East High School - Exodus Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

 - Class of 1918

Page 12 of 36


East High School - Exodus Yearbook (Cleveland, OH) online yearbook collection, 1918 Edition, Page 12 of 36
Page 12 of 36

East High School - Exodus Yearbook (Cleveland, OH) online yearbook collection, 1918 Edition, Page 11
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East High School - Exodus Yearbook (Cleveland, OH) online yearbook collection, 1918 Edition, Page 13
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Page 12 text:

im, 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 splintered wood. John, said the captain, we're all mighty thankful to you. Well, I wish I were home, John re- marked. , 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, too. ' 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,

Page 11 text:

THE BLUE and her riding light high above, like a star. Now everything was gloom again and only the swishing of the water and the throbbing of the engines broke the silence. 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- how. 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' about? . 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? NVhat 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 jumped. 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 his stateroom. '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 13 text:

THE BLUE and odds at the track would be about twenty to one. Pretty soon we got to talkin' money, an' that led to the question as to who was to do our p1acin'. Just then in comes Cy Brady. Cy was our printer. He 's some- wheres between thirty and sixty, can look either, and admits both. The only time there 's any hair on his head is when he puts a brush on it. But then overlookin' a few faults, Cy is a good sport. X Cy wanted to know what the mass meet- ing was about, and after Eddy had ex- plained it over again, Cy admitted it read well. Slip me the roll, says Cy, Nan' I'll do the rest. ' So we a.greed to pass the word around and meet at the Arcade that night with all the money we could raise. About eight, the boys began to come in, and in about a half hour the crowd was there, and Cy had his pencil and pad ready to keep track of what he took in. The boys had looked up the field pretty well and felt that at least they had a fightin' chance. There was Deadwood, May First,, The Snail, No Hope, and The Beetle, not a very hard field for our dark horse. Shorty started the ball a rollin' with fifty plunks. He said he had to pawn his watch and tip the boss for an advance, afore he could raise the dough. Ef I lose, says Shorty, the only thing between me an' the grave is the ride in the hearse, so here 's hopin' I Finally we got Cy started on the eleven o'clock with plenty of advice and instructions, not to set in on any poker games, easy shell guessin' or the likes of them. 4 The races was to be at San Juan, just over the line, and Jimmy Benz who was on the track wire, agreed to send us word A N D G O L D 11 as the race progressed, and Eddy was to get it on the phone from the office. That afternoon was a long one. James XVhit- eomb Schaefer, the brunette porter, went around with onlyfthe whites of his eyes showing. He had ive on the nose. Jus' like the old NVor1d's Series, says Eddy. Nothin' but class to us. Shorty said that his weak heart was going to have an awful strain, but Eddy told him Non-Skid could win with only one bellows. Finally Cy Benz called and we all clustered around the phone. They'rcl oiflu shouts Eddy. Wl1o, the operator? says Shorty. Skid's ahead an' No Hope pressin', shouts Ed. - Non-Skid two lengths ahead at the quarter, was the next news. P, I hope she's a long horse, says Shorty. Three lengths ahead at the half, bubbled Eddyg There's nothin' to do but hall in th' shecklesf' Just as easy as a potato race, says Shorty. No Hope is closin' in, says Eddy. That's more like nature, says Shorty, any time I bet, No Hope is sure to win. This is a horse, ya fool, says Pete Blair. i . Aw, I thought it was a new drink. Skid all alone at the three-quarters. James, you coon, get me a two bit cigar! Don' count yo eggs afore no hen lays, was James IfVhitcomb's breathless reply. ' After a report that the best bet was safe and strong on the home stretch, there was a lull, The man at the office said that he had lost the connection, but would get it again in a jiify. We thought that Cy must have had some money up too, and that he had left the phone in his excitement.

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