ions. Up to that era
theatrical booking methods were different from those of the present
time; there were no great centralized agencies to book attractions for
strings of theaters covering the entire country. Union Square was the
Rialto, the heart and center of the booking business. The out-of-town
manager came there to fill his time for the season. Much of the booking
was done in a haphazard way on the sidewalk, and whole seasons were
booked on the curb, merely noted in pocket note-books. Two methods of
booking were then in vogue: one by the manager of a company who wrote
from New York to the towns for time; the other through an agent of
out-of-town house managers located in New York. It was this latter
system that Frohman and Randall began to develop in a scientific
fashion. Charles's extensive experience on the road and his knowledge of
the theatrical status of the different towns made him a valuable agent.

Frohman and Randall at that time practically had the field to
themselves. Brooks & Dickson, an older firm which included the
well-known Joseph Brooks of later managerial fame, had conducted the
first booking-office of any consequence, but had now retired. H. S.
Taylor had just established on Fourteenth Street Taylor's Theatrical
Exchange, destined to figure in theatrical history as the forerunner of
the Klaw & Erlanger business.

Despite the high-sounding titles on the door, the Frohman offices were
unpretentious. Frohman and Randall had a desk apiece, and there was a
second-hand iron safe in the corner. When Frohman was asked, one day
soon after the shingle had been hung out, what the safe was for, he
replied, with his characteristic humor:

"We keep the coal-scuttle in it."

As a matter of fact there was more truth than poetry in this remark,
because the office assets were so low that during the winter the firm
had to burn gas all day to keep warm. When asked the reason for this,
Frohman said, jocularly:

"We can get more credit if we use gas, because the gas bill has to be
paid only once a month. Coal is cash."

Indeed, the office was so cold during that season that it came to be
known in the profession as the "Cave of the Winds," and this title was
no reflection on the vocal qualities of the proprietors.

It was during those early and precarious days when Frohman was still
saddled with the debts of the Wallack's tour that one of the most
amusing incidents of his life happened. One morning he was serve