Bloomington High School - Aepix Yearbook (Bloomington, IL)

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l sy: 1 P 1 A l J, i i i yi ll 1 i . f A a 1 V .... - , Y-. 1Af,.- f-f 1 -'Y' l C f Dina. A-, al l lmE.,f..,i enum: A iv, illl f 1 li' l I if if M 1 and her foot was not nearly to the floor. She was still fifth, no one had passed ii her since the start, yet she knew she must go faster. She stepped harder on the 5 little plunger, the car 'fpicked up nobly, and she passed the fourth car at the il curve. She was doing 102 now. She was gaining a little courage, it was not so 'E bad after all. She pushed up to third place. , l ? For two hours the cars pounded the planks, always changing places. Crilotte J ' ll still held third place and she was crowding second. She was not afraid now, she , , smiled a little as she gave her car more speed. As they took the curve the second l car turned too quickly. Crilotte saw it hit the fence, saw it crumple up like a -V ,El telescope, saw the driver with hands on wheel and eyes ahead, in death as in life. ll 55 Crilotte wanted to swoon, wanted to hide her head, to scream, to do anything. E 1 J She awoke from a sort of dream. She had been driving but she had fallen back. l l if Now she was eighth and her nerve was gone. Better give up , Joe wouldn't blame l A ll l' her. No, she couldn't do that, she set her chin, raised her slumping body, pushed i .I her dirty little face forward and stepped on the gas. She was driving 105 flat 1 gf now. She passed seven, six and five in rapid succession. As she passed the scene 4 of tohe accideiit, slae saw tile iierft firm of the driver being put in the ever-waiting sg, , am ulance. nvo untari y s e oo ed away. V- A Q Another hour passed. Crilotte was third again, and her nerve wa.s, in a i l measure, restored. Her arms no longer pained her, and now her mind contained , hope of winning-not fear. The engine had not balked yet, but the tires were 1 3 1 w almost gone. 'Considering everything, her chances were good. ii In the stand was Joe, his arm in a sling, his face bright and feverish. He A l' had seen the accident, had seen Crilotte sl-ow up, and then crawl up to third , . place. He blessed her mentally, was there ever a better car or a braver girl? 1, 5 , Here was Crilotte around again. The car swerved sharply, a. rear tire had blown if , 3 1 ll out. Crglotte knew what gtg io. 1 She drove over to the stalls, and in ten seconds W 1 was on er way-now in t p ace. iw A There remained but fifteen minutes. Crilotte was fourth. As yet the ac- l' celerator had not touched the floor. She began to push it harder now. Her car f Y and the third one took the curve abreast of each other, and then raced, side by l. f H side, for a whole revolution. Then Crilotte forged ahead. Number two was di- S i3 rectly in front of her. It fell back as the girl gave her car more speed. Number i A il one was a little way ahead. Crilotte realized that she must have speed- Q T Q more speed-still more speed. Around and around they went with no perceptible g , il difference in the distance between them. -Crilotte was determined now. She 5 9 meant to win. She forgot her sex, her fears and dangers. She peered apprais- E ingly at her tires. They were good for the finish. Then she felt her foot touch Q V the floor. 1 S Ten minutes more. Only eight cars remained in the race. Crilotte was l labreast number one. Now she passed him. At the curve she fell back to avoid fi itting him. Five more minutes. SQ, The stands were in chaos. Never was a more exciting race seen. People - danced, sang, shouted and what not. One young man, however, sat with staring im eyeis and tlrienfbligg hands watching. It was a spectacle he would never forget - i, as ong as e ive . 1 , N The cars came roaring to the finish. Surely it is a tie. No, number one is A i ly a little ahead. Great Scott! Look at 18 go. They 're even. No, 18's passing him. A 1 i ei Crilotte crossed the line an infinitesmal part of a second ahead of her rival. l i , Thousands were not sure who had won. A , vi as as se as as as as as as as , ,l it th 'iOCE'ilotteg said J oi one evenirig a week after the, race, I'm no better off Q i. ii an e ore. ou won t e money. am just as poor. i f Crilotte laughed. . 5, 1 Q git? 28 2 i SJ 1 E Q? m ff'y' 'i 'ifmMME 'EF ' N'-11'-f-Q:-M--THQ-'He'v M'f - ' z., ,M V '-V-'X'-TM-f-will Zgr W ,H,L X FJMQLEXTLMQAY H---...fl V -'H ' -f Ye41+ 'f-muff' fe -'Neff'- 'fw'Q 1 '-Sf'-V112 M- . 9

