Central High School - Cog N Pen Yearbook (Newark, NJ)

Page 16 text:

The reefs runs across here, said Emery, wading toward the shivering Pherry. “There's only five feet of water on it in the deepest part. We can wade it all right. Yes, vou can; but I'm only five feet four, and I can't breathe under the water. I tried it once, and I know I can't. Emery laughed good naturedly and said: ‘Ҹеј, get on my back and ГП carry you across. Гуе packed two hundred pounds all day for weeks at a time in my younger days, and I guess I can manage an extra fifty for a few yards.” Emery crouched down while the little fat man climbed on his back. Then he struck off carefully through the fast water. Say, Emery. Well? “Гуе been thinking it over, and I guess we'd better not mention this affair at all. Just what I've been thinking.” “The boys will only believe the funny рай of it, and give us the laugh when we tell 'em about landing a forty-pound salmon on a six-ounce trout rod.” And we'd be fined a hundred apiece for fishing on Sunday.” But that same night at dinner the members of the club, as they sat around the table, made the night resound with uproarious laughter. And the next day the club treasury was richer by two checks for one hundred dollars each, one of which bore the name of Emery, and the other the well-known signature of Davis Pherry. The Inheritance By BENJAMIN WASSERMAN £N his sick chamber lay Thomas Carl- ton Sheridan, the well known mining promoter, assayer and millionaire. Al- though he was sick in body, he was as active as usual in mind. His massive brow was lined with small wrinkles, always present when he was deeply engrossed in thought. At length, after a half hour of mental argumentation he decided on the thing to be done. Mr. Wallman, Sheridan's attorney, was summoned. Не was an alert, business- like man of twenty-eight. After a curt greeting Mr. Sheridan immediately brought up the subject that had been uppermost in his mind. “Mr. Wallman, you know that I had two broth- ers, one of whom ran away from home at the age of eighteen, while the other married against my fath- er's wishes. Тһе first, James, has not been heard of since he left home, some thirty years ago. Henry, the second brother, became father of a son. This Henry was always a rolling stone. I kept track of him until about four years ago, and now I am abso- lutely in the dark concerning his whereabouts. This testament that I give bears directly upon these two brothers. Не handed Mr. Wallman a sealed enve- lope, and Mr. Wallman departed with the precious document. As the attorney left a sudden fit of coughing siezed Mr. Sheridan, and he began to writhe in agony. The doctor was again summoned. Upon examination of the patient, he pensively shook his head and looked very grave. He remarked to the nurse that the millionaire was on the verge of death. That night, at twelve o'clock, the popular Thomas Charlton Sheridan breathed his last. 14 Upon the day of Mr. Sheridan's burial, Mr. Hanks, a medium sized, bow-legged, muscular armed individual, paced the length of his room in the Rocky Mountain Hotel, Denver. His hands clutched a cur- rent His shiftless, watery, red-rimmed eyes read again and again an announcement pertain- ing to the death of a Mr. T. C. Sheridan. This Mr. Hanks had known Mr. Sheridan some years before, and was acquainted with the story of his early life. His small, closely set eyes betokened meanness. Не had decided to present himself as the late Mr. Sheridan's lost brother, James. Аз soon as he could gain possession of the property and money left to James, he would hasten to France to enjoy his ill-gotten gains. Ihe time for the reading of the millionaire's will was at hand. А crowd collected, consisting of re- porters, friends of the deceased, and interested Den- ver people. Amid a hushed silence the attorney cleared his throat, tore open the envelope and un- folded a neatly written manuscript, reading as follows: “|. $10,000 to be divided among several friends and servants. (Their names.) 2. $500,000 to be distributed for charity, hos- pitals and societies. “3. $1,000,000 to be used in constructing a pub- lic library and adjoining park, bearing his own name. “4. $4,000,000 to be divided equally between the brothers James and Henry, or their heirs, if de- manded one month after initial reading of will. Mr. Hanks was among those present when the will was read. Не advanced toward the larger law- ver and insinuated that he was the brother, James. The lawyers bade him call one month from date to newspaper.

