (approaching Dick). You say you are Con- stantine Jones ? Dick. Wee ! Eet eez I ! Eet eez I ! (Flings his arms around William's neck. William seises his wrists and transfers Dick's embrace to Jones. Tom hides behind throne.) Jones. But it is impossible. There is my son. (Points behind him to Helen.) Dick. No, no. Zat eez your daughtair. / eez your son! Jones. But you're Italian. Dick (relinquishing Jones from embrace). Italienn? No. (Proudly.) Franshay! Jones. But my son was an American. Dick. Ah. Jus' so ! But I grow up in Paree. Tom. By George, it's Dick ! Jones (to Dick). One of you is lying ! Dick. One of me ! Ha ! you see doubell. (Tom comes boldly to c. Mary goes to front of sofa.) Tom. That man's a liar. 38 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Dick. What make you tink so? Tom. Because this is my father and I am his son. Dick. That voice ! Tom. What's the matter with it? Dick (recognising him). So! it's you, is it? (Tom falls on one knee beside Jones, seises his hand and kisses it.) Tom. Father, do you doubt me ? Dick (falling on knee, the other side of Jones). Fathair, surely you will not turn me out? (He leans in front of Jones and looks up at him.) Tom (placing his hand against Dick's face, pushing him back, and taking his position). Father, I have been your son all my life. Dick (pushing Tom back). Oh fathair, if you knew how much I need zat one hundred dollar a week. Tom (pushing Dick back). Father, as your son, I insist that you recognize me. Dick (pushing Tom back). Fathair, I insist zat you throw zat man into ze jail. Tom (pushing Dick back). Get out! Dick (pushing Tom back). Get out yourself! Jones (separating them). Just a minute! William, send for Jack Doe, my lawyer. William. Yes, sir. [Exit l. Dick ) T f (rising and watching William exit). Lawyer! Jones. Yes, a lawyer. And in the meantime, I guess we'd better keep you in separate rooms. You might hurt each other's feelings. Helen (to Mary and Louise). They do seem rather violent. (Dick and Tom look at each other. Jones crosses to r. door.) Jones (at door r.). If you gentlemen will accom- pany me? CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 39 (Tom and Dick start to cross but stop simultaneously; start again and again stop; then exit. Jones fol- lows. ) Louise (seating herself on sofa). Well, what do you think? Mary (sitting beside Louise). I think it's funny. (Helen also sits upon sofa.) Louise. But don't you think you recognize them? Mary. Who ? Constantines ? Helen. If there were three of them, I'd have my suspicions. Mary. What are you girls driving at ? Louise. Great Scott, Mary ! Didn't you notice any- thing familiar about that would-be Frenchman? Mary (thoughtfully). Why, I did think his voice sounded a little familiar. Louise. Good ! Whose did it sound like ? Mary. Like Dick Westhaver's. (Louise looks at Helen. Both smile triumphantly. Mary looks at them.) Oh! I thought probably you'd laugh. Louise. No, Mary. We think it is Dick. Mary. But Dick couldn't grow a mustache in an hour and a half. Helen. He bought that one. And what did you think of the poet? Mary. That must have been Tom. Then where's Harry ? Louise. He hasn't shown up yet, but doubtless he will, shortly. Mary. But what are they doing all this for ? Louise. I can't believe they are really trying to hood- wink uncle. Helen. Want to know what I think ? I think they're just trying to play a practical joke on us. Mary. I think it's rather hard on Mr. Jones. Enter William l., starts to cross to R. door. Door-bell rings. 40 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Louise. There's the door-bell, William. (William turns and exits l.) Helen. They always were full of fun. But what shall we do ? Tell them we know them ? Louise. No. Let's pretend to be deceived and see what they're going to do. It'll be fun. Helen. And when they think they've " got us going " we'll have the laugh on them. What do you say, Mary? Mary (nodding). All right. Reenter William. William. Pardon me, Miss Louise, but the men from the laundry are here and want to know if they may come in and take down the portieres now. Louise (pointing to portieres at r. door). These? William. Yes, miss. Louise. Very well. (William exits l.) Helen. How long has Mrs. Hucksley had men work- ing for her ? Louise. I don't know — but we'd better go somewhere else. Come up in my room. (The girls exit r. Enter Whiskey and Dodge carry- ing Walter covered over with a sheet in a clothes- basket. William enters. The detectives set the basket on floor l.) William. That belongs in the kitchen. Whis. Yes, sir. (They pick basket up and cross with it to C. Here they again deposit it on the floor.) William. I said, "Kitchen!" (Points to R. door.) Whis. Yes, sir. (They pick up basket and cross to R., where they pause and look at William, zvho still watches them.) Yes, sir. (They exit R. William exits l. Whis. and Dodge reenter with basket which they CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 4 1 deposit on floor at c. Whis. points to door r.) Those must be the portieres. (Takes chair at r. of sofa, places it near door, and climbs upon it.) Dodge. But I say, Whiskey, this'll only take us half a minute and we may have to stay here all day. Whis. (descending and coming to Dodge). I know. But what are we going to do? Dodge. At least one of us ought to stay here. (Whis. remains thoughtful for a moment.) Whis. You might take the butler's place. Dodge. I suppose you think the family wouldn't rec- ognize me. Whis. They might, but the girls we saw at the sta- tion are here and they know we're all right. They'd ex- plain if anything happened. Dodge. How do you think you're going to persuade that bone-head of a butler? Whis. We'll use persuasive means. I'll get down on all fours behind him and you push him over my back. Then we'll both land on him. Dodge. Sounds good. (Whis. climbs on chair again.) Whis. We'll wait till he comes in here again. (Whis. pretends to busy himself with portieres. Dodge sits on chair l. of sofa. Enter William l. ) William. You are intelligent. I said to take that to the kitchen. (Crosses and places hands on back of Dodge's chair.) Get up, will you — I want to move this chair. (Dodge rises and William takes chair to l. Whis. has descended and now crawls along at William's l. side. William stops suddenly and looks at him. Whis. appears to be adjusting an imperfection in the rug. William continues. Whis. also con- 42 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES tinues. William stops. Whis. discovers another imperfection. William proceeds around front of table. Whis. bumps his head on table leg and stops. William places chair at l. of table and starts back for other. Whis. accompanies him as before. William stops. Whis. examines rug. Dodge ap- proaches quickly but William turns toward him suddenly and he dances back again. William pro- ceeds but his head turns like a balance zvheel out of order as he tries to watch both Whis., who continues to accompany him, and Dodge, who dances about In front of him trying to find an opportunity to push him over. William secures the other chair and hurries back with it to R. of table. Whis. accom- panies him on one side and Dodge on the other but they do not find an opportunity for accomplishing their object. William places chair and turns toward Dodge, his hands on his hips. ) William. What are you up to? Dodge. Up to the chest. (Hits William on chest. William falls backward over Whis. and both detectives endeavor to seise him but he overpowers them and holds them down on their backs with his hands on their throats.) Whis. Walter! Help! (Walter, still covered by the sheet, rises slowly from the basket. William sees him; is astounded; re- leases Dodge and Whis. and rises. The detectives begin to rise cautiously. William closes his eyes and falls stiffly over backwards. Dodge catches him. Walter throws off sheet. Dodge drags the uncon- scious William off l. by the collar.) Walter. Say! That's my pop! What are you dom* to him? Whis. He's all right. Dodge is going to change places with him — that's all. Detectives have to make these little sacrifices, you know. CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 43 Walter. What are yer goin' to do with me? Whis. {looking around). Hmm! We'll have to hide you somewhere. {Goes to throne and contemplates it for a moment. Takes off chair and turns box on its side.) Here's a swell place. You won't be able to see much but you can hear everything. Walter {stepping out of basket). It don't look over comfortayble. Whis. I guess you can stand it. (Walter crouches near box and Whis. turns it over on him. Then he re- places chair on top.) Now remember — listen to every- thing that's said — especially when those three crooks are around. Can you hear me distinctly ? Walter {in box). Yes. Extinctly. Whis. Good ! Then I will leave you for the present. Walter. Aren't you goin' to