Twice A Week Plain Dealer

THESPIAN FINANCIERS.

How They Manage to Put Companies on the Road.

Vain Women Are the Favorite Victims of Professional Theatrical Bunko Steerers-The Modus Operandi Fully Explained.

[Special New York Letter.]

At about this time of year the "Hard Boiled Egg" farce comedy company disbands and its members toil painfully homeward, counting railway ties as they go. The grotesque name of this unfortunate organization of alleged Thespians is typical in the theatrical profession. Its origin is perfectly logical-as any barnstormer will admit who has dined, supped and breakfasted at railway lunch counters throughout a season of "one night stands."

The Hard Boiled Egg Farce Comedy company was conceived in malice, born in desperation, had a brief but ignominious career and met a well-merited fate. It was, of course, the creation of the typical Hard Boiled Egg manager, who opened his campaign by spending his last dollar to insure the insertion of the following advertisement in an influential daily newspaper:

WANTED-By an experienced theatrical manager, leading lady for comedy company. Must have talent and ambition, and $350 in cash. Experience not necessary.

The manager, having inserted this advertisement, was perfectly easy in his mind. His slumbers that night were calm and refreshing. After a late breakfast on the following morning he gave the hotel barber a pass for two, good for that evening's performance by a friendly Hard Boiled Egg company not yet disbanded, in return for which the barber trimmed his hair, curled his mustache and ironed his silk hat till it shone with all the radiance of prosperity. The barber also contributed a cigar, which the manager lighted, and walked in a lordly manner across the street to the office of a cheap dramatic agency, where he knew by experience that one or more victims of his cunningly worded advertisement would be anxiously awaiting his arrival.

There were three of them. The moment the manager saw them he knew perfectly well that each had $350 in her pocket, and was in mortal terror lest one of the others would win the privilege of contributing the same. How did the manager know this? Because there was no mistaking the customary vocation of the applicants. They were palpably servant girls. The manager knew that stage-struck servant girls always have $350 saved up against the day when their great opportunity would arrive. He strode haughtily into an inner office and closed the door behind him. Then he slapped his thigh and chuckled:

"What luck! Three in a bunch, Three times $350 is $1,050-enough to put out three companies in The Bunko Steerer.' No, on second thought, here is an excellent scheme for one company with capital to burn."

Then the manager rang a bell, which was instantly answered by an impudent-faced office boy, who was told with a wink to "trot 'em in one at a time." There was a sound of wrangling without, and presently there entered the best looking of the trio of applicants, the office boy taking pains to close the door, much to the disgust of the other two. The manager was very busy writing:

"Well?" he said, brusquely, without looking up.

"The advertisement, sir," began the embarrassed applicant, "in this morning's paper"

"Really, my dear madam, you will have to be more explicit," interrupted the manager, still without looking up; "you see how busy I am."

"It was about a leading lady, sir"

"Ah, yes. Very sorry, but the position is filled."

"Sure, I was the first one here, sir"

The girl's voice was full of such intense disappointment that the manager knew he could proceed with confidence.

"Oh," he interrupted again, this time wheeling around in his chair and giving the applicant a searching glance, "you refer to the comedy company ad: I declare I had forgotten all about it. You see I have been devoting all my thoughts to my tragedy company. Really, you are very fortunate, as I shall give the comedy company my personal attention. What is your name?"

"Molly O'Brien, sir."

"It won't do. Let me see. Yes- Katherine Everham, that is better unless you have selected your own stage name?"

Molly O'Brien, radiant with pleasure at this evidence of her selection for the position of leading lady, said that the name was quite satisfactory to her, and began fumbling with her pocketbook.

The manager was already writing a receipt which stipulated that Molly O'Brien, engaged as leading lady of the Bunko Steerer Comedy company at a salary of $40 per week, was thereby assigned a one-quarter interest in the aforesaid company for the sum of $350 in cash, the receipt of which was thereby acknowledged. Having completed the document the manager handed it to his willing victim and asked whether it was perfectly satisfactory. It was so entirely satisfactory that Molly forthwith handed over the $350, whereupon the manager signed Molly's combination contract and receipt, gave it back to her, rose from his chair, shook her warmly by the hand and said:

"Allow me to congratulate you. This is an opportunity of a lifetime. You think it strange, perhaps, that I have not tested your ability before completing the arrangement? You forget my long experience. My dear young lady I knew by the sound of your step as you entered that you were born to tread the boards. Call to-morrow for your part and a description of your costumes, and be prepared to begin rehearsals a week from to-day. Au revoir, and be careful of your health."

Whereupon Molly O'Brien departed, walking on air, and the army of Hard Boiled Egg leading ladies had a fresh recruit.

The manager placed Molly O'Brien's crisp greenbacks in his vest pocket and rang the bell on his desk. The response was another altercation, the entrance of the second applicant and closing the door as before.

In less than five minutes applicant number two left the manager's office with beaming countenance, and in place of the greenbacks just transferred from her purse to that of the manager's was a document admitting its holder to the ranks of Hard Boiled Egg soubrettes.

In like manner applicant number three departed to increase the contingent of Hard Boiled Egg ingenues, the manager having satisfied her that the position of ingenue was really finer than that of leading lady without half its responsibility.

Meanwhile there had been anxiously awaiting these results in an adjoining room a cluster of satellites without which no Hard Boiled Egg manager is worthy the name. There was the Hard Boiled Egg leading man, the Hard Boiled Egg villain, the Hard Boiled Egg heavy, the Hard Boiled Egg comedian, the Hard Boiled Egg stage manager, the Hard Boiled Egg agent and half a dozen Hard Boiled Egg young blonde general utility women. Applicant number three had barely closed the outer door behind her, when this host swarmed in upon the manager, overwhelming him with demands for something on account of salaries long past due. Without the support of these satellites the Hard Boiled Egg manager would never be able to fulfill his destiny. It is, therefore, not generosity, but expediency, that causes him to part with a considerable share of his newly-acquired capital on the spot, and for two or three days thereafter this Hard Boiled Egg aggregation undergoes a general furbishing up.

After two weeks of daily rehearsals the inexperienced capitalistic element becomes as smoothly joined to the hardened satellite contingent as is to be expected under the circumstances, and "The Bunko Steerer" is taken out to a neighboring very small town inhabited by exceptionally benighted beings to be tried "on the dog." The audience is not especially enthusiastic, but on the whole the manager, whose expectations were not exaggerated, is satisfied. His trio of recruits have learned to do approximately as they are told by the discreet stage manager, and as that worthy has invariably told them to do those things that are calculated to prove least offensive to the audience leaving the more experienced members of the company to furnish a sufficient amount of positive qualities to convey the general idea of a stage performance of some kind-it is deemed probable that the company will escape any serious disaster at the hands of the public.

While the rehearsals were in progress the manager had booked a route of small towns of the size where one theatrical entertainment exhausts the amusement appropriation for an entire week-and the agent had gone on ahead securing elaborate puffs in the newspapers and covering dead walls with inspiring posters. The season of "The Bunko Steerer" is therefore duly opened, and as there still remain $200 or $300 of capital in the manager's pocket the future seems promising.

How it happened that the members of this Hard Boiled Egg Comedy company were obliged to walk home three months later-but that is another story.

CURTIS DUNHAM.