Commerce High School - Ledger Yearbook (Portland, OR)

Page 24 text:

Eighteen THE LEDGER which heiiifi impossihle, would in turn cause them to thinic that they were suffering from deUrium tremens, and therefore to believe that no one was coming at all. With the same systematic care and careful thought he entered the room. If space permitted, I would explain why he entered the room. This marked one of the greatest moments in the career of the Plunkville Police force. He found nobody, but on the floor before his astonished gaze spread a large, red blot. The sheri ff took one look at the spot, and though he had never swum in his life, he executed a technically perfect swan dive through the second story window. This action shows his diversity of talent. He later explained to me that one look was enough to convince him that the substance was blood, though it was the consistency of army soup; so he had decided to further his search by ascertaining whether there were any footprints on the side of the house. There is a mystery here, some place, by George! he exclaimed as he extracted his head from a mud puddle. After carefully searching the premises, even to the cracks in the floor and the leaves of the three musty volumes in the dingy library, he sat down in the kitchen to await developments. Fifteen minutes had not elapsed before a young girl and two young men appeared in the hallway. The Plunkville Police force took n o chances with these desperate criminals, so he lifted his revolver and fired two shots in rapid succession. In his hurry he did not notice that the gun was pointed the wrong direc- tion. The first bullet went over his left shoulder and killed a poor cow grazing harmlessly in the back yard. The second bullet hit the cast iron stove behind him, rebounded and struck him so hard in the back of the head that it knocked his cap over his eyes. He imagined that he had been attacked from the rear, and a terrible fight ensued with him- self. One of the young men came forward at the con- clusion of this awful conflict and offered to assist him. The doughty sheriff refused. Let all three of them ruffians at me again, by cracky! he shouted. This statement indicated the fighting spirit of the police force, and lost none of its effect because it was said after the sheriff real- ized that no one was attacking him. Vile murderers, you ' ll come to your end all right, by hokey! he exclaimed, pointing an accus- ing finger at the trio. This forceful statement, he later explained, was to cause them to break down — for he realized that he was dealing with desperate characters. After an interview in which the domineering personality of the sheriff was in full mastery of the situation, the three realized that it was hopeless to match their wits further against those of the Plunk- ville Police force. One of them impulsively blurted out his confession of the whole dastardly deed. The sheriff with slow and careful deliberation spat out his chew of Climax and listened to the tale, which we herewith present verbatim : We are all struggling actors, and we had no money with which to hire a hall, so seeing this va- cant house, we decided to use it for rehearsals. The substance you found on the floor was not blood at all. It was merely red water color which we used in our tragedy scene for a lack of better imitation blood. After so successfully solving this mystery, the Plunkville Police force walked to the road with the calm and reserved manner of one who knows he has done his duty well. The police force mounted his horse and rode awav in a body. Moonlight Lucille Dodson, S. P. Thoughts at Bedtime Amy Booth, S. P. The ribbon of moonlight over the bay Is a path to the land of dreams. Where mermaids glide in a shower of spray, The ribbon moonlight over the bay Glows, as the foam-crested billows sway With shimmering, moon-jewelled gleams. The ribbon of moonlight over the bay Is a path to the land of dreams. My thoughts at bedtime slowly slip. By memories softly swirled. Like a blue-grey phantom ship My thoughts at bedtime slowly slip. Then with the pleasures of this trip Of phantasies and golden worlds. My thoughts at bedtime slowly slip. By memories softly swirled.

Page 23 text:

THE LEDGER l Seventeen MILADY ' S BOUDOIR Marjorii; Paxgborn (Author ' s note: This title has nothing at all to ilo with the facts here- in presented. Owing to the delicacy of the material now published for the first time, it was conceived to completely disguise the nature of this document. This rightfully should he called, The Revelations of a Cor- respondent. ) Being closely associated with the smoothly manip- ulated mechanism of the Plunk ille Police force, I am qualified to speak with authority upon the secret and heretofore unrevealed methods of that organization. Undoubtedly these startling revela- tions will contribute much to the knowledge of Scotland Yard, which will no doubt make haste to award me a million dollars, but it hasn ' t done so yet. I am bound to divulge these facts in spite of the evil threats upon my life from notorious characters of the underworld. I feel it my duty to humanity to unlock these lips that have long been sealed upon the past. Let us follow the inner workings of the Phuik- ville Police force by a specific example. By inner workings I do not mean digestive processes. The case I refer to was staged in an ancient and dilapidated mansion on a gloomy hill outside the town. The house was darker than the river Styx at midnight, but it would have been heaven to an antique collector. It was in fine condition except that it needed a new porch, seven new floors, sev- entv-one window panes, and eighteen more bricks in the chimney. The domicile had a strange fore- boding atinosphere to the townspeople, for bad luck had followed everyone who had lived in it. Seven persons were known to have died there, and one even went so far as to get married in it. It had always possessed a strange lure for the younger generation of the town, and one of the greatest feats the youths could accomplish was to go to the haunted house at night. It was on one of these occasions that Slivers McGinnity, a Chi- nese lad, and two badly frightened boys, made cer- tain disco eries which I am about to relate, and which had a direct bearing upon the case so aptly sohed hy the able Plunkville Police. Noiselessly the ' crept up the rickety stairs of the old mansion. Then as Slivers gingerly turned the knob of the door on the landing, the portal was swung open by an unseen hand. Wildly the boys tumbled down, then stopped for breath ; they were horrified to hear a shot and a piercing scream. Slivers was seven shades whiter than any ghost could possibly have been when he reported the in- cident to his astonished parents. The parents with true civic pride and with utter disregard of fact re- ported the matter to the police force. I hesitate to make these revolutionary disclosures, but my mind is made up and I will continue at any cost to my peace of mind or love of truth. What did the police force do when this crisis presented itself? . ' t high noon the force mounted his horse and rode away in a body. Arrived at the dwelling, he stood in the door and shouted, Is anyone there? As no one answered in the negative he took it for granted that someone zvas there. This delicate bit of sleuthing should not be underestimated. To show the course of reasoning which his mind followed in propounding that question, let us consider his reasons as recently admitted to me in a personal interview. Reason 1. He wanted to know if anyone really were there. Reason 2. If anyone were there, he wanted him to know that he was there, too. His next step was toward the stairway. A sud- den creaking was heard to come from the upper regions. The sheriff quaked. His next step Avas toward the outside. Let it be understood that he was not moved by any sense of personal fear, for he was as brave as any man who lived, when he had a big chew of Climax in his mouth. Many a time I have seen his beard bristle in anger, and manv a time I have seen him grit his twenty-dollar- per-plate teeth in determination. He later broke down and confessed to me that he had gone out in the yard to search for footprints. He returned to the house and on hands and knees crawled up the stairway still looking for — if the reader doesn ' t know what he was looking for, I do not feel justified in committing myself. He succeeded in reaching the top of the stairs without making any more noise than if he had dragged a piano upside down behind him. The strategy in this mantcuver he later explained to me was to arouse any occupants from their slumbers and give them a fair fighting chance. The sheriff was a fair- minded man. Furthermore, the unearthly racket, according to his logic, would cause the desperadoes to think a whole zoo was coming up the stairway.

