Conneaut High School - Tattler Yearbook (Conneaut, OH)

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8 THE TATTLER to add to the confusion, the poor animals at the back of the shed were screaming and rearing in useless endeavors to escape. The roof was afire in several places and the heat was becoming unbearable. It was plainly of no use to resist further and so Lieutenant Lawrence displayed a white handkerchief through the door and the firing ceased. The little party hastened out of the shed as it fell to the ground a crackling, roaring heap of flames, and surrendered themselves to the Mexican commander. The animals, which had finally broken away, were caught again and securely fastened to the wagon and tbe prisoners were disposed of so that they could not escape. A council of war was now held near the wagon so that the “coward” plainly heard all that was said. It was finally decided that since the prisoners refused to tell as to the whereabout of the dispatches, that they should be shot at sunrise. The council broke up and the wagon was left alone on the silent plain. The stars came out and shed their dim light over the scene. All was quiet and peace prevailed where only a few' short hours ago turmoil and death reigned. The silence of the night was broken by the jests of the Mexicans who were encamped in the distance around the burning ruins of the little shed, the stamping of the horses or the distant howl of the coyote. A strange calm came over the man in the wagon as though the night herself had imparted some of her soothing qualities to him. The happenings of the day appeared to him as he thought them over and over again but a toad, horrible dream, and ibe buried his face in his arms and wept with shame at his cowardice. Why was it that he was born such a coward? Why must he suffer so? And then the words of the Mexican commander fame to him again, “They must be shot at sunrise.” What a dishonorable end for those who had borne so much for their country’s sake! But they must not be shot! Surely there—why could he not save them himself? ' His presence was not known to the Mexicans. He could dig up the d’s-patches, seize one of the horses and ride to the fort. It could not be very far away, and it was the only chance for himself as well as the prisoners, for he would surely be discovered in the morning. He felt a new sensation of calmness and strength such as he had never known before in all hi3 life come over him and he resolved to make the attempt. It was at least better than doing nothing. Cautiously he felt his way out of the wagon. The fire had burned low and the camp was lost in slumber. Slowly he felt his way over to the n'ace where be knew the dispatches to be buried. The subdued light from the dying fire was just enough for him to locate the spot. Hastily he dug up the papers and turned to leave when he saw a Mexican sitting bolt upright. intently watching him. It was the spy “Miguel!” What should be done? He dared not shoot for it would arouse the camp and kill all chances of escape or rescue. He felt for his knife and before the astonished Mexican knew what had happened there was one man less to answer the roll call in the morning. The “coward” now hurried over to the horses and was soon galloping off in the direction of the fort. Before the Mexican camp was astir the next day, it was surrounded by American troops and the Mexicans became prisoners while those whom they had condemned became free. As the morning sun shed its first rays of light over the silent plain, the wagon again started out for the fort, but it was no longer driven by a coward but by a hero of heroes.