take down the draperies ? Whis. The deuce with those. (Whis. exits l. Enter Jones r. Crosses to window and stands looking out. Enter Louise r.) Louise. Has Mr. Doe come yet, uncle ? Jones. No. Enter Helen and Mary r. Helen. Have any more sons shown up, Mr. Jones? Jones. No, thank Heaven. If any do, I'll have 'em thrown out. Enter Dodge l., followed by William. They have changed clothes. William. I'm goin' down and tell Mrs. Hucksley about this. Dodge. Tell the whole family. I don't care. William. She'll be here in no time. Dodge. Good ! I'd like to meet her. Is she anything like you ? William. You wait! [Exits l. Helen. It's the detective ! Dodge {finger on lips) . Ssh ! Let me stay! 44 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Jones (coming down l.). Hullo! What's this? A new butler ? Louise. Yes, pro temp, uncle. William has sprained his ankle. Dodge (engagingly). Yes. That's it ! Quite so ! Jones (going back to window). Can't say I think much of the substitute. Dodge (under his breath to Louise). Thanks. (Door-bell rings. Enter Tom and Dick r.) Is that the bell? Dick. Deed eet sound like ze whistle ? (Louise nods and Dodge exits l.) Jones (to boys who have reached c). I thought I told you to stay in the rooms I assigned to you. Tom. Dear father, when you see what just came up your front steps, you will not blame us for rushing to your protection. Reenter Dodge. Dodge. Constantine Pueblo Jones desires to speak with his father. Jones. Tell him to go away ! Don't let him in ! Helen (in "stage" whisper to Dodge). Let him in. Jones. Don't let him in ! [Exit Dodge l. Louise. Uncle, to your throne ! It is the prince ! (The girls force Jones onto his throne. He frees himself and comes down l. c. Tom and Dick go down r.) Harry (off l.). Get out a* my way, you eastern fox trotter ! Dodge (off l.). The boss says you can't come in. Harry (off l.). Can't, hey? Get out of my way or I'll fill you so full of lead you'll be worth a nickel a pound ! (Dodge enters l. with considerable velocity, landing on back in doorway. Harry, dressed in cowboy CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 45 costume, with revolver, lasso, etc., enters over Dodge. Pauses l. and grins good-naturedly.) Louise (aside). It's Harry (Harry goes to Jones and slaps him on the back nearly knocking him over.) Harry. So this is paw. 'Lo, paw. Jones (timidly). How d'do. Tom (advancing toward Harry). Look here, you big brute, what do you mean by treating my father that way? Dick (also approaching). Wee. He say what I say only he say eet. Harry ( to Tom ) . And who might you be ? Tom. I am Constantine Pueblo Jones. Harry. Indeed! (To Dick.) Who are you? Dick. Constantine Pueblo Jones. Harry (scrutinizing them intently). So it's you, is it? (Draws himself up.) Well ! (The girls approach behind Jones.) Mary. Who do you think you are, you big bluff ? Harry. Huh ? (Puts his hand to his mouth as he recognises the girls.) Helen. Yes, you cheap actor, you wouldn't hurt a kitten. Harry (in a terrible voice). I wouldn't, hey? I'll show you. (Draws revolver and begins to load it with cartridges from his belt. ) I didn't become the champion shot of Ohio by graft, I can tell you that! I haven't been shooting caterpillars off the California orange trees ten years for nothing, I can tell you that ! I haven't got the reputation of being able to shave a man's beard through sarcasm, I can tell you that ! (He now has his revolver loaded. The others have already recoiled a con- siderable distance. He now speaks slowly but force- fully.) Stand aside, please, so I can practice a little on that packing box. (Tom, Dick, and Louise go quickly 46 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES down r. Helen, Mary and Jones move up L.) Here goes! (Harry takes aim at throne. As he does so, the throne begins to move rapidly around rear of stage toward l. door. All but Harry are astonished.) See? Even the furniture is scared of me. Stop, furniture, I won't shoot. {The throne stops and Harry seats himself in its chair.) Now, if you people 'ull all come around front where I can see ya, I'll talk to ya. (Helen, Mary and Jones, who are behind throne, decline to move. Harry rises.) I'm awaitin' ya! {They come down r. nerv- ously. Harry sits down and crosses his legs. ) The rest of ya better come nearer. {The others approach.) Now, Mr. Jones, who's ya son? Jones. I don't know ; but when my lawyer comes Harry. So ! Ya got a lawyer comin', have ya ? Jones. Yes. Harry. Say, " Yes, sir," when you're speakin' to me. Jones. Yes — sir. Harry. Now, when the lawyer comes send him to me — {shouting) d'ya hear? Jones. Yes — sir. Harry. I want it understood now, howsbmever, that I'm your son and that I'm goin' to be your son no matter what happens. Is it understood? Jones. Yes — sir. Harry {savagely). D'ya all understand it? All {with enthusiasm). Yes, sir! Harry. Now ya can all go except these two Con- stantines, and when the lawyer comes ya all want to come back. D'ya understand? All. Yes, sir. Harry {with a wave of his hand). Go. [The girls and Jones exit. Dick {angrily to Harry). Look here, Harry, do you think you're going to get away with this thing? Harry {coolly). Looks like it. {Gets off throne.) Tom. We're in a nice pickle, now, with trie three of us trying this stunt. Harry {taking chair off throne). We may as well keep it up till twelve o 'clock. There's nothing else to do. It's our only chance. CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 47 Dick. Well, two of us ought to get out and let one fellow have it. Tom. I'm agreeable — provided that you're the two who get out. Harry. That's it. None of us want to get out. (Tips over box.) Hello. Look what we've got here. (Walter stands up.) Dick. It's the boy who was in the lunch room. Harry. What were you doing under there ? Walter. Nothin'. I was sleepin'. Gee ! You nearly shot a hole through me. Harry. I may yet ! Walter. Better not, 'cause mother'd be mad if she had to darn up my clothes. Harry. What's your name? Walter. Walter. Harry. Well, Walter, you stay over here for a while. (Places him near l. wall, then goes to Dick and Tom, places hands on their shoulders and takes them down c) Now listen, fellows (Walter escapes through l. door.) Tom. There goes Walter! (Dick goes to door.) Harry. Let him go. He's all right, I guess. Dick. Well, I don't know. I think there are some detectives on our trail. Somebody followed me here — I'm sure. Harry. Our wicked career is almost over anyhow. We'll be starting for New York this afternoon. Tom. I have an uncanny feeling something is going to happen before then. Harry. At any rate, I intend to do my best to get this one hundred dollars a week allowance. IhCK. \ S ° d ° L (Conny appears at windozv endeavoring to look into room. ) 48 CONST ANTINE PUEBLO JONES Tom (pointing at window). Look! Dick. I bet it's a detective ! (Harry ducks behind overturned throne and Dick and Tom join him. Conny opens window, enters cau- tiously, closes it, cautiously crosses to r. Looks out door, looks toward l. door, listens, goes to mantel- piece and begins to put small ornaments into pockets. He works rapidly. Tom goes quietly to his r., Dick to his l., and Harry behind him. ) Tom (slapping Conny on the back). Good morning! (Conny stops.) Conny. Good morning. (Begins putting ornaments back on mantelpiece.) Dick. Pardon us for interrupting you. Conny (still returning ornaments). Oh, that's all right, don't mention it. (Finishes and turns, looks at boys, and moves slowly down stage.) Harry (coming down). Is that your regular business? Conny. What? That? (Pointing toward mantel- piece.) No. That's just a little side line. I'm really a gentleman of the road. I travel — on foot. Tom (aside to Dick). Does he look like a genuine tramp to you, Dick ? Dick. Yes, I think so. Harry. Are you staying here for long? Conny. No. I intend to reach the next town by night. I thought maybe I'd stop here for lunch. Would ya give me a bite? Harry. Sorry, but we don't live here. Tom (to Dick). I'm going to question him. (Comes down on Conny's r.) I say, old fellow, who are you? Conny. Ya want to know my name ? Tom. Yes. Conny. Huh! It's an odd name. I've almost for- CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 49 gotten it. (Pronounces it slowly in rather a loud voice.) Constantine Pueblo (Harry claps his hand over Conny's mouth, while Tom and Dick fall upon him, bearing him to the floor. ) Dick. What'll we do — kill him or drown him? CURTAIN ACT III SCENE. — Same as Act II. The clothes basket is gone and the throne is at c. again. The chair, formerly at l. of table, is now behind table. (Dodge is concealed behind portieres at door r. Enter Tom, Dick, and Harry through window.) To/m. I don't see how the deuce Conny got away from us. Harry. I see how he got away from us all right ; but I don't see where he can be now. Dick. Tom let him get away. Tom. He ran right by