In connection with this play there is a story which should be told, for reasons which will be revealed in the telling.

"The Pot-boiler" was written in 1912, and entered for copyright in February, 1913. I took the manuscript to a friend, Edwin Bjorkman, editor of the "Modern Drama Series," and the most widely read student of dramatic literature known to me; also to Edgar Selwyn and Margaret Mayo, who knew thoroughly the contemporary stage. These friends confirmed me in my belief that I had hit upon that rare phenomenon—an entirely new idea to the stage. There are many examples of the "play within a play," but up to that time there had never been a play which showed the WRITING of a play: the processes which go on in the mind of a playwright, and how he uses his personal experiences in his work.

"The Pot-boiler" was accepted for production by William Harris, Jr., at the Hudson Theatre, New York. After many delays, Mr. Harris came to the conclusion that the play needed some rewriting to give it that "punch" which is essential to production in the neighborhood of Broadway. He sought to interest a certain well-known playwright, who will be here designated as Mr. X, in the idea of collaborating with me on the play. Mr. X read the manuscript and offered to collaborate on condition that two changes should be made: first, the play should be changed from a "shirt-sleeve play" to a "dress-suit play"—that is, the characters should be rich people; and second, the last act should be located in a manager's office, and show the acceptance of the play. As I did not care for these suggestions, Mr. X dropped the matter, and Mr. Harris allowed his rights in the play to lapse.

A year or so later, happening into Mr. Harris' office in the Hudson Theatre, he asked me with a smile, "Have you seen your play?" And when I asked what he meant, he added. "They have put it on downstairs." Needless to say, I purchased a ticket for the performance, and saw a play which differed from my play in two essentials—these being precisely the modifications which Mr. X had tried to persuade me to make!

The new play was announced as the work of two playrights, whom I will indicate as Smith and Brown; it was produced by a firm of managers, whom I will indicate as Jones and Robinson. I went to see Messrs. Jones and Robinson, who assured me they had never even heard of my play. While I was in the office, Mr. Smith, one of the playwrights, sought an interview with me, and assured me that he also had never heard of my play, his work was absolutely original. I gave him the names of various persons who had read my play, including Mr. X; and Mr. Smith assured me earnestly that he was a stranger to all of them. I accepted his statement; but as I was on my way out of the office of Messrs. Jones and Robinson, I beheld the name of Mr. X printed upon one of the doors of their private rooms, and upon inquiry I learned that Mr. X was employed on a regular salary as a play-reviser for this firm!

I went away pondering the situation. What I was asked to believe was as follows: Mr. Smith had composed a play having all the essential features of my new and original play, and differing only in the two modifications—these being the very same two modifications which Mr. X had urged me to make in my play. Mr. Smith had taken this play to the firm which employed Mr. X, and this firm had accepted the play and produced it, without Mr. X, their chief play-reviser, ever seeing it—or else without his mentioning that it was my play, with the two modifications in my play which he had recommended. The play had been taken to the Hudson Theatre, owned by William Harris, Jr., who had accepted my play and submitted it to Mr. X, and the play had actually been produced at this theatre for nearly a week without either authors or managers ever hearing of my play!

I may be unduly suspicious, but I could not credit this peculiar chain of coincidences. I took the matter to the Author's League, whose executive committee read my play, saw the other play, and agreed that I had cause for inquiry. Mr. Louis Joseph Vance, representing the league, undertook to interview Mr. X, who was an intimate friend of his, and sent Mr. X a telegram asking for an appointment. Mr. X did not answer. Mr. Vance assured me that this was the first time the gentleman had ever failed to reply to such a request from him. Subsequently, Mr. Vance made an appointment to meet Mr. X at luncheon, and hear his explanation of the matter; but Mr. X failed to keep the appointment. I went ahead with plans for a law-suit, whereupon Messrs. Jones and Robinson withdrew their play.

My reasons for telling the story are two. First, I think it well that would-be playwrights should have some idea what they may encounter when they venture into the jungles of Broadway; and second, because critics and play-goers who saw the play of Smith and Brown will wish to know which play was written first.