Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

Page 20 text:

18 THE SENIOR MAGNET The doctor nodded and said, “Perhaps you had better go. Tell her I was explaining her care to you and giving you instructions. I will finish my story in the morning. Good night.” He smiled and extended his hand. Bryce Foraker came over to where I was standing. “I beg your pardon for speaking so rudely to you a few moments ago, Miss Worth. Good night.” My patient spent the next few minutes explaining specifically what I should not do. I continued arranging the room for the night without replying. “You will sleep in your own room, Worth. I wish to be alone at night. I’ll ring if I want you. Understand? You may go.” I was glad to get to my room where I could think out this queer affair. Despite the fact that I had told Mr. Foraker that I didn’t possess nerves, they kept me from going to sleep immediately- Once asleep I slept soundly until seven o’clock . During the forenoon while off duty, the doctor, who had remained all night, told me his plan. That afternoon Bryce Foraker was to be called to the city on business. While there he becomes seriously ill and dies within a few hours. Two days later he is to be brought home to be buried that day. The doctor based his plan on the belief that Mrs. Foraker would not be able to come down stairs. In case she did Dr. Burke, with my assistance would give Foraker an injection of --------. This would make his appear as dead for a few hours. Strictly according to plan, the doctor’s orders were carried out and as we supposed, Mrs. Foraker was unable to leave her room. The body was removed to the tomb. This was a huge stone vault built at the rear of the garden. It was as strange as the fancy of the man who had built it. The passages formed a huge cross. At one side the wall was solid except for the width of a coffin. Into this Captain Foraker’s body was placed. Young Foraker’s coffin was placed on the floor on the side opposite that of his father’s. After I had tried to comfort the sorrowing step-mother and received a sharp command to leave the room, I entered my own chamber. It was almost half-past ten when I entered the room. As the doctor ordered, I went to bed fully dressed. I had little difficulty in keeping awake. At twelve or shortly after I received the expected visit from my patient. Quite satisfied that I was asleep, she left the room and I heard her pass my door. As quickly and quietly as possible, I followed. When we had almost reached the vault Mrs. Foraker glanced hastily in all directions. I was extremely thankful for the many shrubs in the garden. She unlocked the heavily barred gate and pushed back the great iron door. The beams from her searchlight darted back and forth over the walls, casting ghastly lights through the gloomy place. The light rested upon the coffin of her step-son. She hesitated but a second then resolutely stepped into the vault and pushed the door part way shut. Then slowly the lid of the coffin raised and the body sat up. I grasped hold of the iron rods of the door, my knees trembled and I thought that I would faint. Mrs. Foraker uttered one terrible scream, and dropped to the floor.

Page 19 text:

THE SENIOR MAGNET 17 Quite satisfied as to his patient's condition, he called me aside. “Miss Worth, come down to the library a few minutes, please.” A young man stood leaning against the mantle in the library as we entered. Dr. Burke presented him as Bryce For-aker. “Now, Miss Worth, he began as soon as we were seated, “I wish to explain a little about this case. Mrs. For-aker’s condition is merely a matter of nerves-------.” “And imaginations,” added Foraker. “I wrote to Dr. Stone, a very dear friend of mine, to send me a good nurse, one who could be trusted.” Dr. Burke went on without apparent notice of the interruption. “I ordered a nurse for Mrs. Foraker, not because she needed one, but because I want you to help Bryce, he motioned to the young man staring intently into the fire, “and me.” I wondered what I was to do. Whether I was to aid in some dire plot cr--------. The doctor interrupted m y thoughts. “For three years Bryce Foraker has been with a party of explorers in the Arctic regions.” The doctor’s voice sounded like that of one who had repeated the story many times and knew it work for word. All the while he kept his eyes on my face. fie heard of his father’s death while on his way home, but nothing of the fact that his father, Captain Foraker, had remarried. “The woman, he disliked the moment he saw her; her hysterical grief-----.” I noticed that Dr. Burke had a habit of not finishing his sentences. “The captain's pet hobby was the collection of beautiful pearls, and an- other was the building of his tomb back of the garden. The story of these, his hobbies appeared about a year ago in a Chicago newspaper.” “I remember reading that article in the Tribune,” I said. “At one time I had been a reporter for that paper.” “In this step, he made a grave mistake. He brought before the eyes of the public, especially the crook world—. You may wonder what bearing this may have on your duties, but the fact is we suspect Mrs. Foraker. We are planning to verify our suspicions.” “I warned my friend after the publication of that article that someone might attempt to steal the pearls. He then built a safe in the tomb or rather the vault and placed them in it. The tomb was then sealed and was not opened until his death. “How or when the Captain met this woman I don't know or how she learned the hiding place of the pearls. He died just three weeks after his marriage. “The day after my friend was buried I saw her enter the tomb. She was supposed to be in bed overcome with grief. Since then I have had the place secretly watched and she has been seen there several times. So far she has been unable to find the safe. I am the only one who knows where it is and the combination. He paused a moment in his narration, his eyes clouded. “Oh, how could anyone go in there!” I exclaimed, my voice not altogether steady. “You don’t have nerves do you?” Mr. Foraker interjected rudely. This was the first time he had shown any sign of having heard what was said. “No,” I answered quietly. Somehow 1 did not at all resent his remark. Parker, the butler, entered, saying that Mrs. Foraker wanted me at once.

