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Page 11 text:
and her riding light high above, like a
Now everything was gloom again and
only the swishing of the water and the
throbbing of the engines broke the
On the stern deck in the glow of a
cabin light stood a young man leaning
against the after rail taking his last view
of the twinkling lights, and crying softly
to himself. His hat was removed, he was
rather handsome, with sharp, clear-cut
features and deepest penetrating eyes.
Suddenly a slinking figure slid out of
the shadows and pressed something. into
his hand. The figure shrunk back. The
young man started forward but the per-
son had gone. Then he unfolded the
something and read, We've gummed it,
old boy. 'We're trapped. It's too far to
swim. NVhat can we do? Meet me near
forward hatch, S A. MW
The young man was amazed. Wliat
could this mean? He read it over several
times. Surely someone had mistaken him.
As he slowly regained his sensesghe also
began to get an inspiration. It com-
menced to dawn upon him that something
was up. What should he do? Tell the
captain? He wanted to, but suppose that
it should turn out to be a tizzle. Woiildn't
he be the laughing stock though! And
that's the Way things usually turned out
with him. He 'd keep his eyes open any-
All night long he dreamed and imagined
everything from Blaekhanders to
German spies. He wished he was home
in bed now.
The next morning he slid quietlydown
onto the freight deck and made his way
cautiously toward the forward hatch. As
he drew near he noticed a crouched figure
over in among the piles near the mast.
He slipped himself cautiously back be-
AND GOLD - 9
hind a pile of boxes to have a look. He
looked and looked for some time. Present-
ly in glided another figure. Both were ap-
parently members of the crew.
Does this look like eight bells? said
the crouching one in a hoarse whisper.
Does this look like eight bells? re-
peated the other. c'What ya talkin'
. Didn't I say eight bells las' night?
Didn 't ya say eight bells las' night?
How do I know what ya said?
Well, didn't ya read that note?
XVhat note! Good land, man, don't
tell me that I didn 't give you thatnote
las' night? N
No, you didn't give me no note.
Oh, a kind of groan escaped him.
YVell was that your ghost standing by
the aft rail or was I dreamin'?
Good Lord, if that machine doesn't
get us, they will, the water isn't eold
and we're right in the steamer track.
She's set for nine o'cloek and we couldn't
move that pile in a month of Sundays.
Both men made a break for the half
open freight door, grabbed life rings and
Out slid the young man from the pile
of boxes, up the companionway three
steps at a time and up to the forecastle.
The captain was just emerging from
'4Captain, for heaven sakes send a crew
of men into the hold or we'll be pickin'
harps within fifteen minutes!
'WVhat's the trouble, young man? the
captain inquired anxiously.
There,s a time bomb among the pile
of boxes on the freight deck by the for-
ward mast. It's timed for nine!
The next thing t.here was a crew of
men working like mad heaving the boxes
out through the freight doors.
Page 10 text:
8 EAST I-IIGI-I.SCHO0L
loughby, and for a few minutes he hoped
that he was going at least to finish in peace.
Vain hope! As he approached the heart
of the city he saw a crowd of people and
heard the strains of a brass band. On
turning the corner he was received with a
great shout. Then he saw a. sight that
explained it all. '
In front of the town hall a float had
been drawn up. In it were a delegation
of Jones'.friends and a band. Bill Bailey
was standing shouting on all sides to the
people of the village, 'announcing his ar-
What sort of a fool circus are you
trying to make of yourselves? asked
A grand one, old man, and you have
been the elephant, the shining star of the
whole show. replied Bailey. You will
find lemonade in the ambulance.
You have won your money hand-
somely. Jones. acknowledged Ryan,
and we all accept with pleasure your
kind 1IlV1l31lZ1O1'1 to dinner.
GOING OVER THERE.
By Elizabeth Harrold. '
It was down at the old Hamburg-Arnen
ican pier in Hoboken. The Kron Prinz
Friedrich Vtlilhelm lay at her berth with
her rusty iron sides towering above the
freight houses. The Kron-Prinz, until
recently serving the Huns, was now to do
her bit for Uncle Sam.
Drays rattled to and fro over the rough
cobblestones, gang bosses, big rough men,
were calling their orders, and the huge
derrick booms fore and aft, were reach-
ing out and grabbing up great boxes and
sending them soaring skyward with a.
grating and squeaking of the blocks, and
then dropping them with a dull thud and
a cloud of iron rust into the hold.