you, however. Dick. I tell you again that I bet he's three miles away from here by this time. Harry. And I tell you that if he had left the grounds, we'd have seen him on the road. He couldn't have swam the lake. Believe me! if he should find out that he's worth a hundred dollars a week, he'd stick around here. Dick {coming down stage). We may as well give it up. Let's sit down. {Sits back of table.) Tom {sitting on corner of packing box). I feel kind of guilty about going on with this thing now that the real son has shown up. Harry {sitting r. of table). He may not be the real son. Tom. It's all very well to deceive ourselves, but we know all the time that he is. Harry. Now that I've started, I'm going to keep it up. If this Conny is the real son, he'll be able to prove it, and we will make an honorable retreat, that's all. Dick. The fact that Mary's here is enough to make me stick. Tom. I was getting along fine until you fellows showed up. 50 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 5 1 Harry (looking at him). What are you posing as — a musician Tom. No. A poet. Dick. A poet! I hope they ask you to recite some poetry. Tom. They have. Dick. What did you give them? Tom. Oh, some stuff I learned at college. Harry. Horrors ! Did you get mobbed ? Tom. No. They liked it. Dick. I heard that Mr. Jones was fond of French- men. That's why I'm in this make-up. Tom. I hope they ask you to talk French. Harry. Do you know, I begin to think my idea about making this bet was quite original. Tom. It was aboriginal. Harry. No, but really ! We've had a lot of fun. Dick. An awful lot. And we're going to have a lot more with that three-year contract. Harry. You fellows haven't any sense of humor. Tom. Not a bit. By the way ! How much time have we got? (All look at their watches.) Dick. Ye gods ! It's getting late. (All rise.) Harry. Let's separate and — since we're all going to stick — each man for himself. Tom. Good idea ! Gentlemen, I wish you luck ! [Exits r. Harry (going to window). Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Dick. Dick. Don't take any wooden nickels, Harry. (Harry exits through window. Dick exits l. Dodge comes from behind portiere.) Dodge. I couldn't make much out of that conversa- tion. They're a bad crowd, though, I can see that (Goes to window. Enter Jones r. Dodge approaches him.) 52 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Pardon me, Mr. Jones, I want to speak to you. I'm not really a butler. Jones. No ? Dodge. I'm a detective. Jones. Sit down. (Offers him chair and sits on sofa.) Dodge (c.). I have a colleague and we're tracking down those three sons of yours. Jones. They're not all sons of mine, thank heaven. Dodge. But one of 'em may be. Jones. Yes, that's true. Pickerel! Dodge. I sympathize with you if that is the case. Jones. I need sympathy. Salt water salmon! Dodge. However, let's hope for the best. Jones. What are you chasing them for? Dodge. They've been causing trouble ever since they left New York. Every town they've been in they've had to leave on the run. Jones. Don't say. Dodge. Yes, sir! We despise their crimes, admire their zeal, and marvel at their persistency. Jones. What are they — lunatics? Dodge. Sometimes we almost believe so, but they've always been sane enough to clear out at the right moment. Jones. But why do you speak to me about this ? Dodge. Out of kindness to you, Mr. Jones. We fear they are plotting some great crime. We fear for your safety. They are powerful and very, very bad! Jones (uneasily). I wish you'd speak a little — a little more cheerfully. Dodge. Alas, the occasion is too serious. These men — no matter what they are plotting — to gain their ends, would ignite a powder plant, undermine a railroad bridge, or even sink a navy! Jones. I always said a navy was a bad place to be in. Dodge. Consider then, Mr. Jones, what they may do here! They would think nothing of cutting you up, stuffing you bit by bit into a tobacco tin, and throwing you into a stone crusher! CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 53 Jones {shuddering) . I wouldn't think much of that either ! Dodge. In short, Mr. Jones, your life isn't worth a cigar butt. Jones. I have one favor to ask. Dodge. Granted. What is it? Jones. Don't tell my insurance company. Dodge. Certainly not. And now, Mr. Jones, I and my colleague desire to throw ourselves at your feet and beg permission to protect you from these criminals. Jones. I'm much obliged, I'm sure. Dodge. In order to do so, we must be at liberty to go wherever we please and do whatever we want — to use your house as though it were our own. Jones. Hmm! About these criminals — you don't have the habit of judging other people by yourself, do you? Dodge. Not at all. Jones. In that case, I give you permission to protect me. Dodge. Thank you. {Door-bell rings.) The door. {Exits l. Jones rises and slowly moves c. Enter Dodge.) Your lawyer, Mr. Jones. Enter Doe, a rather stout man with a rather expression- less face. He carries a hand-bag. Doe {holding out his hand). Good morning, Mr. Jones. Jones {shaking hands). Morning, Doe. Are you ready for business ? Doe. Always ready for business, Mr. Jones Jones. Got quite a case for you this morning. Doe. So I hear. William says two sons have shown up. Jones. There's three of them now. Doe. Don't say. Well, the more the merrier. By the way, who's this new butler of yours? Jones {in low voice). He's a detective. Doe. I thought so. {Turns toward Dodge.) Your name's " Dodge," isn't it ? 54 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Dodge {approaching). Right you are — and I live up to my name. (They shake hands.) Doe. I thought I recognized you. Are you working on this case? Dodge. Yes. I have another fellow helping me. Doe. Bring him here. Perhaps amongst the four of us we may be able to do something. (Dodge goes to window and signals by placing his thumbs in his ears and wiggling his fingers. Doe sits behind table and takes papers and pencil from bag.) Well, what's the name given by the first applicant to your parental affection ? Jones. Constantine Pueblo Jones. (Doe writes. Jones sits R. of table.) Doe. What's the name of the second? Jones. Constantine Pueblo Jones. (Doe writes.) Doe. Third? Jones. Constantine Pueblo Jones. (Doe looks at him and then writes.) Doe. Now, what should be the name of the rightful son? Jones. Constantine Pueblo Jones. Doe. What are you doing — kidding me ? Jones. Not at all. (Doe writes.) Doe. Glad they all have the same name. It'll prevent complications. Enter Whis. through window; he follows Dodge to c. Dodge. Let me introduce my colleague — Whiskey. Doe. Whiskey ! (Whis. bows.) Whis. I'm a little out of date, I know. CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES' 55 (Jones and Doe rise and bow. ) Doe. Never mind. With a name like that you'll al- ways be welcome. {Moves to c.) Now, in the matter at hand, I think it safe to presume that at least one of the three is the real son. This brings the question down to simply this: Which is the son? When we have dis- covered that we will proceed to jail the other two. Am I clear? Jones. Perfectly. But how are you going to tell which is the real son ? Doe. Ah ! Now you have asked a question which we can't answer, Mr. Jones. That was very foolish of you. Jones. Why foolish? Doe. Because now we're stuck — now we're at a stand- still. Jones. But I Doe. Oh, we forgive you, Mr. Jones. But it's too bad. We were getting along so nicely, too — yes, it's too bad. (Doe, Dodge, and Whis. shake their heads sadly.) Now we'll have to start on an entirely new track. In- stead of determining which one is the son, we shall deter- mine which two are not. Jones. But I don't see how you can do that any better. Doe. Mr. Jones ! This is really too bad. Now you've stuck us again. (Doe, Dodge, and Whis. look at Jones fiercely.) Jones. I'm very sorry. (Sits meekly r. of table.) Dodge. He reminds me of a sheet of fly-paper. Doe (to detectives). Well, gentlemen, can you sug- gest any way out of our dilemma ? Whis. It's a pretty serious dilemon. Dodge. Dill lemon! It's a dill pickle! Whis. I tell you what we might do. Doe. What? Whis. We might get those three girls to determine the right one. Dodge. Why leave it to the girls ? Whis. Girls are clever, you know. 56 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Dodge. That's a matter of opinion. I knew a girl once who was stupid. Whis. What's the matter? Did she refuse you? Dodge. Yes — and married another man. Whis. She wasn't stupid. She had sense. Dodge (his voice beginning to rise). But now he's a bankrupt. Whis. (shouting) . She didn't know he was going to be a bankrupt, did she ? Dodge. She might have guessed it. (Shouting.) Doe (intervening) . Pardon me, gentlemen, but I think Whiskey's idea is a good one. Let's let the girls try it. What do you say to that, Mr. Jones? Jones (meekly). I'm sorry, but I don't think much