Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1916-05-27


Under the circumstances. Ntzhugh,
would certainly have been wiser never
to attempt such revival. Had
he cared to open his ears, he might
have heard warnings in plenty; for
woodfort's Theater had become a ira
dition in the professional evil one;
menace. in short, for the superstitious.
II is difficult to trace such beliefs to a
reasonable source. Few along Broad
way attempted il. But there fingered.
for instance, rumors about the stock
company that five years before had
opened Woodford's for winters cam
paign. If there was nothing more than
= gossip behind the theater's reputation.
why. people asked, had that company
within a week abandoned its lease and
forfeited it's guaranty? Why had it's
leading man on the final night rushed
from the stage, chatterng Historically.
sha ken as if by some experience beyond
human comprehension?
Such questions remained unanswered,
while other stories persisted, gathering
about black cat that had mysterious
~ made itself felt and heard, fitting
disturbingly into the somber history of
the place.
So Broadway avoided Woodford's and
feared tall except Arthur McHugh.
He was the logical exception. An ag-
gressive. ambitious Irishman, he had
fought his way from the headquarters
detective force to a mana geriaI throne,
er over many actors and actresses and
plays. He went his stubborn and sue
cessfui way, untrammeled by the Cos
sip of the profession. Therefore. when
he
Woodfords with revival of "Coward's
Fare" he rememh ered only that half a
century before the play had placed the
crown of dollars on the theater and had
made its old director Bertrand Wood
ford, famous. 1t did not bother him
that in the end the play had caused
Woodfords sudden and mysterious
death.
Richard Ouaile, chosen by McHugh to
make modern version of the play.
paused opposite the theater one fall
afternoon and appraised ii curiously.
Successful as a playwright and with a
plentiful income, Quaile was too thor
oughly interested in the world about
him to bather with distractions But
be had heard the gossip concerning
Noodford's; he wondered at McHugh' S
courage
The crum bling facade of the old house
turned his mind back forty years. He
could see the packed auditorium. and
to curtain rising on "Coward's Fare"
with Woodford in his greatest, his IA
yH- 10 role. He saw the actor limp on,
i'll. but TOO Jealous and vindictive to re-
sign his part to an understudy. He
watched the man struggle along with
the genius of which his disa biiity could
not entirely strip him.
But Il was on the last destructive mo-
nnent that QuaiIe's mind fingered un-
co"'forta bly,. He experienced, almost
with tensity of an actual spectator, the
ciamorous excitement that had filled
the house when Woodford at the
height of his most impassioned scene,
rad toppled to the stage, had lain still
d failed for the first time to respond
TO his audience.
Details scarcely heard. dimly remem-
hered from the mass of gossip. obtrud-
Nj themselves The black cat, he re-
called. Woodford's constant companion
off stage. had rushed from the wings
end c1rled itself on the motionless
body. It had fought and scratched I'll
-gerishly when anxious hands had tried
90 snatch it off. 1t had remained close
TO its master until his burial
Quaile shook his head. turned, and
went on to his appointment.
He found the atmosphere of the man.
ager's Office restorative
He stepped from the elevator into a
hallway crowded with the prosperous
and the unfortunate. leads, ingenues
character people, copedians-an seek
ers. and all forewarhed that in this
ONCE success would welcome only a
few.
He nodded at those he recopnizea
and passed into the reception-room
whose broader spaces were similarly
taxed He knew it was only ten years
since McHugh had left the detective
bureau. Now he sat, czar-like in a
secluded Office, forbidden to the many
privilege for the elect
Quaile noticed man who elbowed
his way through the crowd toward the
n L..
above the bobbing heads QuaiIe could
see his face. striking. nearly handsome
yet a trifie too pallid. Moreover, It reg
istered at this moment a vague un-
certainty.
Quaile nodded pleasantly in that d.
r"crion. and the man altered his course
and approached. Quaile stretched out
his hand.
Hello, Carlton You're in a hurry"
Il came up 10 see Ntzhugh," Carlton
answered Cant find out whether he $
in, and I've another appointment He's
onered me contract for Woodford's
part In the revival of Coward's Fare 81
You'll do 1t we'll" QuaIIe said
Looks like long winter. Sentimen,
will draw big audiences"
He watched the uncertainty in the
others face increase
You don't look oyerjoyed"
I'm glad of the Job" Carlton an.
swered. I'm no fool. But it's curious
Quaiie. l ran into a girl only last night
who played with that stock company al
"oodford's fve or six years ago. Ac.
tually, she tried to argue me out OF
accepting she contract Talked about
Noodford's influence persisting and re.
senting the presence of the living In
his theater-uncomforta feelina
about the dressing rooms. and all that
lot of rot, too. about Woodford's
black cat. She said Bertrand woodford
had worked himself to death rather
than let any man play This part; and
that a lot of people felt he never would
let any man play 1t, now that he wal
dead. You know. she seemed to believe
the nonsense. Funny how such stories