On reaching New York and presenting himself at the Madison Square Theatre as a candidate for the office of stage manager,--or, as it is now often and incorrectly designated, “producer,”--Belasco was subjected to minute interrogation, first by Daniel Frohman, the business manager, and then by both the Mallorys. This ordeal appears to have been rigorous, but it was satisfactorily ended and the appointment was duly made. Belasco remembers that, after a long conversation, the Rev. Dr. Mallory remarked, “I’m glad you have laid such small stress on the melodramatic emotions of life, for here we are trying to uphold those emotions which are common to us in our daily existence.” By what means the candidate contrived to convey that impression to his clerical inquisitor must remain a mystery, because in all Belasco’s views of dramatic composition, and in all his contributions to it, the most prominent and obvious fact is his propensity to melodrama,--meaning the drama of startling situation and striking stage effect. Dion Boucicault was the originator and the denominator of “the sensation drama,” and David Belasco has been, from the first, and is now, a conspicuously representative exponent of it. He was approved, however, he entered at once on the performance of his duties, and thus began his permanent connection with the New York Stage. It is doubtful whether Belasco decided wisely when he accepted the office of stage manager of the Madison Square Theatre, under the Mallory management. His play of “American Born” having succeeded in Chicago, he might have accumulated capital from its success and from other resources, and so happily escaped from an association which imposed on him a heavy burden of exacting labor, without advantage of public recognition, and without adequate monetary recompense. He believes, however, that his acceptance of that office laid the cornerstone of his success. Conjecture now is useless. He did accept the office, and he held it, industriously and honorably, for about three years. The terms of his contract with the Mallorys, as he has stated them to me (the original document, I understand, perished in the San Francisco earthquake fire), were, in my judgment, iniquitously unjust to him. As stage manager he was obligated to render all his services to the Madison Square Theatre management,--that is, to the Mallorys. His salary was $35 a week for the first season, $45 a week for the second season, and thereafter to be increased in the same proportion the third, fourth, and fifth seasons. The contract was to continue in force for five years, unless the Mallorys should become dissatisfied. The Mallorys further acquired, by the terms of the agreement, a first option on any play he might write during the period of his employment by them. If a play of his were accepted and produced by them he was to be paid $10 a night, and $5 for each matinée, during its representation,--a possible $70 a week.