Under the circumstances, McHugh would probably have been wiser never to have attempted such a revival. Had he cared to open his ears he might have heard warnings in plenty, for Woodford’s Theater had become a tradition in the profession, an evil one, a menace, in short, for the superstitious. It is difficult to trace such beliefs to a reasonable source. Few along Broadway attempted it. The stock company, which five years ago had opened the house for a winter’s campaign, offered sufficient testimony. If there was nothing more than rumor behind the theater’s reputation, why, people asked, had that company within a week abandoned its lease and forfeited its guaranty? Why had its leading man on the final night rushed from the stage, his eyes fixed, shaken throughout as if by some experience beyond human comprehension?