Page 25 text:

THE LEDGER [Nineteen TO BUY OR NOT TO BUY An Adventure IVith Shoe Salesmen I needed some shoes — two shoes, in fact. Now that may seem a trifle, considering the number that a centipede must buy, but to me — words are inade- quate. I had no idea, that bright afternoon when I started blythely down the street to find my pedal affinities, that the search would be a prolonged one. I approached this serious matter with a manner all too frivolous. If you had ventured to suggest such a preposterous thing, I would have instantly become indignant. Buying shoes a difficult affair! Going into a store, sitting down while a clerk fitted the shoes upon your feet, paying him (I ' ll admit that is the hard part) and walking away was a simple enough procedure! As I said before, I did not give the matter due consideration. During my lunch hour one day I indulged in the pastime which I believe my wife calls window-shopping, that of peering into the various store windows and tabulating in an orderly mind the various merits and demerits of the mer- chandise therein. In my case, however, the experi- ment was unsuccessful. My eye was attracted by an enticing display of radio equipment, and I was unable to tear myself away from it until I was 15 minutes late at the office. At the stroke of five I sallied forth again. I en- tered the first store I saw, and told the washed-out- looking clerk that I wanted a pair of shoes like those in the right-hand window, with square toes. Could you show them to me? he asked. I pointed them out. For your wife? he queried politely. Certainly not. But those are the latest sport shoes for the athletic girl, he replied, then continued glibly, Wide last, comfortable, with enough space to en- able the toes to exercise freely, low, flat heels, just the thing for — I turned and fled, leaving him talking. Several blocks further I found a store which catered only to men. I ent in and sat down in one of long row of upholstered seats. A patent- leathered-haired clerk came forward and with a bored air asked if there was anything that he could deu fo me. Realizing that, since he was doing me the favor of waiting upon me, the least I could do was to state my errand as briefly as possible, I answered meekly, Could — could ou fit me to a pair of shoes please ? Low heels, square toes — A pair of shoes? he asked languidly, with lifted evebrows, I feah that I shall have to call another clerk to se-ah-ve you. He strolled toward the back of the store. I waited patiently for 5 minutes, I waited impatiently for 10 — and then I left. After a block entirely void of shoe stores, I found one which looked promising. I entered and seated myself. A clerk bustled up. Well, well, what is it for you today? he asked. I ' d like a pair of shoes, I explained, low heels, square toes — We have just what you want, he interrupted, and hurried off. He returned in a second loaded with boxes. But I only wanted one pair of — Hold on, hold on, we ' ll have it in a minute, he said soothingly. He knelt and removed my shoe. There, in all its glory, was a hole the size of a dol ' ar, and no gold dollar at that. My wife had told me to be sure and buy me a new pair of socks before buying my shoes, that all my old pairs had darned places in them. Oh that radio equipment! I was sure the clerk was laughing up his sleeve. Dear me! I am sure that wasn ' t there when I put the sock on this morning, I said in a vain attempt to recover my self-respect. He jammed my foot down — as far as it would go — into a shoe. A perfect fit, he enthused, smooth, not a wrinkle, yet with plenty of room. I was sure you could wear a 7. I was equally sure that I could not, and told him so. So he ascended a ladder and brought from the dim heights of shelves another load of boxes. Here is just the thing you need, slighth ' pointed toe, which gives it a sophisticated look, narrow, to fit your aristocratic foot — in fact, you couldn ' t find a better shoe, if you searched for a vear. Come to think of it, my foot luas narrow. I had good ancestors, too. Evidently this man knew what he was talking about. I purchased the shoes and was walking out of th; store when the salesman rushed up. Here is a pair of socks that match your shoes perfectly, he said. So refined looking, their broad scarlet stripes are an exact replica of those which the Prince of Wales wears. I bought those, too, and departed. And this was the end of a perfect day. My wife, however, does not seem to rely upon the opinion of stray salesmen, and so she accompanies me now in all mv shoe-bu ing adventures.