of it. Dodge. Oh, you spoil everything! Doe. Nevertheless, I think we'll overrule your veto, Mr. Jones. Will you have the kindness to speak to the girls about it? Jones (rising). I suppose so. Doe. And in the meantime, I'll go out on the lawn and take a nap. (Jones exits R.) Another thing, boys — I think it would be well not to let any one leave the house until this thing is settled. See you later. [Exits through window. (Dodge sits on table Enter Harry r.) Whis. Well, Dodge, I'll guess we'll soon have those fellows. (Harry comes in c, unnoticed.) Dodge. At any rate, Whiskey, they'll have to hand it to us — we're still on the track. Harry (twirling revolver). Look out for the engine. (Dodge and Whis. look at him and start for l. door.) Don't go. I want to ask you something. Has that law- yer come yet ? Dodge. N-no, he hasn't. Harry (looking at watch). Let me know when he comes. [Exits R. CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 57 Whis. (comes to c). There's something about that fellow I don't like. Dodge (coming to c). Same here. It's his gun. Enter Walter, l. Walter. Hello, fellers. Dodge. Hello. Where did we leave you? I thought we left you in that box. Walter. Bill Hart found me. Whis. Bill Hart! Oh, yes. That's a good place though. You'd better get back in there. Walter. All right, sir, I will. Is anybody looking? (Whis. goes to door r. Dodge to door l.) Whis. It's all right. Go ahead. (Walter takes chair off box. As he does so, the box moves rapidly toward front of stage, stops, and turns over. Conny stands up.) Dodge. Look who's here. (Whis. and Dodge approach.) Walter. It's the tramp! Conny. Now, I admit I don't know how or why, but I want you fellers to understand that I'm worth one hundred dollars a week. I heard Bill Hart say so. Whis. A hundred a week? Fifty-two hundred a year? You look as though you were. Conny. I just found out. If I'd 'a' known it before, I wouldn't be in this rig — believe me, Xantipsy ! Dodge. Well, what are you going to do, now that you know? Conny. I'm going to find out about it. And in the meantime, if any one here would care to loan me — say, twenty dollars, I'd guarantee 'em one hundred per cent on it when I pay 'em back, making a total of forty dollars and a clear gain of twenty. Whis. But the question is — when would you pay it back? Conny. Just as soon as I had it. 58 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Dodge. Well, we don't believe in investments mucK around here. Mrs. H. (off l.). Come along, William! We'll find him! (Enter Mrs. H., l., followed closely by William. She carries a traveling bag. They march across stage.) William, do you see the man who took your place? (They march back to l.) William (pointing to Dodge). Yes, that's the feller, right there. He's got my clothes on now. Mrs. H. Very good ! (Goes to back of table and sets bag upon it. William goes to l. of her. ) Dodge. Am I afraid of her? I am. Whis. Something tells me you'd better leave. (Mrs. H. begins to take various implements of war — plates, knives, rolling pin, etc., out of bag and place them upon table.) Mrs. H. The gentleman with the handsome whiskers had better get out of the way. The tramp can stay. I don't like tramps. Dodge. Tell me. Is she setting the table? Whis. Not by a long shot. She's preparing for war ! Con ny. Pardon me, ma'am, — but you certainly don't intend to — to throw those things. Mrs. H. (still busy). I certainly do. Con ny. Now listen — listen to reason, ma'am. You don't want to hold anything against me just because I'm a tramp. I'll tell you somepin' ! I'm goin' to be a mil- lionaire pretty soon. Bill Hart said so. (Mrs. H. pauses to look at him.) Mrs. H. Bill Hart? (Resumes work.) I hate Bill Hart ! Whis. Well, gentlemen, I don't like to leave you — but I think I will take her advice and retire. Don't worry about anything. I'll see to the burial arrangements my- self. (Goes up stage.) CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 59 Dodge. Ma'am, ma'am, I appeal to your sense of right and wrong. Do you think you are justified in this — this assassination ? Mrs. H. I am convinced. I am inspired. Conny. I wish she was spired. Dodge. Ma'am, ma'am, I appeal to your sense of — of decency! Do you think it's nice to litter up a man's drawing room with blood and broken china? Mrs. H. (still busy). Under the present circum- stances, I do. Dodge. Ma'am, ma'am, I appeal to your sense of — of law and order ! Do you ? Mrs. H. I don't care a snap for law and order. Dodge. But your sense of beauty, ma'am! Do you think it looks well to see a woman throwing china? Do you think Michael Angelo or any other sculptor would have cared to depict such an act ? Do you — do you ? (Mrs. H. has emptied the bag which she nozv places on the floor.) Mrs. H. (arranging weapons on table). I guess I can do it gracefully. (She picks up a plate and raises it above her shoulder prepared to throw it.) I don't know which one this will hit Conny. Don't ! Don't ! Dodge. Stop her! Somebody stop her! Somebody grab the plate ! (William, who is standing behind her, seizes the plate, and drops, sobbing, into chair back of table.) William. I can't see it done ! I can't see it done ! (Dodge, Conny and Whis. approach Mrs. H.) Dodge. Look here, ma'am. You're mad because I took your husband's place, ain't you ? Mrs. H. Yes, I am ! Dodge. Well, I'm sorry and I'm ready to give him the job back. Will that settle things ? Mrs. H. You'll give it back? Dodge. Yes. 60 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Mrs. H. Certainly that settles it. Enter Doe through window. Doe (to c. ) . What's all the excitement in here ? ( Mrs. H. is repacking her bag. ) Whis. This lady is in the pottery business. She was just about to demonstrate how to fire china. Doe. Does she happen to know anything about our three friends? Whis. She ought to. They came to her restaurant for breakfast. Mrs. H. Yes, and they didn't pay for it. Walter. They didn't eat much of it, though. Doe (to Mrs. H.). Would you mind staying here a while, ma'am; we may need you. Mrs. H. Providing I can stay in the kitchen. I don't feel at home in these saloons. Whis. Certainly. Right this way, ma'am. (Goes to door r. Mrs. H. exits R. with bag. Whis. follows. ) Dodge. Come, old fellow — we'll change clothes again. (Puts his arm around William and they exit at r. Doe exits through window.) Conny. How can I solve this mystery of the one hun- dred dollars a week? I guess I'll have to let it solve itself. You don't happen to know anything about it, do you? Walter. Don't know anything about it, and don't believe anything about it either. (Conny takes rug from box and prepares a couch on floor L.) Conny. Well, I'm goin' to stay here until I find out about it. Walter. What are you goin' to do — snooze ? Conny (lying down and arranging rug). Sure, haven't had any sleep since last night. CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 6l Walter. I hope you enjoy yourself. [Exits through window. Conny (singing). "Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching." Enter Mary and Dick, r. Conny covers himself com- pletely with rug. As he does so he says: " One of my persecutors." Mary. Tell me, Constantine, are you or are you not Mr. Jones' son? Dick. My comman' of zee Eenglish language ees so small, I moos ansaire you in Fransay. Zee an an donk goo kongk wee wee wee nix ! Mary (sitting on sofa). I wish you would teach me the French language. Dick (bringing chair from r. of table to C. and sitting in it). Eet would delights me, provided you would teach me ze Eengleesh language. Mary. Which do you like better — America or France ? Dick. Oh ! ze America. Zer ees so many attractions 'ere — like mam'sel for eenstance. Mary. Is monsieur in love? Dick. Ah, deeply, mam'sel. Despereetly. And mam'sel ees also een love ? Mary. No. Dick (jumping up and forgetting his French). No? Do you mean that — do you ? Mary (heaving a sigh). Alas, yes. I once loved but he turned out to be not what I hoped and since then I have found out that I didn't care — very much. (Dick sits down hard.) Dick. What's the matter, anyway? What's the un- lucky fellow done? Mary. When I last saw him he had some detectives following him. Any man who has detectives on his trail ought to be shunned. Dick. Why, that's nothing. I've even had detectives on my trail. Mary. You and he resemble each other a lot. I guess 62 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES all criminals look alike. By the way, it seems to me you talk English pretty well. Dick. Mong voo tay elasteek, mazee doogane ! Mary. No, really? That sounds about as much like French as Germany's declaration of war. Dick. Can you do any better? Mary. Could if I was a Frenchman. Enter Louise through window, followed by Tom. Louise {coming down stage). Certainly not! Cer- tainly not! Mary. Hello, Louise. What's the trouble? (Louise sits on sofa beside Mary.) Louise. Fancy, Mary! Constantine