"But I have an engagement with Mr. Frohman," said Drew. "You will have to wait," said the boy. Drew cooled his heels outside while Frohman waited impatiently inside for him. When he emerged at lunchtime he was surprised to find his man about to depart. Daly was immediately discharged by Julius Cahn, who was office manager, but was promptly reinstated the next day by Frohman, who had been greatly impressed with the boy's quick wit and intelligence. This office-boy, it is interesting to relate, became Arnold Daly, the actor. No experience of his life was perhaps more amusing or picturesque than the crowded year when he manned the outside door of Charles Frohman's office. Instead of attending to business, he spent most of his time writing burlesques on contemporary plays, which he solemnly submitted to Harry Rockwood, the bookkeeper. During these days occurred a now famous episode. Young Daly was luxuriously reclining in the most comfortable chair in the reception-room one day when Louise Closser Hale, the actress, entered and asked to see Charles Frohman. "He is out," said Daly. "May I wait for him?" asked the visitor. "Yes," answered Daly, and the woman sat down. After three hours had passed she asked Daly, "Where is Mr. Frohman?" "He's in London," was the reply. Afterward Daly became "dresser" for John Drew, the virus of the theater got into his system, and before long he was an actor. Thus even Charles Frohman's office-boys became stars. * * * Epochal as had been 1892, witnessing the first big Frohman star and a great artistic expansion, the new year that now dawned realized another and still greater dream of Charles Frohman, for it brought the dedication of his own New York theater at last, the famous Empire. Ever since he had been launched in the metropolitan theatrical whirlpool, Frohman wanted a New York theater. As a boy he had witnessed the glories of the Union Square Theater under Palmer; as a road manager he had a part in the success of the Madison Square Theater activities; in his early managerial days he had been associated with the Lester Wallack organization; he had watched the later triumphs of the Lyceum Theater Company at home and on the road. Quite naturally he came to the conviction that he was ready to operate and control a big theater of his own. The way toward its consummation was this: One day toward the end of the 'eighties, William Harris came to New York to see Frohman about the booking of some attractions. He said: "Charley, I want a theater in New York, and I know that you want one. Let's combine." "All right," said Frohman. "You can get the Union Square. The lease is on the market." "Very well," said Harris. On the way down-stairs he met Al Hayman, who asked him where he was going. "I am going over to lease the Union Square Theater," he replied. "That's foolish," said Hayman. "Everything theatrical is going up-town."