Santa Rosa High School - Echo Yearbook (Santa Rosa, CA)

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The Rider of the Park y had been relieved from duty at the Eighth avenue entrance re an hour before; had reported at headquarters, and was 4 walking briskly across the park, homeward bound. The night was as clear as crysal, and as cold as ice. The full moon shed a silvery glow over the maples that bordered the avenue, and the stars glistened like myriads of diamonds in the vaulted heavens. As I rounded the corned near the museum, I no- ticed a light in the nightwatchman’s office, just to the right of the suite of rooms given to him for his home, where he had lived for twenty-five years. Tim and I were old friends, so when I saw the light in his office, I decided to pay him a friendly visit. The clock in the beach observatory struck nine, as I knocked. The old man opened the door, and greeted me with a hearty welcome. “Why, howdy, Jerry!” he exclaimed, wringing my hand until I almost saw stars, “it's been an age since I've seen you; how have you been, anyway ? “By the way, you didn’t see anything of the Rider as you came through the park, did you?” he asked as I seated myself on the couch opposite his reading table. “The Rider—pray whom do you mean?” I asked, somewhat indifferent- ly, as I took off my gloves and moved n earer the fire. “You, a park policemen, don’t mean to tell me you have never heard of The Rider of the Park!” he exclaimed in astonishment. “I'm afraid such is the came, but tell me about it: who is The Rider of the Park, any way?” said I, hoping to draw from him one of his many ro- mantic legends of this mysterious old park. “Well, as I remember, it was this way, he began, crossing his legs and folding his hands over his knees, “about twenty years ago, when the mount- ed police were first stationed in the park, there was ah andsome young fellow, by the name of Rafferty, stationed at the Eighth avenue entrance—your own station, Jerry. He was a tall young fellow of powerful build, with dark auburn hair, and big, black eyes that twinkled like stars when he was smil- ing, and that snapped fire when he was angry, which wa s seldom. He was the handsomest man I ever saw in a uniform, and he and his big, black horse were familiar objects around the park of an evening. “Well, Rafferty was in love with Molly Dunne, a sw eet, little blue-eyed gire, who worked in a down-town candy store. Since he was on duty at night, and she at work in the daytime, they didn’t get to go out much to- gether. This is how it happened that Rafferty wasn’t with them, when Saturday night, the thirtieth of November, she and a crowd of her friends came out to a ball given in honor of the opening of the Eighth Avenue Hotel. About twelve o'clock, she and her friends left the hall-room, and came over one to the entrance to take a car for hime. While they were waiting, Rafferty rode up on his big, black horse, dismounted. and stopped to talk with them. They had been talking probably ten minutes (the cars didn’t run as often [Page twenty-two]

