Those were _all_ great big popular successes--_money-getters_. Why, when I was more than usually hard-up, I had been able, often, to get money in advance on my royalties on plays that had not even been begun. Yet, with a finished play, a _good_ one, one I’d worked on for years, that I _knew_ was good and that anybody could see was good; with an actress for whom the leading part had been made as carefully as though it were a dress for her to wear, I could not get a hearing. I think pretty nearly every producing manager in New York refused that play. Why? I never _knew_--and I don’t _know_ now: yet I believed then and I believe now that, underlying all my difficulty, was far more than any antagonism to Mrs. Carter; that the men whom afterward I fought for so many years were glad enough to have me work _for them_ as a stage manager and stock playwright, but that they were _not_ willing I should get established as an independent manager.” This view of Belasco’s position has been stated before, and I have heard it ridiculed. In my judgment the record of facts fully supports it. It cannot be proved, but “if imputation and strong circumstances, which lead directly to the door of truth, will give you satisfaction, you may have’t.” There is the record--and readers must decide for themselves. Writing of his dark days in 1894, Belasco has declared: “My private possessions, my library (containing some very valuable historical books),--my few antiques,--everything--had been sold. As a last economy, I decided to give up my little office at Carnegie Hall. ’This breaks the camel’s back! This _is_ the last straw!’ Mrs. Carter said. ’Mr. David, I’m in the way. They want your manuscript, but the fact of the matter is, they won’t have me. You’ve kept your promise and done all you could, but you can’t do any more; let some one else have my part.’ It was a case of the blind leading the blind, but I refused to give up. “I left her and walked down Broadway, where I came face to face with Paul Potter. ’Dave,’ he exclaimed, ’I was looking for you. A. M. Palmer has been very unfortunate of late and needs a play. Read “The Heart of Maryland” to him.’ “In less than an hour Paul Potter and I were on our way to Stamford. At last my luck had turned! Palmer accepted my play.”