Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

Page 24 text:

THE REFLECTOR Rough Roads £ T USTY, Gypsy caravans trailed along the road, which hardly de- I J served to be called by that name, and halted. The leader, who had been before them during the whole of the day, had given the signal. They had stopped before a beautiful site. Flowers, green grass, giant trees, and the necessary spring brook were a welcome sight to this band which must ever move on. Starting across the carpet of green, each drew rein at a desirable spot and made ready for an indefinite stay—indefinite because this leader whom they all obeyed had not a definite plan. How many years they had followed him! How many years they had depended upon this, their man, whom they worshipped and honored as a god! And yet, when the other young men of the party cast their eyes upon him, or when they caught the eyes of their sweethearts leaping at the sight of him, they wondered;—wondered, how came he here, how old was he, and how had he got his grip upon their people. Gypsies were they, and gypsy he was not. His arrival in the party had been unobtrusive, and his leadership unquestioned. He was the friend of all. His tall, splendidly molded form, and well developed muscles attracted notice, as he went from one van to another inquiring as to their possible comfort. His face told of breeding and a character not to be shaken. And yet, at this moment as he strode back and forth, a shade of something crossed it, a shade and look, which Serveet, his right hand man had once remarked, reminded him of an animal seeking out a prey, which had eluded him. Serveet,” he commanded we remain here for several months.” This news created something like a panic among the people. What was his purpose? Why this spot to stay at? It was, it is true, an ideal spot in itself, but ’twas only a farming section and very few farms at that. Well—,” and so they all ended. Pleasant days went by. All began to whisper of the change in their leader. One night, Serveet, who had become suspicious and worried over the prospects of this great master, noticed Titone, as he had been named by these people, slip from camp under cover of darkness. Gliding after him, Serveet finally found himself in a village several miles from camp. Hiding under each dark shadow, he saw Titone enter the village inn. Why had the leader come here? Serveet boldly opened the door and entered. Through all the smoke he spied an unoccupied table, in a cor- ner. Seating himself he glanced around, noticed Titone busily talking with a questionable looking man, so decided he would await results. 16

Page 23 text:

THE REFLECTOR That the hitch-hikers were learning is shown by the fact that on the third day out 315 miles were covered by one lift between Paoli and New Kensington, Pennsylvania, which is a manufacturing town a little north of Pittsburgh. The trip was made in a Pontiac coupe driven by a genial old engineer traveling from North Carolina to Minnesota. (This is not an avdertisement for the Pontiac people.) About 3 5 cents was spent on food and 50 cents for a bed in a Y. M. C. A. The following day 132 miles were covered and the goal reached. Thus approximately 68 5 miles were covered in four days. To reach this place $3.50 was spent. After three days in Cambridge Springs our hitch-hikers again take up their shoes, and strike out for Buffalo after having earned about six dollars on the golf links and rested their tired dogs”. They had a total of $9.50 for their return journey. The eighth day Buffalo and the Niagara were viewed and the night was spent in Williamsville, New York. This was the worst night of all for Williamsville is so small a town that no rooms could be found. A cold but sleepless night was spent in a box car. The next stopping place was Fayettsville which will ever be remem- bered for doughnuts which melted in one’s mouth and were purchased at 20 cents a half dozen. The following nightfall caught our wanderers marooned on the roadside five miles from the nearest town. A supperless night was spent in a hay barn. I say hay barn because today few barns hold hay. An inspection of most barns shows an old Ford and some out of date farm implements. Also, sleeping in the hay is not what some people think it is. The stiff hay pricks the skin and in the morning an hour must be spent picking hay from one’s clothes. The latter part of the journey took our travelers through the pic- turesque Mohawk Trail. The eleventh night was spent in an Albany Y. M. C. A. and the following night our travelers turned in at their own homes. All this time the weather was fine. The men who gave lifts were kind; many times offering meals and suggestions. Many were going long distances and were glad of companionship. A distance of approximately 1,187 miles was covered in nine days of real hitch-hiking. This averaged 132 miles a day which is hard in any man’s country. Towns such as Trenton, Philadelphia, Erie, Buffalo, Syracuse and Albany were visited. In all it was a pleasant experience; making our youthful travelers more sophisticated by bringing them into contact with various kinds of people and showing them what they could do when forced to depend on their own resources. Yanowicz ’29. 15!

Page 25 text:

THE REFLECTOR Hour after hour went by, and the only progress noticeable, was the evident drunkenness of the man, whom Titone had engaged in con- versation. The place had become marvelously quiet. Then, I tell you that guy was taken in,” came from a pair of dirty drunken lips. As if by magic, the man became sober after his rough exclamation. Shaking his great head as a man in doubt, he leaned forward and cried hoarsely, God, Noame himself”. Crazed, he arose, knocked the table over, and advanced. The next moment the room was in darkness. When all was quiet again, Titone, Serveet, and the big brute, had disappeared. Back at camp we find that Titone and Serveet had been able be- tween the two of them, to drag the brute from the inn. In Titone’s camp, removed from the other camps by many yards, a strange sight was to be seen. Titone’s prisoner, gagged and tied in one corner, Serveet with large eyes fastened on the man; Titone pacing nervously up and down the length of the tent. Bymomth,” the leader finally exclaimed, I’ve watched for you these years. 'Twas only recently I caught sight of you in Carston, and have followed you up to the inn, where you were tonight. I will give you ten minutes to reveal everything. After that I do not answer for the results. I don’t wish to threaten, but you are one, and I have many—” Titone spoke tersely. Five minutes had elapsed, and the prisoner, who had given up all hope of escape, was squirming uncomfortably in his corner. Several times he wetted his lips to speak and finally broke the tension with, You were not the murderer!” I am glad you know that,” Titone said softly, and one instantly sensed the wonderful relief in his voice. But more.” I have no more to say,” was the response. The threat still holds good,” came the retort. I must know all. Who murdered Lord Geymore? Why? And where is Helene? Come man, answer!” Well,” the brute blurted, that night when you went to see Lord Geymore in his den, to ask for the hand of his daughter in marriage, I had come to get certain papers and money from the Lord. Jake, my companion, and I, made our way into the house, passed down the halls into the den, but we had not known of your presence at the time. On sight of you, I instantly pulled out my gun as you know, but you were too quick for me, and the next thing I knew your bullet had grazed my arm. Jake had taken aim at you at the same time. Unfortunately his bullet found Lord Geymore. When Geymore fell, we immediately es- caped and you were found with the gun and its missing bullet in Lord Geymore. That is all, except that when the trial day came you had escaped. The people have never forgotten it, nor have they learned that you, Baron Noame, were not the murderer.” 17