Cleveland High School - Legend Yearbook (Portland, OR)

 - Class of 1925

Page 21 of 78

 

Cleveland High School - Legend Yearbook (Portland, OR) online collection, 1925 Edition, Page 21 of 78
Page 21 of 78



Cleveland High School - Legend Yearbook (Portland, OR) online collection, 1925 Edition, Page 20
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Page 21 text:

THE LEDGER [Fifteen D64 9 8 10j2q 3ka57 C a 10 8 9 4 q j 2 6 3 k 7 5 S 5 q 9 j 3 k a 10 2 7 6 4 8 H k a 5 j 10 q 6 9 3 7 8 2 4 After a moment ' s perusal he absently handed it back to Gaffon. This is not the formula, Emil. Our agent said it was in plain handwriting;, not in typed cipher. ' ou have failed miserably. Vou will remember that you are to sail tonight. Back at headquarters K-19 was speaking to his chief. No doubt Bradley ' s assassin, ' Lithpy Lou ' or an unknown, left him for dead, but while a spark of life still remained, he tried to leave a message tell- ing of what had occurred. He died before com- pleting his writing, but enough was finished to give us the clew that Emil Gaffon is probably the un- known assailant. The parrot was on the desk and happened to pull the card inside the cage. When Carson moved the bird he failed to notice the paste- board. A signal light flashed on the desk, and the chief picked up the phone. Hello. Then followed silence while he listened to the person at the other end of the wire. Yes, absolutely. Rush it up here at once, he resumed. Then he turned to K-19 as he replaced the receiver. Gaffon has been caught. Just in the nick of time, too, for he has tickets for the Aquitania which sails tonight. He did not have the formula on him, but the inspector downstairs iust reported that he has found a paper in Gaffon ' s pocket on which is written a code message. He is bringing it here now. The elevator door slammed out in the hallway and a man in a neat gray uniform stepped into the office. He handed the chief a paper and then left. Of course you know, K-19, that Gaffon is a famous spy. We have not been able to discover which government he serves. As the chief was speaking he had been unfolding the slip of paper. It was the one that Gaffon had shown to the ambassador. Doesn ' t seem to be any of the usual ciphers, he muttered. Then showing it to K-19 he said. The capital letters at the beginning of the lines must be the ke s. Idly the chief thumbed the deck of cards which had been found on Bradley ' s desk. Suddenly glanc- ing at these cardboards he said, Say, these num- bers, like these on the cards here, don ' t run above ten, and the ' a ' could mean ace; the ' j ' , jack: the ' q ' , queen, and the ' k ' , king. D, C, S, H could mean diamonds, clubs, spades and hearts, chimed in K-19. For a moment the chief remained silent, thinking, then he said, As I read off these numbers you find the cards and turn them face downward, all in one pile. He started at the row believed to be diamonds and read across. He did the same with the other rows. When he had finished the cards lay in a stack. He surveyed the result and saw, on the side of the assembled deck a word in purple ink. It was cage . On each of the other three sides was another word. The four together were finally made to read, Parrot cage false bottom . A month later the chief was sitting in his office talking to K-19, who had just returned from an assignment in the south. Quite a clever idea of Bradley ' s, wasn ' t it? the chief asked. ' es, no one would think of looking under the bottom of a parrot ' s cage for such an important document. But saw what is going to happen to Gaffon? He is sentenced to be hanged. In the field within the walls of the great federal prison where Emil Gaffon was held awaiting his death, a trial of the famous Purple Ray was being made. The preying light was focused upon a happy, barking little dog. It died, sacrificing its life that America might learn to control its great weapon, the Ray. From out of the prison dashed a con ict with the guards giving mad chase. The fleeing man rushed unheedingly into the path of the Ray. Emil Gaffon, murderer and spy, crumpled into an inert, lifeless heap. He had been but the play- thing, the veapon of his king.

Page 20 text:

