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46
EXHIBITORS HERALD
March 21, 1925
ABOVE: A touching scene
from J. W. Betterworth’s epic production, “A Dirty Deal From a Cold Deck.” (See letter. )
LEFT: Cliff Lewis, Strand theater, Syracuse, broadcasting from Station WFBL. (See letter.)
BELOW: Remarkable window display tie-up by Harry F. Storin, Leroy theatre, Pawtucket, R. 1. (See letter.)
A DIRTY DEAL
from
A COLD DECK
From the screen play “Tessahelle, the Swineherdess” by
J. W. BETTERSWORTH
BRILLIANT CAST
Teesabelle Gertrude Radish
Jake Lorimer ^Sylvester Ergle
The Sheriff Frank Fetish
LOCATION:
A log cabin way, way out in God's great out of doors, including Arizona, miles and miles from the little town of Hydraphobia.
TIME:
When yon golden disc (sun) hides timidly behind the frowning silhouette of the great mountain range and surrenders its majestic realm to the goblins and devildevils of radio land who frighten the bad little boys and girls and who tuck the chickens to bed. About seven P. M. Western time.
LATER:
The curtain rises. (The entire success of this stupendous presentation depends upon whether the curtain is up or down.) The audience sees workmen arranging the props and they offer suggestions as to where certain articles would look best.
Curtain falls to denote passing of the nineteenth century.
FIRST AND LAST ACT
Tessahelle, or “Tess” I shall call her, is sitting on a rustic bench reading a copy of “The Plastic Age” . . . she bows to the audience and speaks to several persons that she recognizes.
The drummer, after looking over the cues, starts imitating the “Clop, clop, clop” of an approaching horse and gets a big hand from the house. He steps up on his chair and addresses them, “Now my next
imitation ” He is cut short by a husky
cowman crashing through the door and onto the stage.
The house is breathless as they see the famous matinee idol stalk fearlessly to the footlights and lightly tap himself on his cerebum and medelum oblongatta to remove the dust and pebbles that come only from a long hard ride. The people readily see that he is a man of the out-of-doors.
JAKE (Looking out from under the brim of his fedora) — “Beg pardon, miss.”
TESS (Registering complete surprise) — “What!! Yooooooou here, Jake?”
JAKE — “Yes, Tessahelle, and, like Santa Claus, I have had a long hard ride.”
TESS— “Why?”
(Male Voice from Gallery — “Isn’t that just like a woman?”)
(Applause.)
JAKE— “Why— Why— WHY? My dear little woman . . . ya would never understand . . . the sheriff and his cronies are hounding me like some wounded animal at bay.”
TESS — “JAKE, you ARE an animal.”
JAKE— “Eh?”
TESS (eagerly) — “You are a deer.”
JAKE— “Eh?”
(Pause to allow company to freshen up a bit on their lines.)
JAKE (coming out of his state of comatose, turning two handsprings and landing upright at the side of Tessahelle) — “Tess . . . you must be brave . . . brave ... I know that it will be hard for you to be without me ... it would kill most women . . . but I must FLEE . . . FLEE from the SHERIFF and his BLOODTHIRSTY pack . . . sometimes I think that I will seek out some lonely New York cabaret and end it all — all. (He takes a seat in the corner and rests his head in his hands.)
(A low whistle is heard outside — or backstage.)