wants to know if I'd like to have him make poetry for me all my life ! Mary. Heavens ! Does he think you could stand it ? Tom. My poetry's all right. You're talking about something you don't know anything about. Mary. Yes, that's right. Nobody could make head or tail out of your poetry. Enter Helen l., followed by Harry. Helen (coming down stage). Positively, absolutely no! (Helen crosses to r. of sofa. Harry remains at L.) Mary. What's the trouble with you, Helen? Helen. The idea ! Constantine wants me to go out west with him and hunt buffaloes. Louise. Buffaloes! I thought all the buffaloes were dead — except those in the zoos. Helen. He's a funny cowboy, anyway. I don't think he's quite right in his head. Harry. I notice nobody has considered it necessary to lock me up. (Sits in chair back of table.) I've gen- erally been considered pretty sound. Tom. If you're pretty sound the rest of the world must be an unharmonious discord. There's no resem- blance. CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 63 Dick. I suppose you call that poetical. Tom. It was musical, too. Harry. Yes, music in " b " flat — " b " standing for bad. Helen. They quarrel dreadfully, don't they ? Louise. You might almost believe they were brothers. Mary. Just think — at least two of them are impostors and will have to go to jail, perhaps. Louise. Which do you suppose is the honest one? Helen. I wouldn't trust any one of them with a plated butter-spreader. (Conny snores.) Harry. What was that? Tom. Sounded uncommonly like a buzz saw. Harry (seeing rug and rising). What's under here? (Goes to rug and takes hold of it. Conny snores.) Dick. Look out ! It may be a beehive. (Harry pulls rug off Conny.) Tom (approaching). It's that confounded tramp. What'll we do with him? Dick. Let's dump him in the lake ! Harry. No. But I tell you what we can do. We can take him out on the road and leave him there. When he wakes up, he may move on to the next town. Tom. That's a good idea. Dick (taking Conny's heels). Come on, then. (Harry takes Conny under the arms and they start for the window. Just as they arrive, William, in his own clothes again, appears at window with revolver and stops them. ) William. I've been told not to let any one out. (Dick and Harry make a rush with Conny for door l. Here they are met by Dodge with a revolver. ) Dodge. It's too bad, but I'm here. 64 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Dick. It's a trap. Harry. And we're trapped. Enter Doe through window. Comes down c. rubbing his hands. Doe (to girls). Well, have we discovered the real son? Girls. Yes, we have. Doe. Great ! Which is he ? Louise. The one on the left. Helen. The one on the right. Mary. The one in the middle. Doe (in disgust). Where's the bone-head who just said, " Girls were clever " ? (Dick and Harry lay Conny, who is still asleep, by wall l.) I guess we'll have to settle this thing ourself. (To girls.) If you ladies will permit these gentlemen to occupy that sofa (Girls rise and go tip c.) Thank you. (To boys.) Now if you gentlemen will occupy that sofa? (Tom, Dick, and Harry cross to sofa and sit.) Thank you. (Doe sits r. of table, facing them.) Now we'll see if you're all here. (Takes out paper he has written formerly. Reads.) Constantine Pueblo Jones. (Boys rise.) Boys. Present. Doe (counting them). One, two, three. Yes. Sit down. (Boys sit down.) Now, which of you is the right son? (All three stand up.) Sit down. (They obey.) Number one, what's your reason for coming home and claiming your rights? Harry. I want that hundred a week. Doe. Number two, what's your reason? Dick. Same reason. Doe. Number three, what's yours? Tom. Same reason. Doe. Which one of you loves Mr. Jones? (Pause.) Which one of you loves Mr. Jones? (Pause.) Are you deaf? (Boys shake their heads.) Number three, where do you come from? CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 65 Tom. China. Doe. Number two, where do you come from? Dick. Malay Peninsula. Doe. Number one ? Harry. Borneo. Doe. Number three, what's your business? Tom. I'm a poem. Doe. Number two, what's yours? Dick. Me-e? Zee beezness? Doe. Yes. Haven't you got any ? Dick. Egscuse me. I no talk ver' fast. (Eases his collar.) I eez so hungry. Doe. Better go into some food business. You can eat everything and make a profit besides. Dick. As a matter o' fac' — I eez in ze cracker busi- ness. Doe. That's a safe business. Dick. Wee. Eet eez a safe cracker. Doe. Safe-cracker, eh ? I might have known it. Dick. No, no ! you mistake ! Doe. Number one, what's yours ? Harry. I'm a bull-puncher. Doe (to Helen). Tell the crockery lady to come here. (Helen exits r.) Conny (raising himself a little). Tell her to leave her crockery out there. (Conny drops back. Enter Mrs. Hucksley, Helen, Whis., Walter and Jones. Mrs. H. comes to c. Jones comes to back of sofa.) Doe. Mrs. Hucksley, do you know these gentlemen ? Mrs. H. Heavens, no ! Doe. Look closely, ma'am. Are you sure ? (Mrs. H. looks closely at boys.) Mrs. H. Why, they do look something like the three criminals who came to my restaurant for breakfast. Harry. Restaurant ! Bah ! Bird feeder ! 66 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Doe (jumping up). Great Scott! These aren't the three fellows who've been kicking up a rumpus in every town between here and New York, are they? Whis. That's just who they are. Doe (triumphantly, folding his arms). Well! Well!! Well!!! (At each ''weir' the boys slump down.) I guess we won't spend much time figuring out which is the right son. (Puts thumbs in arm holes of vest.) Furthermore I guess we've got you fellows just about where we want you. However, I believe in being fair — so before I have you arrested I'll give you one more chance — in case one of you happens to be Mr. Jones' son. You must know among yourselves which is the right one, so I'll let you settle it. In the meantime the rest of us will saunter down to the road and back. And when we get back, it's either who's the son or jail for the three of you! Am I clear? (Boys nod.) Whiskey, you and Dodge stay here. Come on, everybody. (Exits jauntily l., followed by Mrs. H., Jones, Wil- liam, and the girls. The boys do not move but sit staring ahead of them. Whis. crosses to R., sits on table, takes newspaper from his pocket, and begins to read. Dodge comes down and looks over his shoulder. ) Dodge. Hello! what's this? (Takes paper from Whis. and begins to read intently.) So! This is where this "Jones' son " and "hundred dollars a week" stuff comes from. I didn't know anything about this. (The detectives both read article. Pause.) Harry (sitting up). Well, what do you make of it? Dick (after a pause, sitting up). It's our finish. He's going to have us arrested for usurping the son's rights. Wake up, Tom. Tom (sitting up). I wish I was dead. (Slumps down again.) Dick. So do I. ^*> CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 67 (Slumps down. Harry slumps down.) Tom. What time is it ? Harry (looking at watch). Quarter of twelve. (They remain as before.) Dodge. That's pretty nice. I wish I was the son. Whis. I'd pity Jones if you were. Dick. Fellows, we may as well not all go to jail. Let's unite and admit one of us to be the son. Harry. Which one? Dick. Well, Tom. Well? Harry. Well. (Remain as before. The others are heard approach- ing. They enter through the window, headed by Doe.) Doe (a). Come, now, who's the son? Harry (rising). I cannot tell a lie. It is he. (Points to Dick.) Dick (rising and heaving a sigh). Unfortunately, I am not. Here is the real son. (Points to Tom.) Tom (rising). My friends, I cannot accept this sacri- fice. There is the real son. (Points to Harry.) Doe. Say, now listen! If Mr. Jones' son is present, will he kindlv step out here so we can see him ! (Points to floor at c) Dodge (taking position designated) . I am here! Jones (l. a). Are you my son? Dodge. It is I ! I am he ! Whis. Father! He lies! / am Constantine! Jones. You are Constantine? Conny (sitting up). Who calls Constantine? Doe. Who's that? (Conny stands up.) 68 CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES Tom. That, Mr. Jones, is your real son, Jones. Is it true? HaTry. J Yes, sir, it is true. Harry. We will no longer keep him from his lawful rights. He is your son. Doe (to Conny). Come here. (Conny comes to c.) What is your name? Conny. It's rather a queer name— all except the last. I admit the last name is very common. Jones. What is it ? Conny. My name is Constantine Pueblo Smith. Jones. Smith! Heavens! he's not my son. Doe. Then, who the deuce is? Jones. I think this has gone far enough. I may as well tell you that I haven't any son. All. Haven't any son? Jones. No, the whole thing's a joke. I always had a lot of faith in human nature and I made a bet with a friend of mine that if I advertised for a son nobody'd show up. As you see I've lost my bet. The world's so full of crooks that you