Swarms of dingy, sweating negroes kept
up a thundering din rolling in barrels and
running up the gang-planks with hand-
trucks loaded with boxes and disappear-
ing into the bowels of the vessel. They
were all a roarin' away, De las' box, de
las' box. '
She was an inspiringsiglit as she lay
there in the hazy atmosphere with the
thick black smoke rolling slowly out of
her stacks, and way up high on her after
mast her riding light twinkling now wand
then through the dusk.
The derricks stopped squeaking, and
the last of the sweating negroes came
tumbling out of the boat. Dangi
Dang, the live minute warning signal
sounded, and members of the crew came
straggling aboard with their belongings
tucked under their arms. , Dangl An
oiflcer on the stern bridge called out,
Cast off those stern lines.
A single deep 110tB on the siren. The
little tug on the stern started churning up
the water and it rushed past the rusty
plates of the big steamer in a miniature
C-how,-chow,-chow, a myriad of
sparks Went fiying up and came down all
over the surface of the water, winked
and were gone. The great ship slipped
out into the river, straightened herself,
and went swinging past out of sight.
The ship was clipping along at a good
rate, her decks rose and fell steadily.
The last of Long Island was being swal-
lowed up in the gathering gloom, and a
low riding steamer, very indistinct, was
plowing along inward bound. She went
swishing past and the gloom seemed to
be thicker and glooinier where she was
with a few twinkling lights scattered in it
Page 12 text:
10 EAST HIGH SCHOOL
The last of the pile splashed into the
seaf Bang! Every man went Hat like
buckwheat before a storm. The ship
rolled heavily. The sea was strewn with
John, said the captain, we're all
mighty thankful to you.
Well, I wish I were home, John re-
A CHANGE IN LUCK.
By Earl W. Tite. '
Shorty Lewis is through, and I don't
blame him. I say that when a man gets
uncertain about death and taxes, it's
time to hunt the way out, and that 's what
Shorty has done.
They 's some fellows as can roll a dol-
lar down the street and it will come rollin'
back with five or six more little iron men.
Not so with Shorty. If Shorty was to bet
it would snow in Alaska next winter, men
would drop dead from the heat on Janu-
ary first in Nome. Why, with Shorty's
luck, John D. could lose his pile in twenty
minutes, matching pennies.
I dropped into the Tonsorial Arcade
about a month ago, and there sat the
usually smiling Shorty with his lower lip
hanging down like a catcheris chest pro-
tector. He that usually was so smiley
was a life size picture of Gloomy Gus.
The Arcade is across from our news-
paper office. Sam Black, the owner, de-
pends on the boys from the ofdce for his
trade, and in turn offers a convenient
hang-out. A .
'Shorty is the star barber of the place,
and when he ain't pushing some feller's
whiskers back in his face he 's tendin' the
pool table or pushin' dried, rope over the
counter in the back part of the shack.
Outside o' that Shorty's as busy as an
undertaker in a cannibal settlement.
No woman never fought to prepare
three squares a day for Shorty, so Shorty
donated his money to chance. He played
the worst game of poker I ever see, he
was unlucky at craps, and if he 'bet on a
horse, the old harness-rack would pull a
Russian retreat on the home stretch. How-
ever, Shorty managed to wear a face as
bright as a Mexican's shirt with all his
natural hard luck.
Trouble', wasn't part of Shorty 's
vocabulary, and that is why his gloom was
so noticeable. Shorty said he was sick,
but when I said I guessed the pain was
mostly in his pocket-book, he admitted it.
He said l16,d got to the' point where a
dollar was something like a ghost, a
thing you could see but not feel. Upon
inquiry he said he hadn't been robbed.
No, he said, I sat into a poker
game with them eggs in th' press room
once too many times. Since I been
puddlin' in that game, I been broke more
times 'n your speed laws. Last night was
the end of the world. I was Belgium and
them six guys was Germany. Say, with
their luck I could sell submarines to the
Swiss government. 'N now I'm in debt,
We was still figgerin' how we could
pull him out of that hole when in comes
Eddy Blake, with excitement stickin' out
on him like tags on a ten dollar suit.
After some hemmin' and stallin' We
found out that he had a sure tip on Non-
skid. Eddy and his sure thing didn't
create much of a stir at Hrst, but after
awhile-we started to listen to his ceaseless
chatter. It seemed that the book-makers
were oiering about fifteen to one odds,
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