Page 21 text:

THE SENIOR MAGNET 10 Dr. Burke and Parker stepped from shook his head, the passage way on the right. Swiftly That night one came back to life and the doctor examined Mrs. Foraker and another died. ------b.-h.-s.--------- THE TASK John Dodds Up to that fateful week in July, Henry Burgess had been a mild mannered man. There was no doubt of that. Even his wife admitted as much, and Claire, his daughter, had only to sit on her dad’s knee and stroke his bald head with her soft hand, to obtain the fondest wish of her heart. Claire was just home from college, and could coax very prettily. No, Henry had without a doubt been the meekest man in Tarrytown. His very appearance indicated that. Of medium height, slim, and with a slight stoop, he was remarkably successful at effacing himself in a crowd. By one of the little jokes of life, his wife was of a commanding physique, and in a rush she always went first, with Henry following in her wake. The top of his head was as bald as an ostrich egg; the only foliage which he possessed being a patch of grey above each ear. His friendly blue eyes gazed cheerfully over a pair of old-fashioned iron rimmed nose glasses. He fitted in exactly with his musty law offices, with its rows upon rows of hide-covered books, the old desk in the corner, and the squeaky office chair. Altogether, you would say, a kindly, well meaning gentleman, incapable of harming anyone. And so he was, but remember that this was before the first week in July, when the great Bolshevik Revolution threatened to spring forth full fledged in the United States. The metamorphosis in Henry was sudden—it was first noticed at the breakfast table one morning. The Bur- gesses has been left without a cook the week before, and in spite of every effort to secure another, they had been unable to fill the vacancy, and Mrs. Burgess, although she did her best to serve up palatable dishes, was rather a failure in the kitchen. On this morning Henry, after trying some bacon which had been burnt to a crisp, and despairingly biting into a sodden biscuit, caught up the morning paper, but had hardly started an article headed “Local Leader of Reds Suspected to Be a Woman,” when he threw the paper down and swung into a tirade against the government. “I’d like to know what things are coming to,” he snapped in closing. “When I have to pay the price I did yesterday for that coal in the cellar, I tell you there’s something radically wrong. If the government won’t step in and stop these everlasting prices, there’s always some way out. For instance these Reds,” and he returned to his article. When her husband had left for the office, Mrs. Burgess, trying to clean a burnt pan, said to Claire, “I don’t know what has come over your father lately. Of course he raves about the president, and the high cost of everything, but lately he’s got to acting so strange—he talks in his sleep, and says the most terrible things about bombs and explo sions. Claire, you don’t suppose your father is a Bolshevist, do you ?” “No, no, Mumsey, don’t get worried,” said Claire. “You know dad misses Norah’s cooking badly, and he