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THE ECHO fessed at the committee meeting tonight. But don’t you think it’s absolutely the most disgusting thing you ever heard of? Of course, it’s the game for the Sophs. to try to find out our plans, but that is going a little too far. The Sohps., not knowing how Miss Sutton gained her information, are praising her to the sky. Oh! it just makes me boil all over when I think of it.” fter the girls had discussed the matter for a few minutes, Helen sig- nificantly remarked, “ What do you say to giving the clever Sophomore an- other chance to distinguish herself, girls?” “What's the plan, Helen?” eagerly asked Sally. Shortly afterwards, Nan was saying at the ‘phone, “Hello! is that Miss Sutton? Martha Sutton? Well, this is— (Aside). Hurry, Sally, I’ve got the culprit. Here’s the receiver. Speak up, now.” “Hello! Hello! you still there, Ethel? What's the matter with the old ‘phone, anyway ?—wires must be crossed. Now, remember what I told you about the supper—all the Freshmen are to meet in back of the gym at half past ten tonight. We'll fool the Sophs. yet. Now, be sure to meet me here at ten sharp—you and I are the only ones who know the pass-word, so we have to get their early. Remember, ten sharp, Room 14, Wellby Hall.” Af- ter firing this rapid conversation at the ‘phone, Sally slammed down the re- ceiver, and said, “Here’s hoping that our friend, Miss Sutton, bites at that.” After Martha Sutton overheard this conversation, and exultant gleam shone through her eyes. “Well, isn’t that lucky?” she thought to herself. ‘The wires must have been crossed—wonder who it was that telephoned to me? Lovely piece of information I gained—Oh, you poor Freshman! your supper is certainly doomed. Now, what had I better do—warn all the Sophs., so that they will be sure to prevent it?. But, no! if those two girls who are to meet are detained, the supper can’t come off, for they are the only ones who know the pass-word. I'll go myself, t oRoom 14, Wellby, at ten sharp, and have the pleasure of intercepting them.” The night was cold and stormy, and the distance from Martha Sutton’s voarding place to Wellby Hall was not short, but, in her endeavor to dis- inguish herself, she realized that this was too good a chance to be missed, and braved the storm. t exactly three minutes to ten, Martha, drenched and fatigues after her walk, she was cautiously walking down the long, dimly-lighted hall on the second floor of Wellby Hall, peering at the number of every door. [i- nally, at the end of the hall, she came upon Room 14. A light shone through he transom at the top of the door. She knocked, but no one answered, and, istening for a moment or two, she could not hear a sound. ‘They evidently don't wish to receive callers tonight—probably think that if they keep quiet and don’t answer, whoever is here will depart. But they’re greatly mistaken —I'll knock again and if they don’t answer, walk in,” she thought to herself. True to her word, after her second knock was unanswered, she grasped the loor-knob, opened the door, and boldly stepped in—then started back in amazement— It was the laundry-room! [Page twenty-one]

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THE ECHO then as they do not), when all of a sudden, Molly took a notion to ride the horse. She jumped into the saddle with such a sudden bound that the horse became frightened, and started to race off down the drive. Although Molly was a good rider, she couldn’t manage the horse, and the tighter she pulled on the bridle, and the louder she yelled ‘whoa’, the faster he went. Rafferty and the rest tried to catch the horse, but he was too fast for them. Suddenly,. he turned a sharp corner, went clear off the road, stumbled, and plunged into the lake that used to be near the conservatory. Molly and the horse were both drowned before assistance could reach them. Rafferty, stricken with. grief, threw himself into the lake and was drowned with his sweetheart. “All this happened twenty years ago, but they say that each year, on the thirtieth of November, Molly Runne rides through the park on her coal- blask steed and disappears somewhere over near the conservatory. They also say that the person who sees her will have bad luck for a year afterwards. Tonight is the night. That's why I asked you if you’d seen her,” concluded the old watchman. A thick blanket of sea-fog had drifted landward, shutting out the light of the moon and the stars, making the night “as black as Erebus,” when | fastened my overcoat tighter across my chest, put on my cap and gloves, and started, once more, homeward across the park. “Look out for the Rider,” was Tim’s parting shot as I disappeared from view into the darkness. Now, I think that I am not a coward, and I am not often frightened, but, somehow, after leaving my friend, an intangible something that might have been termed nervousness, crept over me. I started at every sound I heard, and once, when I heard a twig snap near me, my heart leapt up into my throat with a bound, skipping several beats, I am sure. I had reached a turn in the avenue that leads around by the music-stand, when I heard a low, soft voice. It was indistinct as yet, but in a minute,—yes, there could be no doubt about it. It was the unmistakable rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, of a galloping horse, and furthermore, it was coming closer every minute. I determined that I would not be frightened; that I would face whatever it was. if it took my life, but I will confess that my teeth were chattering and that my knees were shaking. Closer and closer, every second, came the horse. I had walked about ten paces, when the steed with its rider swung into view. Will I ever forget that sight? Never, as long as I live! There, silhouetted against the silver maple ahead of me, galloping at a moderate speed, was a huge, coal-black horse. In the saddle, sat a young girl, dressed as girls dressed twenty years ago. There was nothing in this to terrify a man, but the fact that struck terror to my heart was this: from the eyes and jaws of the horse, and from the eyes and lips of the rider, flashed tongues of blue fire. I stood there a moment, too dazed to move. Then, cold sweat burst forth on my forehead, my hair stood straight up on my head and my eyes bulged out. Then, with a yell that I am sure startled people three miles away, I bolted for the mu- [Page twenty-three]