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

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— ы x Lei A Bay ercival ! Percival Humphrey! Percival Humphrey Reginal Jones!” shouted Lucille, his ador- ing wife, to the figure that was slowly descending their brown stone steps in the heart of the city. “Yes, love, he called as he turned around. “Will you go to the library with me when you get home this afternoon?” Lucille asked. Certainly, sweetheart, he said. One more kiss, and off he went for five hours of work, and then. Ah! He would see Lucille again. The hours rolled on. At 2:30 P. М. his figure bounded up his steps. He thrust himself into the house. But! Where was Lucille? “Dearest Percival: Have gone to Chinatown to buy an oriental din- ner gong for Aunt Julia. Sorry about the Library. “Lucille.” “Lucille to Chinatown,” he gasped. Oh! What shall he do? Chinatown where murderers lurked, daggers flew, drunkards abounded, opium dens flour- ished! His precious Lucille was there. Oh! He must save her. Hatless he dashed toward Chinatown. The streets grew narrower and dirtier. Everywhere there was a gloomy, evil orienetal aspect. What did he care? He must find Lucille. Ah! There was the shop where they sold oriental dinner gongs. Probably his Lu- cille was there. He scanned the place. No—but yes—there was a woman sitting with her back toward him at the farther end of the shop. Only her black hair showed. Let’s see. Did Lucille have black hair? Yes! It must be she. At last she was safe. He dashed over to her and cried, “Lucille.” Horrors! Not his blue-eyed beautiful Lucille, but a squint-eyed, yellow-faced Chinese woman. With a grasp in his throat he fled from the shop. Maybe someone at this moment was thrusting a dagger into Lucille’s throat. She was now probably a corpse, bloody and cold. Oh! Не must find her, dead or alive. So in and out of the gloomy alleys he wanders. Suddenly a blood-curling shriek rent the air. It come from the building at his side. It must be Lu- | нашли | H. R. 202 A. M. | HON. PERCIVAL HUMPHREY REGINALD JONES cille, his precious! They were probably murdering her. Up the filthy steps he bounded. Another shriek came from the door in front of him. “Oh, God! Don't let them kill her, he prayed. He burst into the room. “Lucille, my darl No Lucille met his eyes. Only evil-eyed Chinks were squatting on the floor smoking opium. Where is she? he cried. A gun was raised toward him. behind. Where is she? | heard her shriek, my darling Lucille, Percival explained. “I gave dat shriek,” a grinning Chink replied. Melican man al'ays wanta be here. He hear a shriek. He try save shrieker. We shriek when Melican man pass house. Melican man rush in to save woman. We ask money, по get—we kill him,” was the laconic exp lanation of the Chink between puffs of his pipe. Percival Humphrey Reginald Jones closed his eyes. He had been fooled. His Lucille was not there. Money, or—” the tone was suggestive. Percival gulped. The dagger and the pistol were uncom- fortably close. He slowly handed over his wallet, containing half his week's salary. Dazed, he found himself outside on the pavement. There was now no hope for Lucille. Slowly he re- turned home, the tears streaming over his face. He opened the door of his empty house. Wha-a-t! His Lucille—his sunny-eyed beauty stood before him. “АҺ, sweetheart, how glad I am to see you. I had the loviest time this afternoon, she said. ' he gasped. Charlotte called up and invited me to the theatre, so I didn't go to Chinatown. But darling Percival, what has happened? she asked as she beheld his half-dried tears. “No-o-thing, sweetheart, he murmured. Later, turning his empty pockets inside out, “Меуег again, swore the Hon. Percival Humphrey Reginald Jones. EM A dagger from