Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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CLASS OF JANUARY, 1932 27 I worked. Each morning I started out with fresh ideas of where to look and drove the five miles from the town where I was staying, only to return in the evening, tired, dirty, and discouraged. I had rapped on walls until my fingers ached, trying to discover secret hiding holes. By each fireplace I spent at least two hours. I investigated under every rafter composing the floor of the attic. I even pulled boards out of the floor, only to be disappointed. I took a flashlight and went up the back passage, kicking holes in the rotted wood, still finding nothing. From the front hall, under the staircase, a door opened to the cellar; I investigated that, but it contained only a couple of house snakes and I hurriedly evacuated that place. There was only one place left to try and that was the broken front porch. So, on my hands and knees, I tore away still more of the rotting boards to see if I could find any evidence. There was nothing. As I stepped down off the porch onto the stone slab, I suddenly thought that the money might have been hidden under the slab. I began to dig, and was going at it vigorously when I stopped short. The date wasn’t 1773” at all ! It was 1873”! That meant that the owner couldn’t have possibly had his home taken from him after the Revolutionary War. It hadn’t been built until long after that ! What was the idea? Was the man, too, deceived by the indistinct 8” which looked like a 7”. Sick at heart, I determined to stop work and started home. About three miles from the house, I stopped at a farm house and inquired of the lady living there what she knew about the place. Oh, that thar old stone house, you mean? Oh—that b’longs to the state penitentiary. Ya’see, they take their prisoners over thar to the stream for swimmin’. Thar ain’t much water ’round these here parts, and the boys ain’t got nothin’ much to do for exercise, an’ no place to swim but here, so they jest walk ’em over once a week. Yeah, the penitentiary is ’bout four miles ’cross country, that way right thar, an’ a mighty fine place it be, lady. What say? Air the men allowed t’ roam ’bout. Sure e’nuf; the trusties” often go up ’bout that thar old stone house; an’ if I was you, I wouldn’t be a foolin’ around thar much. Ain’t right, I sez to Jim, ’cause thar’s one fellow who’s sorta baffy. They say he ain’t goin’ to hurt nobody ’cause thar ain’t never nobody ’round them parts anyhow. All the time he’s a-thinkin’ he discovered some valuable papers goin’ way back to Revolutionary Days. He used t’ be some history teacher, they sez, and he killed somebody an’ then went crazy. He ain’t never found no sech papers. He couldn’t hev, ’cause Clem Adams used t’ live in the old stone house, and Jiis oF pap built the place. What say? Thanks? Oh, tha’s all right ! G’bye, lady !”

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26 THE SENIOR MAGNET ed through my mind. What would he say to me? Did he own this house? Why had it been deserted? What would he think of anyone who came snooping around like this? Perhaps this man’s ancestors had owned it and, because of financial difficulties, it had fallen to ruin; maybe this man was going to redeem it. The house was decidedly English and perhaps - - - All the ideas that had been running through my mind while I was investigating it, seemed to come to a focus in my brain. But before I could choose among them, the man stood before me. I could tell by the look on his face that he was astounded. He hadn’t expected to see anyone, let alone a girl, and the way he stammered and blushed quite took away my fear. Probably thinks he is caught just the same as I did, and quite as much ashamed,” I thought. So, quite fearlessly I took the initiative. To whom does this house belong?” I asked him. He looked at me oddly, dumbly. Well,” he began thoughtfully as if debating whether to even speak, I have been working upon that myself. You see, I think it ought to be mine, but I haven’t proved it yet. Say, maybe you’d be interested an’ would like to help me out?” And he waited anxiously for me to answer. Help him — well, why not? At least I’d find out to whom those tile fireplaces belonged. So I readily answered, Suppose you tell me your ideas and if I think them worth considering, I’ll help you.” The gaze he fixed upon me was peculiarly intense. First, you must promise to tell no one. I’m not working for everyone’s fun, but I must have someone to help me out a little, I guess—you see I can’t come here every day and somebody else might find it first. But—no, you won’t do, I’m afraid. You’re not strong. No.” After my earnest pleading, however, he finally consented and told me confidentially of papers he had found telling him something of the former owners of the house. It had been in different hands, he told me, but the papers he had found had concerned the original owner, a Tory ancestor df his, whose property the government had confiscated at the close of the Revolutionary War. He had hidden his wealth somewhere on the premises to conceal it and had died, trying to tell his son where to look for the gold. With it had been hidden the grant to the land, signed by George III himself ! No descendant had ever found this treasure and this man was the last of tfie clan. Half the treasure would be mine, he said, if I would help search the house diligently, for he was positive that it was still there somewhere. What was there about him which made me agree so readily? Or was it the lure of that George III signature which I was so anxious to see? To this day I don’t know, but I promised faithfully to help, and he left with the assurance that I would start looking the next day. The following week he was to meet me here to find how matters stood. He said that he couldn’t help me until then, for he would be working, in his spare time, on the papers he had already found. I was true to my promise. For six long days, from morning till night,

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2S vsr THE SENIOR MAGNET “(Laugh and the World (Laughs With you John R. Scblicbt I met him first at a Hallowe’en party, and he was laughing then. I became better acquainted with him at college, and there, he was always laughing. Years later, I ran across him again in New York, and he was still laughing. Herein lies our story—the story of a man who laughed and expected the world to laugh with him. His name was Ted Gannon, and we became great friends. In fact, we boarded together in New York. Although Ted was never a great hand at talking about himself, I gradually gathered the entire story of his life. He was a very likeable chap; perhaps the continual smile that played about his lips helped with that. One day I remarked on this perpetual smile. Bill,” he told me, I have it all figured out. If, when I come to die, I can say that I have gone through life with a smile, then I shall consider my life a success.” I must admit that he went through life with a smile, but whether or not he was a success is for you, dear reader, to decide. We had been rooming to-gether for some months and were getting along famously. I was a confirmed bachelor, but Ted was deeply in love. Finally one June evening, Ted dressed himself with unusual care, fussing and fretting at every trifle. After he was attired according to the latest fashion ads, he handed me a clothes brush and sheepishly asked me to dust off his coat. With cigar in one hand and clothes brush in the other, I complied. Where to, Ted?” said I. You act like a man who is to be married for the first time.” You’re not far wrong,” he told me. This evening, I am to give her this.” He showed me a beautiful diamond ring and hurried out of the room. I was just getting to the climax of a magazine story, when lagging footsteps sounded along the hallway. What !” thought I. Is the gay Lothario suddenly stricken with hardening of the heart?” The door slowly opened and in came Ted with a dazed look on his face; but the smile was still there. What’s wrong, Ted?” I asked. Mary threw me over,” he said simply, and went to his room, with the smile still struggling to keep its place. Ted’s first business venture was in the clothing business. A ready smile drew trade and trade brought money. Fortune flirted with Ted, smile for smile. Then, just as he thought she was within his grasp, the phantom shape disappeared, and in its stead, Ted found himself staring into the glittering eyes of Failure. For his partner had lost money heavily, by gambling, and had used the store’s name on check after check. There was the usual crowd of inane sympathizers. Laugh,” Ted told them stubbornly, and the world laughs with you.” The world saw the smile, but I saw the anger gnawing at his heart.