Page 15 text:

fish was tiring fast, that was evident, and with careful judgment he could be brought to gaff. He was evi- dently safely hooked, and it was now simply a ques- tion of tiring him out. Twice Emery had him within sight, and each time both men exclaimed in one breath: Forty pounds, if he’s an ounce!” Again and again the big man reeled him in, only to lose what he had gained by a game rush on the part of the fish. But at last the rushes grew rapidly shorter, each a little weaker than the one before, and then, Emery reeling in with extreme caution, the giant fish came slowly alongside the canoe and turned on his side, still beating the water weakly with his broad tail. Emery brought him close to the boat and, watching him like a hawk, waited expectantly for the gaff. But Pherry was used to having his guide perform that task for him, and simply sat entranced, waiting for some invisible hand to gaff the fish. Suddenly both men became aware of a slight, quickly recognized movement of the canoe. They were entering the rapids. Pherry jumped about wildly and plunged his pole to the bottom and tried to check the canoe. But to snub a canoe in a strong current and not have it turn broadside to the full force of the stream is not a task for a novice, and as the boat began to wabble uncertainly, Emery hissed between his set teeth: “Drop that pole, you antediluvian goat! Pick up that gaff and land this fish before he gets his wind. Quick now, do as I tell pou! But we're in the rapids! We'll be carried down over the falls and into the Devil's Track and up- set! cried Pherry, struggling wildly with the pole, trying to set the canoe's nose against the current. What if we are? howled Emery. “Pick up that gaff and land this fish!” But I'd rather loose the fish than drown. Take the gaff and land him yourself while I try to hold the boat. We'll never get him into the canoe if we get into the rough water below !” “You pot-bellied dispenser of рат-КШег!”” howled Emery in despair, as the big salmon showed evident signs of reviving; take that gaff and land this fish or I'll throw vou overboard.” Pherry gazed for one brief instant at the six-foot pillar of wrath towering over him, and then in sheer desperation dropped his pole and grabbed the gaff. The splash of the pole as it fell into the water beside the big fish caused the salmon to turn quickly. Pherry, observing the danger signal, made a wild dive with the gaff, but he was too late. The big fish was rested; bis tired muscles had gained renewed energy; his muddled head had cleared, and like a flash he was off, straight up stream, with the canoe drifting rapidly in the opposite direction. Emery did his best to check him, but, as though he realized that his own chance for freedom had come, the salmon kept on. The reel screamed and shrieked in despair as the line cut the water with swishing strokes; the frayed joint of the line shot from the spool, dove through the guides, caught and tangled itself at the tip; there was a sharp snap—and the fish was gone! Pherry sank to the bottom of the canoe in despair. Oh, if you'd only done as I told you to, he began; but catching the baleful glare of Emery's eyes, he stopped short. ‘That individual started to speak, but no words came. Then he deliberately jumped overboard, gave the canoe a vicious shove, and in a voice smothered with profound disgust, said: Get out of this, you——— ' the rest was unintel- ligible. The canoe, with the wild-eyed, terror-stricken Pherry grasping the gunwale in either hand, shot into а shallow reach of rapids, hung broadside on a bowlder, then slowly filled and sank, spilling the panic-stricken Pherry out. Fortunately there was а scant six inches of water at the spot—he would have drowned in a foot—and the little man struggled sputtering to his feet. As he felt his footing firm be- neath him his terror vanished, and anger took its place. He shook his chubby fists at Emery, stand- ing waist-deep in the current a few rods above him and howled: “You miserable lumber-jack, ГИ have you expelled from the club for this. You're no fisherman anyway. You handle a reel like an Italiian organ grinder!” Yes, and you handle a pole like a monkey on a stick! If I'd had a real man in the stern of that canoe I'd have landed that forty-pounder all right! “If I'd had a fisherman — such an accent Pherry put on that word— 'in the bow of that canoe that fish wouldn't be getting his breath in the big pool now. You ought to get back to the pill-counter where you came Нот,” retorted Emery hotly. “Think of it! А forty-pound salmon on a six-ounce fly rod lying practically dead within a foot of you, and you without sense enough under your number seven hat to gaff him! What were you waiting for? Did you think he was going to jump into the boat?” Well, how did you expect me to hold the boat and gaff him at the same time? I’m no professional guide, and I never claimed to be. The cold water, in which Emery stood to his waist, was rapidly cooling his temper, and he said more kindly: “Well, we practically had him landed anyway. If it hadn't been for an accident we'd have had him in the boat. Yes, that's so, assented Pherry, his teeth chat- tering in the cold morning air. It's just like killing duck and then losing him in the grass. It's а satis- faction to know that we had him practically landed. But the question is now, how are we going to get ashore?”