can't draw a straight line between two points. Whis. (a). May I ask who it was you bet with? Jones. Perhaps you know him. He's a big theatre manager in New York. His name's Stanley Walsh. Boys. Stanley Walsh ! Tom. He's the fellow we made our bet with ! Whis. Yes. It isn't quite twelve yet, but I don't mind telling you that I'm Stanley Walsh. (Pulls off his whiskers.) Dick. Walsh himself ! Jones. Why, hello, old fellow. I guess you win that bet. (They shake hands.) However, I'm a good loser. Whis. You'll forgive my friends here. They're the Westhaver boys from New York. (The boys take off their disguises.) They wouldn't have tried this thing if they hadn't been desperate. You see, they'd bet me that they could get a sixty dollar a week position before noon CONSTANTINE PUEBLO JONES 69 to-day. They've lost and now they've got to sign a three year contract with me. Jones. Oh, I say ! That's hard luck. Whis. I can't help that. I need 'em bad. Jones. You say it's not twelve yet? (To boys.) Look here, boys — I'll give you sixty dollar a week jobs right now. (Goes to them and speaks aside to them.) But only for one week. You stay around here and look after the girls. Harry. Mr. Jones ! Tom. Hurrah! (The boys crowd around him and shake his hands.) Dick. That's great ! (Door-bell rings. William exits l. The boys find their respective girls. Animated conversation en- sues. Each couple finds the place too crowded and exits.) Jones. Walsh, I guess I paid you back, you old rogue. Whis. I always was unlucky. Dodge (to Conny). You and I are a couple of goats. Let's go soak our heads. Doe. I'm with you. Mrs. H. So am I. (All, except Jones and Whis., exit through window. Enter William l. ) William. Gentleman to see you, Mr. Jones. Jones. Who is he? William. Says his name is Constantine Pueblo Jones. Jones. Strangle him. William. Yes, sir. [Exits l. CURTAIN LINE BUSY A Comedy in Two Acts By Gladys Ruth Bridgham Five male, nineteen female characters, mostly very young people. Scene, an easy interior ; costumes, modern. Plays an hour and a half. Written for high school performance and admirably suited for this pur- pose. Lorraine Fenwick is conducting a school for girls under the terms of an uncle's will to demonstrate her right to a big legacy left her under conditions. Well, just as some burglars are looting a near-by house, some of her girls, seeing the place open, enter and get mixed up in the trouble. A "jay" detective thoroughly mixes up the beans thus spilled, and an exciting maze of circumstances follows that is full of surprises and fun. A capital piece, well recommended. Price, 27 cents CHARACTERS Janice Reece, an instructor. Snowball, the maid. Jeremiah Stokes, the constable. Lorraine Fenwick. Mrs. Olive Gleason-Hamilton Marion Ada Flossie Stella j- the juniors. Agnes Phyllis Marie Magnolia, her daughter. Roscoe Linden. Parker Hamilton. Jack Huntley. Richard Fenwick. Trixie Tree, an actress. Jean Morris Anita Shirley Helen Burns . the Muriel Collins seniors. Frances Rose Gladys Symons SWIMMIN' POOLS A Romance in One Act For Male Characters Only By Belford Forrest Five male characters. Scenery, a dark stage ; unimportant. Costumes, modern. Plays twenty minutes. " The Kid " of a trio of hobos en- counters the turning point in his life in the person of 1 young woman and parts with his mates in a scene of great dramatic interest. A high class play for male characters uniting much humor with genuine sentiment. Strongly recommended. Price, 27 cents THE HAPPY DAY A Farce in One Act By Octavia Roberts Seven female characters. Scene, an interior ; costumes, wxlern. Plays half an hour. Sybil Marlowe, a bride, worried to death by the burden of preparation for a fashionable wedding and on the eve of a quarrel with her fiance over the strenuous entertainments of her friends, cuts thr knot when an impossible country cousin turns up with a demand to serve as bridesmaid, and gets married on the quiet. Very bright and live\j and Strongly recommended. Price, 16 cents HONEYMOON FLATS A Comedy in Two Acts By Hallie Hale Hassey and Gladys Ruth Bridgham Six males, eight females. Scenery, a single interior; costumes, modern. Plays an hour and a quarter. Babies have come to all the tenants of ** Honeymoon Flats," where no babies are allowed, when all of a sudden the landlord threatens a visit. Mrs. Murphy, the janitor's wife, agrees to take care of the little offenders until he has gone, but a reporter gets wind of Mrs. Murphy's " quadruplets " and prints a story about them, and the beans are spilled. Fast and furious fun that can be strongly recommended. A screaming farce. Price t 25 cents CHARACTERS Roscoe Montford, owner of Honeymoon Flats. Mike Murphy, the janitor. Harry Brown, a tenant. John Gleason, an insurance agent. Tom Carson, reporter on "Boston American** McCarthy, police officer. Mrs. Montford, the landlord's wife, Mrs. Murphy, the janitor s wife. Rosie Murphy, their little girl, Mrs. Brown ] Mrs. Gray . . Mrs. Jones \ ienants - Mrs. Smith J Helen Dearborne, Mrs. Gray's sister. LITTLE MISS AMERICA And The Happy Children A Patriotic Play in One Act By Mary Moncure Parker 7'wenty four children, boys and girls, ad libitum. Costumes or no costumes, as convenient or desired ; scene, a platform only or a regular schoolroom setting, as preferred. Plays forty minutes. A jingle history of the United States attractively arranged in play form. A sugar-coated presentation of American history sure to interest both its juvenile players and its audience. Presents a complete summary of the history of the United States in ingenious dramatization. Strongly recommended. Price t 23 cents WOMEN IN WAR A Patriotic Entertainment in One Act By Esther Godshaw Eleven females. Costumes historical ; scene, the usual arrangement for tableaux. Plays twenty minutes. Tableaux representing the various women of history who have been prominent in the wars of the world, ac- companied by a descriptive reading developing every possible patriotic aspect of this fruitful theme. An extremely pretty and timely entertain- ment, suitable for almost any occasion. Well recommended. Price t fj cents THE ELOPEMENT OF ELLEN A Farce Comedy in Three Acts by Marie J. Warren. Four males, three females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior and one exte- rior. Plays an hour and a half. A bright and ingenious little play, ad mirably suited for amateur acting. Written for and originally produced by Wellesley College girls. Strongly recommended. Price, 25 cents A VIRGINIA HEROINE A Comedy in Three Acts by Susie G. McGlone. Eleven female char acters. Scenery, easy ; costumes, modern. Plays one hour and forty-five minutes. Irish and Negro comedy parts, and two character parts; most of the characters young. A very easy and interesting play for girls, wtl). suited for school performance. Romantic interest with lots of comedy. Price, 23 cents OUR CHURCH FAIR A Farcical Entertainment in Two Acts by Jessie A. Kelley. Twelve females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, unimportant. Plays an hour and a quarter. A humorous picture of the planning of the annual church fair Dy the ladies of the sewing circle. Full of local hits and general human nature, and a sure laugh-producer in any community. Can be reconv mended. Price, 23 cents ALL CHARLEY'S FAULT A Farce in Two Acts by Anthony E. Wills. Six males, three females. Scenery, an easy interior ; costumes, modern. Plays two hours. A very lively and laughable piece, full of action and admirably adapted for ama- teur performance. Dutch and Negro comedy characters. Plays very rapidly with lots of incident and not a dull moment. Strongly recom mended. Price, ij cents HOW THE STORY GREW An Entertainment for Women's Clubs in One Act by O. W. Gleason. Eight female characters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, unimportant; ma} be given on a platform without any. Plays forty-five minutes. A very easy and amusing little piece, full of human nature and hitting off a well- known peculiarity of almost any community. Written for middle-aged women, and a sure hit with the audience. Price, ij cents THE COUNTRY DOCTOR A Comedy Drama in Four Acts by Arthur Lewis Tubbs. Six males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays two hours Easy to stage and full of interest. The female parts are the stronger, being exceptionally good. Negro and " hayseed " comedy parts. A very strong dramatic piece. Can be recommended. Price t 25 cents A COUPLE OF MILLION An American Comedy in Four Acts By Walter Ben Hare Author of " Professor Pcpp," " Much Ado About Betty,** " The Hoodoo," " The Dutch Detective," etc, Six males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interior* and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Royalty, ten dollars ($10.00) for each performance. A more ambitious play by this popular author in the same successful vein as his previous offerings. Bemis Bennington is left two million dollars by his uncle on condition that he shall live for one year in a town of less than five thousand inhabitants and during that period marry and earn without other assistance than his own industry and ability the sum of five thousand dollars. Failing to accomplish this the money goes to one Professor Noah Jabb. This is done despite the energetic opposition of Jabb, who puts up a very interesting fight. A capital play that can be strongly recommended. Plenty of good comedy and a great variety of good parts, full of opportunity. Price, 23 cents CHARACTERS Bemis Bennington. Fay Fairbanks. Hon. Jeremy Wise. Mrs. Clarice Codrtenay, James Patrick Burns, "Stubby." Genevieve McGully. 