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THE TATTLER came into range the carbines began to crack. One Mexican threw up his hands and lurched out of ihis saddle and soon after one of the cavalrymen fell in the dust, never to rise again. But the wagon still rolled on. As for the coward, he was crouched in one corner of the lurching vehicle, his eyes dilating with terror, shrinking, trembling and groaning, a piteous excuse for a man, indeed! But this state of affairs could not go on forever. Something must be done. They now swung out into the plain again. The mules were showing signs of exhaustion and would not last much longer, but, for once, fortune favored the hard-pressed detachment. At one side of the road, upon a little sand knoll, was a small, deserted shanty, and as soon as Lawrence saw it, he shouted back, “Make for the house, boys; it’s our only chance.” The wagon swerved out of the road and came to a halt in front of the shanty. The men dismounted, unhitched the panting, sweating mule3 and tied them together with the dusty, foam-flecked horses, to some half rotted posts behind the house. Meanwhile Lieutenant Lawrence, hastily drew the dispatches from his pocket and, when he thought himself unwatched by anybody, scooped a hole in the sand, thrust in the dispatches and marked the spot by carelessly throwing a large stone on it. He did not wish any of the men to know of the whereabouts of the dispatches for fear that under threats they might possibly tell, but the “coward” who had remained in the wagon, either because he was too afraid to move, or because in his mind it would be the least likely to be searched, saw the lieutenant in the act of burying the papers although he was so excited that the significance of the action did not come to him until later. The horses were soon tied and the men hastened into the shed and barred the rickety door just in time to escape the flying bullets of the first of the Mexican troops. Before assigning the men to their posts. Lieutenant Lawrence, said, “Boys, this may be the last time we’ll ever see the light of day, but let us show these Mexican troops that the American people still have some few grains of patriotism left and if we must die, let us die as becomes brave men.” Xot a word was spoken in reply to the lieutenant’s inspiring speech, for the feeling was too intense for expression. After shaking hands with the men he calmly assigned them to their posts. Meanwhile the Mexican troops had dismounted and were cautiously approaching the shanty, keeping up an incessant firing. The bullets whizzed through the old building and. with a short gasp, one of the men fell with a bullet through his brain, but tibe men never flinched, steadied as they were by the brave example and calm voice of their leader. “Hold your fire, boys, until you can see the whites of their eyes,” he said, “save your ammunition and make every shot count.” Slowly the Mexicans approached until they began to think the men in the shanty had all been killed, then the rifles of the besieged spoke out sharply and each bullet found its mark. This disconcerted the Mexicans somewhat for. although they were anxious to capture the little band, still they did not wish to lose any men. Accordingly they drew back out of range and held a discussion. But it was getting toward dark and the thought that the party in the shanty might somehow escape during the night urged the Mexicans forward again. Before the little party was fairly aware of it the Mexicans launched down upon them with irresistible force. Another gurgling cry, and one more of the trusty little band was gone. The cabin was now filled w'ith smoke, flying bullets and splinters an

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THE TATTLER 9 A HALLOWE’EN STUNT. J. K. About one hundred years ago on the beautiful shores of Lake Erie there was situated a quaint and industrious old burgh called Conneaut. The prominence of this old city in the (histories of today lies in the fact that it was the home of the famous and now world renowned institution of learning known as C. H. S. There were some very notable as well as re markable characters associated with the institution at that time. The most prominent instructor, perhaps, was Mr. J. E. Helman, whose famous “Study Hall System” ihas been handed down to modern times. Mr. V. R. Henry was another of its famous teachers who was a scientist of no mean ability and his wonderful discoveries in chemistry and physics as well as “bugology,” burden the pages of modern text books. There were also some very prominent students who attended school not only for the education they might acquire but to have a part in some deviltry as well. School had been in session about seven weeks. The October frosts had painted the thills and valleys with gold and crimson, the bluish clouds of autumn haze hovered on the distant horizon. Hallowe’en was near at hand. The Hallowe’ens of previous years had been filled with depredations which had caused the hair of some of the participants to stand straight up. it was the plan of a so-called bunch of “Ruf Necks” to break all records by one of their “stunts.” Albert Hall, usually called “Abe,” was recognized by the members of this gang to be leader. Abe’s mind was full of dreams and plans as he made his way to the school on a bright morning about a week before that eventful night (Hallowe’en). He met Jite and Hughie on the way and the three talked very confidentially until they arrived at school. Lessons were not at all interesting, the sections dragged slowly, the day was indeed a dreary one for these three. After school they met and arranged tiheir plans. The coming Thursday eve would be Hallowe’en. On that night Jite and Hughie were to have two canoes hidden in the bushes about one hundred yards from an old stone bridge that crossed the river near a place called Rocky Point. There were two other members of the bunch, “Micky” Green and Clifford Childs. All were to meet at the bridge at ten o’clock. Micky” was to bring a bucket of white paint and Clifford two brushes. Tt was no wonder that Abe did not have his lessons when Thursday came, his head was all a whirl and he was sentenced to that awful forty minutes in the Study Hall after school. Clifford went home from school, sat down and attempted to study, (a thing quite uncommon for him), but he could not apply himself. It did seem to him as though the sun would never sink below the distant woods. Five o’clock—six o’clock—oh, how long the hours seemed! At last at nine-thirty he stepped from the porch and walked quickly in the direction of the bridge. When he arrived all were there. They stood about in a semi-circle while Abe told them the place they were to attack. “Now, fellows,” he began, you all know the way we have been treated, many times we have taken the blame for various pranks that have been committed, when we should have done otherwise. Prof. Smith we think is at the bottom of it, and we will show him ‘some stunt’ tonight. He has been very aristocratic since he received his dowry from