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vlllll uid 3 ima. vllln up tires, painted, cleaned spark plugs and waded ankle-deep in oil, wearing a smile, always joking and never complaining. SF 3? if F351 9? 2 'Ks S3 56 :lk 5? Fate is relentless and inscrutable, too. We sometimes find it hard to believe that every cloud has a silver lining, or that all is for the best. The great race was scheduled to begin at nine a. m. and last until one p. m.-four hours of arduous driving. At seven a. m. Joe broke his arm. In putting the finishing touches on his racer he had fallen from the hood, and in striking the cement floor had doubled his arm beneath him. Poor J oe! Poor 'Crilottel All was in readiness for the contest to begin. Twenty cars had made the tests, among them J oe 's white racer. People from all over the country were in town, hotels were crowded, tents were pitched and thousands of automobiles, parked outside the city, bedded rabid face fans, willing to undergo any hardship to witness the sport of kings. At 11:00 a. m. twenty lithe racing cars rolled out on the track. There was Roy Kenton who won steadily. There was Jacques LeRoy, the 'tflying French- man, and yes, there was Barney Mason, known from coast to coast for his iron nerve. This would certainly be a real race with so many celebrities. Who could number 18 be? It says on the list, J oe Martin. What a little fellow he is. What you can see of him looks almost girlish. Look at that curly hair sticking out under the helmet-and that tiny mouth. Wonder who he can be? There goes number one! Two is getting her start. Oh, boy, he crossed the line at forty. Pretty good, two. Crouched in number 18 was Crilotte. Her hands shook, her heart beat fast and she wanted to cry. Joe hadnlt wanted her to go, but she had pleaded with him, scolded him and finally cajoled him into giving his consent. He told her how to shift gears, to hold the wheel, to sit properly and to take the curves to the best advantage. Could she do it? She was just a girl, and this wasn't a thing for a girl to be doing, but her heart was in it and she was brave. It was her turn to make a dash for the starting line. She received her signal, let out the clutch, and with swift acceleration flew towards the mark. She crossed it at fifty miles per hour, her hands clasped about the wheel, her heart beating fast. But no faster than the heart of a young man in the grandstand who, when he saw her cross the line, uttered a low groan and let his face fall in his arms. But not for long, the lean white streak now far down the track fascinated him. It was hard to imagine that Crilotte was at the wheel, was driving that roaring fiash of metal-gentle little Crilotte who was so modest and retiring. She was driving eighty-eight fiat now, and she was running fifth, but that meant nothing. NVould the car stand up under it? Would the engine work properly after that first gruelling hour? Could the girl endure four hours of tireless, nerve-racking driving? Look! already they had circled the bowl twice. None of the cars was yet running a hundred miles an hour. Yes, there was -Crilotte. VVas she frightened? Can't tell, because all you can see is her mouth which is drawn into a hard line, and the little firm jaws, already grimy and dusty. Again and again they circle the giant track. The roar of cut-outs and tires on boards is deafening. The sight of the racers, and the mighty mass of people is like nothing else. Look at those stands. There are fifty thousand people if there is one. Over there is a whole flock of camera men, and, yes, there 's a squadron of planes, but their motors cannot be heard for the roars of the speed- ing cars. How about Crilotte? Vilas she frightened? Frightened! She was scared stiff. Already her arms felt tired and numb, and the wind whistling by made her head ache. She knew she should go faster, the engine was running smoothly 27 ESF shun V rmmi 9 ima mm' ee lj

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A man was here yesterday to see you. I asked his business and he said he represented Smith 85 Smith, Inc., who wanted to buy your engine. And you . . . As your future wife, I sold it for thirty thousand dollars. My future wife, said Joe, wonderingly. Then he did the only logical thing. THE END. The Greater Sueeess If you happened to be one of the many customers who daily thronged the aisles in D. J. Healy Shops, it is probable that you have noticed a bright-eyed salesgirl behind the sea of fluffy ribbons and sample goods on the main floor. There was a certain pleasing look about her that offset any attractiveness possessed by the various types of girls near her. One would have thought that her very life depended on making the best impression upon all of the patrons of D. J. Healy 's countless shops on the boulevard. Perhaps she was only thinking in percentages, but it was an undeiinable pleasure to be approached by her. She made you feel that you had given in proportion to what you had received. K if IK :Ki 'BF 1' 'lf FX' if if 3? It Was closing time on one of the busy days in the department store. As Ethel Pricer painstakingly covered her counter until the morrow many little occurrences of the day passed through her mind. She was thinking, in par- ticular, of a certain merry face that had been before her vision throughout the day. He had had a pleasing smile, a face that she could not forget as she handed him his package with the accustomed, Thank you, and, Will that be all? The frank grey eyes and boyish grin would remain long in her memory. The last bell had rung, warning late shoppers that they had bought enough for one day. The salesgirls were gossiping with each other of such and such a boy, and of course, the date connected with that important personage. Ethel wondered how they could think fast enough to catch everyone 's: ' ' Where are you going tonight? Another dance?' ' My, you must have made quite a hole in your pay envelope from last nightls gaietyf' You don 't say. '4Tell it again, part of the girls didn 't hear. Isn't he the cleverest ever? I'm Wild about the way he dances. 4'You tell 'emf' Goodnight girls, see you on the job to- morrow, sung out one, busily powdering her nose. Thus were the girls ex- changing snatches of conversation as they prepared to leave the scene of their day 's labors. Ethel liked her work, but as the door closed after her, she wondered to her- self. Would she always have to listen to that type of talk? What did it amount to, anyway? Was she classed as one of them? Just one of many, without in- dividuality or distinction. Her thoughts turned back to the letter she had re- ceived a few days previous. The letter had been from the Greenwood Industrial Offices in the same city in which Grace, her sister, was going to college. The manager of the firm, who was the father of Marjorie Howard, Grace's school chum, in exchanging frag- ments of conversation with his daughter, had heard her speak of Grace 's younger sister who was working in a department store in Chicago. Marjorie had told him of Grace 's sister having taken a preliminary business course while in school, 29