Page 17 text:

see whether his claim would be disputed ог not. 1 he larger part of the crowd immediately surged out of the room. Having learned of the whereabouts of Charles Sheridan, son of Henry Sheridan and only surviving heir to the Sheridan fortune, Hanks boarded a train bound for Cleveland. While on the train he laid his campaign of action. On leaving the train and board- ing a car marked Centerville, he soon picked up an acquaintance with an elderly man, a resident of Centerville. Through clever questioning and without arousing any suspicion in the mind of his fellow pas- senger, Mr. Hanks succeeded in obtaining facts that Frank Skeridan, aged about twenty-five, has been working as an accountant in the Centerville Commer- cial Bank for the last two years, and that he was an orphan. Mr. Hanks thanked his companion, left the car, and after walking about a mile or so found him- self in front of the main hotel in Centerville. Не immediately rented a room there. His baggage con- sisted of only a valise. That evening young Sheridan had a visitor, a Mr. Huntley, who was really Hanks. He represented himself as one of the secret partners of a noted mer- cantile firm. Не had been looking up Charles’ record, for he was in search of a young man whom he could implicitly trust to go to a certain city in Argentina and find out the prevailing conditiozs there. А com- peting firm intended to open up a large business there, and Huntley's firm wanted to get in ahead of them. Не himself could not go just now for he was bur- dened with business. He would give Charles $250 a month, for three months, besides totally defraying all his expenses. The youth readily consented, for here would be a good opportunity to see something of South America. Charles obtained a three months leave of absence from his employer. Не was fur- nished with a ticket for the steamer Omaha, which would take him to his intended destination. Не was to sail two days from date. This was Thursday. As Charles entered the “Omaha” he reached into his inside coat pocket for his ticket to hand to the ticket-taker. It was not there! А hurried search failed to reveal it. He seemed to remember leaving it at the hotel at which he had boarded during the last two days. Snatching up his grip, he bounded off the gang plank and dashed for the hotel, which was but a few blocks distant. Once there he obtained the key to his room and taking the stairs three at a time was soon looking for his ticket in the recently occupied rooms. In vain. Charles was nonplussed. The steamer would leave in about three minutes. Не opened his valise, went through his clothing, but of no avail. Не had taken several books along, and began to hunt through the leaves of these books. Between two pages of the last book, sure enough there was the missing member. Clutching the ticket in one hand and his grip in the other he wildly dashed for the boat. There was a strong wind blowing, and zip, He did not heed и. He flew towards the boat. Turning a corner he went pell- mell into a plump individual. The impetus caused him to fall backward. The grip went flying, but quick as a flash he was off without it, retaining, however. the ticket in a desperate clutch. Panting like a race horse he darted for the now near dock. То his intense dismay the steamer had already started, and was about fifteen feet from the dock. Charles sank to the ground. His hard run, collision with the obese person, and his disappointment had all but finished him. After resting for about a quarter of an hour he recovered and disappointedly turned his weary steps hotelward. He wondered what Huntley would say. On the way he bought a newspaper and to his amaze- ment his eyes caught the announcement that his uncle had died and left the bulk of his fortune to him. To make sure, he read and reread this announcement. He had formed an unaccountable distrust for Hunt- ley, and now it immediately occurred to him that Huntley might be wanting to get him out of the way so that he might in some manner get hold of some of the money left by Sheridan. On that account he decided to keep out of sight until the time appointed for the dividing of the fortune, and leave Huntley under the impression that he had sailed for South America on the steamer Omaha. The time for the division of the fortune was at hand. Charles, as the rightful heir, boldly stepped up to the lawyer and claimed his share of the fortune. Hanks started up from his chair, his mouth wide open, and his eyes actually bulging out of his head. His usually florid face turned white, and he sank into his chair, limp as a rag. No wonder he was so dis- conserted, for to the best of his knowledge Charles ought to be at the present moment in South America, and here he was and with him all hopes of acquiring a vast amount of filthy lucre were swept away. “Не is an imposter,” cried Hanks. “I am James Sheridan, and he is trying to impose upon you.” Quickly Charles retorted: “If he claims to be the brother of Mr. Sheridan he will surely be able to tell us on what shoulder his dead brother bore a scar.” Not daring to hesitate that worthy remarked: “Не bears a scar on his left shoulder.” That's not so, he has a scar on his scalp which he received in his boyhood days. Charles had remem- bered having heard his father tell of it. The corpse was unearthed and Charles’ statement was reiterated. As conclusive proof, young Sheri- dan presented Mr. Sloan, the president of the Center- ville Bank, and a well-known personage, to Mr. Wallman. Mr. Sloan told that Charles’ father was no other than Henry Sheridan, a friend of his, during the latter’s lifetime. Without further ado Hanks was arrested on the charge of fraud. His trial was short and the outcome was a five-year term in State's Prison. Meanwhile, Charles came into his own. off went his hat.