Fniirieett THE LEDGER Bradley had evidently been working at his desk, for when I returned home he was sitting there, dead. A cunning gleam crept over the detective ' s face. Returned home? he snapped. Yes, Bradley had an appointment at the War Department and as there would be no work to do here today he told me I could have the time off. I left this morning at ten o ' clock. Then how do you account for being back so earlv? It was only three o ' clock when you dis- covered the body. I was going to a picnic, but it rained, and I changed my mind and shot pool. Then I ate at a restaurant down town and walked home. In the rain?, snapped the detective. No, the rain had stopped, replied Lithpy with a grin. What were you going to do at the picnic Pick pockets, my brave safe-cracker? queried K-19. The roguish look came back on Lithpy ' s face but it was apparent that he was serious. Naw, I got a girl now, mither detectiff. Sheepishly he made the statement. Then he added, She didn ' t want to go out into the rain. Could it be that this gentleman crook was going straight and was in love?, wondered the in- vestigator. Still he might be trying to make a last haul in order to get money enough to live on after getting married. This murder might be the result of trying to get the f(}rmula to sell, thought K-19. He changed the subject abruptly. Did your employer do all the work on the Ray himself? Yes. He was the onh ' one that knew the formula, then? That ' s right as far as I know. A pause, then the detective resumed his question- ing. How many written copies of the formula are there? Just the one that was kept in the safe. Idly the detective picked up the deck of playing cards scattered upon the inventor ' s desk. Whose are they? he asked. Bradley ' s, was the reply. When puzzled over some detail of the Ray he would often play soli- taire. For a moment the secret service man considered ; then he said, That ' s all for the present, ' Lithpy. ' Don ' t try to leave the house. It is guarded. But before you go, would you mind taking that parrot off the desk? Carson picked up the cage and hung it upon its hook; then left the detective alone in the room. Sitting down at the desk, the government agent considered the facts so far in the case. Carson knew where the formula was kept. He had plenty of time in Avhich to commit the crime. Motive is not lacking. The invention could be sold to a foreign government for a fortune. K-19 became aware of the fact that he was still holding the deck of cards in his hand. Solitaire, he mused. Absently he counted the pasteboards. Only fifty-one. To make sure he counted them again with the same result. Certainly Bradley must have had a full deck, he thought. Investigation showed that the Ace of Spades was missing. When a search of the desk and the papers scattered about the safe failed to bring the missing card to light, the detective sat at the desk thinking over the mystery. He was startled a moment later. Throw up your hands, shouted a voice behind him. He obeyed, and as he did so, jumped to his feet and whirled around. Then he laughed sheep- ishly and lowered bis upraised hands. Bradley ' s parrot, swinging in its cage, was the cause of the disturbance. You ' re smarter than 1 gave you credit for, laughed K-i9, didn ' t know you could talk, he said as he advanced toward the cage. What the dickens ' he shouted, snatching a card out of the cage. It was the Ace of Spades. On it was scrawled in a shaky hand, Get Emil Gaffon, he — and the message stopped. At one of the foreign embassies in Washington the representative of a great European nation sat at his desk. He was speaking to a shabbil) dressed man, Emil Gaffon. ■ ou have followed the instructions? queried the ambassador. Yes. Then give me the formula. Hesitantly Gaffon replied, It was not there. You are certain? I am positive. After considering the startling news for a moment the ambassador spoke. Your mission has failed, Emil. His Majesty will not be pleased. Gaffon bowed his head. I must return to the homeland. There is no more that I can do. You are certain that you could not have missed the formula, Emil? Yes, I searched the desk; I opened the safe; I looked in the books; I tried everything, even his pockets. Your report has been made, Emil. I can say no more. You will take tonight ' s boat for the homeland. Here are your tickets and money. Do not forget that you must pay with your life before divulging anything concerning this undertaking. Gaffon took a paper from his pocket. I found this in the safe, he said, handing it to the ambas- sador. It was a strip of common stationery on which were typed four rows of figures and letters.



Page 22 text:

Sixteen] THE LEDGER A DYING EXPERIENCE By Anne Blackler I was dead and I knew I was dead. There was absolutely no doubt whatsoever about it. What is more, I also knew where 1 was. Now, I always pride myself upon my extraordi- nary ability to guess about things and be right about it. Anyone can guess about any particular thing, but to guess and do it correctly is an entirely dif- ferent matter. Such was the case here. I knew I was dead, and, after a few moments concentrated thought, I even guessed where I was and was cor- rect about it, too. Yes, I was dead. In my nose was the strong odor or fresh varnish. With my bare foot, I felt the smooth sides of the narrow box I was in. Lifting my hand, I touched the varnished top. Then, too, it was so clo;.e and hot in that box ; I never had been so hot ! I began wondering if I ' d see any of my old friends and enemies here. I expected to see a few of the old gang, and, yes, some of those very wise school teachers. I began to think of the things I ' d say to them. My thoughts were of rather a foolish nature and I became confused as that heat irrew more and more unbearable. Let me out! I want out of this hot-box! I should also like to see the old familiar faces and my teachers as well. Let me out of here! This I seemed to scream in a shrill, wailing, falsetto voice. Then, I was answered by a long, piercing shriek which burst forth at intervals of but a few seconds. 1 also heard terrible confusion and grind- ing noises. All this time, I was being suffocated by that intense heat. Desperately I kicked out with my bare foot, only to feel a strong hand clasp my foot and — pinch my leg! That was adding insult to injury. What is more, my leg was pinched in a manner which con- vinced me that it was evidently a habit of theirs — to pinch peoples ' legs so cruelly. I was choking with indignation when a deep voice bellowed in my aching ears, Boston next stop, Sah. All out fob Boston! I sat up with a jerk and whacked my head un- kindly on the top of that box. I was positive that I not only burst open my head, but splintered that wooden top and, of course, ruined its extra fine coat of varnish. Oh, bother that old box-top, it was my head that hurt me the most! When my scattered thoughts began to assemble once more, I realized where I was. I was in an upper berth of a train bound for Boston. It was the darkey porter who had pinched me into wake- fulness, thus ending my nightmare wherein I thought myself to be dead and in the land of the Hereafter where it is HOT! As I grumbled down the aisle to the dining car for some breakfast, I vowed I ' d never again eat another extra piece of pie for my evening dessert. Told by a Wrecked Ship By Kenneth L. Collins, S. P. One time men looked on me with pride. As swiftly did I sail. The mighty sea when it was calm — And in its roughest gale. I loved the ocean ' s chuckling voice Beneath my curving prow; I loved the saddened sea gull ' s notes, I loved it all, but now — I lie a storm tossed derelict Upon this wretched shore. Half covered by the trees and grass. To lie for evermore.

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