'Professor Noah Jabb. Sammie Bell Porter, Beverly Loman. Pink. Squire Piper. Several Hill- Billies, SYNOPSIS Act I. — The law office of Hon. Jeremy Wise, New York City. A morning in July. Act II. — The exterior of the court-house, Opaloopa, Alabama. An afternoon in October. Act III. — Same as Act II. The next afternoon. Act IV. — Mrs. Courtenay's sitting-room, Opaloopa, Alabama^ A night in April. ISOSCELES A Play in One Act By Walter Ben Hare Two male, one female characters. Costumes, modern ; scene, an vat terior. Plays twenty minutes. Royalty $2.50 for each performance. An admirable little travesty of the conventional emotional recipe calling for husband, wife and lover. Played in the proper spirit of burlesque it is howlingly furmv. Strongly recommended for the semi-professional uses of schools of acting. A capital bit for a benefit or exhibition programme, Bering a decided novelty. Price % 23 tents ALLISON MAKES HAY A Comedy in Three Acts By Theresa Helburn Seven men, seven women. Scenery, three interiors ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. Royalty, #15.00 a performance. Originally pro- duced at The Belmont Theatre, New York, under the title, " Crops and croppers." Allison, patriotically retiring to the country as a war economy, cultivates the soil and raises, among other things, a husband. A bright and graceful little comedy wonderfully full of charm both in the character of Allison and in the treatment of her little love affair, which is the theme of the piece. The twin of " Cousin Kate " in its simple plan and enormous interest and appeal. Strongly recommended to all amateur organizations for its grace, its perfect taste, its ease of productions and its effectiveness. Price, 55 cents CHARACTERS (In the order of their appearance) Margot Marbrook, 19, her sister. Janey Wimpole, 19, her sister s friend. Annie, her maid. Peter Weston, 53, almost her guardian. Allison Marbrook, 23, herself. Roy Parcher, 24, her soldier. Stetson, her first 7-ecruit. Jean, 27, her hired man. Mrs. Bradley, 35, her last resort. Dr. Truesdale, 34, her unsuspected ally, Stephen Marbrook, 29, her brother. Mrs. Spencer, 51, \ , . , , Mrs. Pray, 32. \ ^ neighbors. Pete Cobb, her victim. SYNOPSIS Act I. — Her house in New York. Act II. — Her farm. Act III. — Her tenant house. THE COPPER POT A Play in Two Scenes By Frances Healey Eight men, five women. Scene, an Oriental street ; costumes, eastern. Plays half an hour. Royalty, #5.00 a performance. Abdallah, the Generous, borrows of Rasid, the Avaricious, his copper pot for the enter- tainment of his guests and by a piece of Oriental ingenuity becomes its possessor. A most laughable and ingenious picture of eastern life, cleverly written and lending itself to production either under conditions of great characteristic elaboration or of suggestive simplicity. To be classed with " The Man Who Married a Dumb Wife." Strongly recommended to Little Theatres in particular and to amateurs in general. Price^ 2J cents Members of The Old Maids Union , W. W. A. M. t No. 23. TWELVE OLD MAIDS An Entertainment in One Act By Walter Ben Hare Fifteen ladies and one little boy. Costumes, eccentric ; scenery, not necessary; a platform with screens will do. Plays about an hour. A novel bit of mere fun for older women, but possible for any age, amiably and tactfully playing variations on an old subject of undying popularity. The Mystic Orann, the invention of Mme. Zikeller, the fortune-teller, offers vast possibilities of fun in the right hands, and Madame's wonderful beauty lotion, " Everbloom," produces side-splitting results. Recom- mended as a sure hit. Price, 25 cents CHARACTERS Mrs. Beamer, a schemer. Takes summer boarders. Liza Pearl, her hired girl. Not so slow. Madam Zikeller, a fortune-teller. After the coin. Miss Lizzie Lidy, awfully tidy. Selina Zook, an A 1 cook. Matilda Finn, who s rather thin. Jemima Routt, a little stout. Ethel McWade, a poetical maid. Mary Ann Fites, who wants her rights. Manda M enter, from Punkin Center. Miss Kate O'Foss, who loves to boss. Lovetta McCann, who wants a man. Cerinthy Fling, does nothing but sing. Lucindy Toots, who elocutes. Eliza Neff, just slightly deaf The Mystic Orann, a wooden man. Who comes to life. WHY, JESSICA ! A Comedy in One Act By Annie R. Knowlton One male, nine females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, an interior. Plays forty minutes. Mr. Barker plots to cure his wife and her friends of their fondness for " Bridge " and enlists the services of Jessica, his niece, in this cause. Jessica contrives some startling disappearances of jewelry and other stakes of the game, and casts dark suspicion in all directions, finally bringing her terrified victims into the shadow of the Police Court. Funny, thrilling and salutary ; a novelty in this sort of play. Recom- mended for women's clubs. Price, 2j cents A LADY TO CALL A Comedy in One Act By Carl W. Pierce Three females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, an interior. Plays twenty minutes. Ann Bray and her sister Eliza are very anxious to get in with Mrs. Pratt, a city " society " woman who has just taken a fine house near the village, and when an automobile that they suppose to be hers breaks down at their door, they outdo themselves in entertaining her only to find that their temporary guest is Madame Zoretta, the Snake Charmer, from the circus in the next town. Strongly recommended. J Vice, 1 j cents ABOARD A SLOW TRAIN IN M1ZZOURY A Farcical Entertainment in Three Acts By Walter Ben Hare Eight males, fourteen females and supers. Scene, the interior of a passenger car; costumes, modern and eccentric. Plays a full evening. No royalty. Throughout this riot of fun the story of pretty Pauline Hetty's elopement with the villain of the piece constantly strives to emerge, but it is always snowed under by some iunny incident or sidesplitting •' wheeze " ; and after all nobody cares much, for when you ai-e laugh- ing all the time it does not much matter what happens. The train gets from Eczema to the town you are playing in somehow after two hours and a hah of solid fun, and that is all you care about. A big hit ; all the parts good ; strongly recommended for laughing purposes only. Price ; 27 cents WHO IS WHO Clarence Angelcake, the "cullud" porter. Handsome Harry Squnk, the conductor, a hero from the feet up. Sir Gilbert Darkwood, a human wolf with a black mustache. Moe Slibitsky, who sells you almost for nothing. Lengthy Tim Tuckins, a country sport, by heck I Little Mr. Doohunker, the constabule of Slab side Comers. Napoleon Doohunker, aged 13 months. Romeo Black, a city blossom. College Boys. Pretty Pauline Petty, the persecuted heroine. Miss Tessie Etta Codfish, looking for a man. Valeska Vamp, a mysterious mystery. Sis Hopkins, keep your eye 071 Sis. Aunt Venus Hopkins, with the internal dyspepsy. Big Mis' Doohunker, /art as cute as possible. Miss Molecule, a lady teacher. Mrs. Talcum, a singer in the choir. Cecelia Talcum, mamma s precious. Marjorxe Mayflower, from New England. Dixie Cotton, from the Sunny South. Betty Blizzard, from up Dakota way. Goldie Gates, a California blosso?n. Nancy Brown, from New York town. Grips, Boxes, Boys, Gals, etc* THEODORE, JR. A Play in One Act By Sallie Shute Se en females and a child. Costumes, modern ; scene, an easy in- terior- Plays twenty-five minutes. To six lively young girls in the Adamless Eden of a country village comes the rumor of an expected young man — a millionaire at that. All sorts of plans are laid, great ex- pectations are formed, and jealousies engendered, with a most exciting but wholly unexpected result. A clever bit of fooling sure to please. Price, 27 cents THE HOUSE IN LAUREL LANE A Comedy in Two Acts By Gladys Ruth Bridgham Six female characters. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays an hour and a quarter. No royalty demanded. Anice and Wil- ifred two sophomores, are elected to membership in the " Red Hearts," the swell secret society of Lake View Seminary, and are put through a thrilling initiatory ceremony, which they do not recognize as such until it is all over, to test their pluck and desirability. One of the most ingen- iously interesting and exciting plays for all ladies that we have ever pub- lished and is strongly recommended. All the parts are good and effective. Price t 2j cents CHARACTERS Josephine Arnold "j Irene Humphries I 7 , Claudia Wainwright j J unwrs > Marguerite Hastings J Anice Wainwright } c , , Wilifred Blake } Sophomores. SYNOPSIS Act I. — Josephine and Irene's room — Lake View Seminary. An afternoon in May. Act II. — The house in Laurel Lane — evening of the same day. I GRANT YOU THREE WISHES A Fantasy in One Act By Gladys Ruth Bridgham Can be played by any number of girls from four to fourteen ; many of the parts are small and can easily be doubled. Four scenes are called for but by the use of screens the play may be carried through with a single setting. Plays forty minutes. Elaine, just out of college and facing the world, longs for the traditional three wishes to give her a start, but her grandmother tells her that she in her time had this choice of three careers, and the play shows in a series of scenes how they befell. A fascinating idea cleverly and vividly developed in action. Recommended for schools. Price, 27 cents MISS TODD'S VAMPIRE A Comedy in One Act By Sallie Shute One male, four female characters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, an easy interior. Plays thirty minutes. Sue Makely comes precious near to losing one of the best young men that ever was in the person of Dan Morehouse, but Miss Todd finds a way to circumvent the " vampire " and block her little game. A very pretty, " human " little play that can be strongly recommended. Price, 27 cents THE SUBMARINE SHELL A War Play in Four Acts By Mansfield Scott Seven males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays two hours. Royalty for amateur performance #10.00 for one, $15.00 for two performances. Inspector Malcome Steele, of the U. S. Secret Service, devotes himself in this thrilling play to unravelling thd German plots that surround Prof. Middlebrook's submarine shell that is to bring the downfall of the Hun. The battle between his wits and those of " Tom Cloff," the German secret agent, is of absorbing interest. An easy and effective thriller that can be recommended for school performance. Price, 25 cents CHARACTERS Hans Kraft, alias James Detective Albert Bradbury. Mc Grady. Inspector Malcome Steele. Otto Herman, alias William. " Tom Cloff." Mr. Warren Middlebrook. Mrs. Middlebrook. Monsieur Charles LeClair. Eleanor Middlebrook. Professor Henry Wester- Margaret Linden. berg. Delia. SYNOPSIS Act I. The living-room. August 1 1 , after dinner. Act II. Same as Act I. August 12, 1 : 30 p. m. Act III. The private laboratory. That evening, 7 :3a Act IV. Same as Act III. Later, 10 p. m. THE AMERICAN IDEA A Sketch in One Act By Lily Carthew Three males, two females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, an interior. Plays twenty minutes. Royalty for amateur performance $5.00. Mignon Goldman, following the American Idea, throws off the parental yoke and marries the man of her choice and not the choice of her parents. She brings home for the parental blessing John Kelly. Abe, her father, is disconsolate at this prospect until he sees John and recognizes in him Yan Kele Operchinsky, rechristened in accordance with "The American Idea." Originally produced at The Peabody Playhouse, Boston. Strongly recommended. Price, 25 cents. THE CROWNING OF COLUMBIA A Patriotic Fantasy in One Act By Kathrine F. Carlyon Twenty-five boys and twenty-four girls. Costumes, modern and picturesque. Nothing required in the way of scenery but a platform. Plays half an hour or less. Columbia is approached by the Foresters, the Farmers, the Miners, the Pleasure Seekers, the Ammunition Workers and even the Red Cross Workers, all asking her to be their Queen, but it is only when the Soldiers and the Red Cross Nurses come, asking nothing and giving all, that she yields. Easy, pretty, timely, and strongly recon> mended. Introduces music. Price, #3 cent* THE HURDY-HURDY GIRL A Comedy in Three Acts By Gladys Ruth Bridgham Nine males, nine females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior and one exterior. Plays two hours. A light, breezy piece of the musical comedy kind, introducing music and dancing or not, as may be desired. Carlotta Vernon is persuaded to disguise herself at a garden party as a " Hurdy-Gurdy Girl " and gets mixed up with the daughter of a hurdy- gurdy man, Antonio, with whom the son of the host has become involved in college. The pursuit of damaging letters resulting from this cor- respondence and Antonio's private speculations with the host's personal property provide an amusing tangle. A bright, sparkling, pretty and picturesque play, giving uniformly good parts to an equal number of boys and girls of the high-school and college age. Can be recommended. Price y 25 cents CHARACTERS {As presented by the Senior Class of the Belfast, Maine t High School, in February, igi8. ) Simon Luggate. Theodore Luggate, his son. Marion Luggate, his daughter. Clarissa Luggate, his sister. Carlotta Vernon, his niece. Susie, his maid. Antonio Columbus, the Hurdy-Gurdy Man* Jim Stearnes Algernon Clancy Jack Grover Billy Mason Tom Murry Aristotle Lutzon Mary Dayton Helen Dayton Dolly Stearnes Josie Hopkins Maisie Deane Theodore s college chums The Bachelor Girls FINDING THE MAYFLOWERS A Puritan Play for Children in One Act By Blanche Proctor Fisher One male, eight females. Costumes of the period ; seen try, an in- terior. Plays twenty-five minutes. Dame Hopkins promises a sixpence to the girl who shall first hand her a bunch of mayflovvers, tl a existence of which in the new land to which the pilgrims have con, » is merely guessed. All the sisters save Faith Allerton disobey their mo-.her and go in search of the new flower, but to her Wolomona, an Indian girl, brings the coveted posies and she wins the prize. A pretty play teaching a valuable lesson in a pretty way. Strongly recommended. Price, /j cents &**- lA4 Plays and Novelties That Have Been " Winners " The Americana Anita's Trial Art Clubs are Trumps Behind the Scenes The Camp Fire Girls A Case for Sherlock Holmes The Farmerette Getting the Range Her First Assignment Hltty's Service Flag Joint Owners in Spain A King's Daughter The Knitting Club Meet? A Lady to Call Leave it to Polly The Minute Man Miss Fearless & Co. A Modern Cinderella Moth- Balls Rebecca's Triumph The Thirteenth Star Twelve Old Maids An Awkward Squad The Blow Up of Algernon Blow The Boy Scouts A Close Shave The First National Boot A Half » Back's Interference His Father's Son The Man With the Nose On the Quiet The People's Money A Regular Rah ! Rah ! Boy A Regular Scream Schmerecase in School The Scoutmaster The Tramps' Convention The Turn in the Road Wanted— A Pitcher What They Did for Jenkins Aunt Jerusha's Quilting Party The District School at Blueberry Corners The Emigrants' Party Miss Prim's Kindergarten A Pageant of History The Revel of the Year Scenes in the Union Depot Taking the Census in Bingville The Village Post-Office Women in War Females Time II 1% hrs. 8 8 20 6 7 10 14 8 12 11 14 11 9 10 17 9 11 14 4 12 24 12 12 >5 10 I 10 11 4 11 9 3 11 13 10 16 3 16 9 15 17 % *X » 1% X 2 Any number 2 1# 2 14 8 20 Price 25c 25C 25C 25C 25 c 25c 25c 25 c I5C 25C 25c 25 c 25C I5C 25C 25c 25C 25c 25C 25c 25c 25 c l S* ! 5c 25c '?5c 25c ! 5 C 25c 25c 25c 25c J 5 C 25c 25 c J 5 C 15c 25c 25 c 25c 25c 25 c 25c 15c 25c 25c 25c 15c Royalty Free #5.00 Free BAKER, '.5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass* *" A A A A A A A A A A A A ■» ;", LIBRARY OF CONGRESS The Air Spy Bachelor Hall The College Chap The Colonel's Maid Daddy The Deacon's Second Wife The District Attorney The Dutch Detective An Easy Mark The Elopement of Ellen Engaged by Wednesday The Farmerette For One Night Only Hamilton Higbee of Harvard Hitty's Service Flag The Hoodoo The Hurdy Gurdy Girl Katy Did Let's Get Married London Assurance Lost a Chaperon The Man from Brandon The Man Who Went The Man Without a Country Master Pierre Patella Me and Otis The Minute Man Mose Mr. Bob Mrs. Briggs of the Poultry Yard Nathan Hale Nephew or Uncle Professor Pepp A Regiment of Two The Revenge of Sharl-Hot-So The Rivals The Romancers The Rose and the Ring Sally Lunn The School for Scandal She Stoops to Conquer Step Lively The Submarine Shell The Thirteenth Star The Time of His Life Tommy's Wife The Twig of Thorn 3 4 *5 8 8 6 3 9 il 3 12 «5 4 7 9 8 5 3 9 4 3 5 1 4 13 10 4 7 4 3 8 4 4 5 1 5 4 4 4 10 4 9 3 5 7 i# 3 a* 2 2 2 2 2 # 2 25c 25c 25c 25c 25c 25c 25c 15c 25c 25c 25c 50c 15c 25c 25c 25c 25c 50c *5c 25c 'Sc 25c 25c 50c iSc 25c 15c J5c 25c 50c 25 c 25c 25c J 5c '5c 25c 25c 25c '5C 15c 25c 25c 25 c 25c 25c 60c Special Free Special Free #10.00 Free Special Free M&m* For " special " royalties, see catalogue descriptions for detailed information. BAKER, 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, .Mass. f^fJI