Farmington High School - Laurel Yearbook (Farmington, ME)

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16 THE LAUREL There stood revealed to them a tall, broad, well built body topped with a fine head and a face that was almost boyish with ex- tremely black deep-set eyes and black hair. It had to be done, he said, it was the only way out. Well, said Doug, always thinking of the other fellow, let 's see what he did to that poor chap in there. I 'm afraid, said the strange inter- loper, that he did not damage him much. Why not? inquired Anthony. Because it 's a dummy, answered their uninvited guest. Now that that is over, who is the dead man and who are you? asked the suspi- cious Brent. First, I'll tell you about myself, was the answer. I'm james Donnovan of the United States Secret Service and that, indicating the dead man, is Horatio Bento, the great natural scientist, who has been missing for the past eight months. While studying the origin of the huge spiders of South Africa, he was bitten by one, which drove him insane with pain and worked on his mind to such an extent that he believed himself one. He would go smashing and spitting through his cell for he had been placed in an insane asylum. He would reach for the warden with those claw-like hands whenever he came to touch him. Day before yesterday, for it 's after two now, he got away and disappeared. I was given the job when the chief of police got your friend's message. I decided that Bento would know that he had not finished you and would return to do so tonight. Therefore I put the dummy in your hall and trusted to luck that because of his in- tense state of insanity, multiplied by his failure to kill you last night, he would not see the difference and he did not. Tonight I thought my plan would fall through be- cause the lights were on and he could see you so I turned them off. Thanks awfully, old man, said Tony. I want you to come up to dinner tomor- row, and I know about the cloth now be- cause there is a hole in your sleeve, and now I am going to try to get some good old-fashioned sleep. Good-night. Harry Huf, 28. ' .l...1l. CHAMPIONS RIDAY was the day of the big game. It was to be between the Falmouth High School and the Pocasset School. The Pocasset School was a well known private school for boys. Pocasset had been the State champion in basketball the year be- fore. This year the High School had deter- mined to win. Each school had won every game it had played and now the day was drawing nearer when the two teams would fight for the final victory in the Falmouth gymnasium. Each team was practicing very hard, especially the High School team. It seemed as the time for the game drew nearer that everything was going against them. Their coach had pneumonia and the best player, Tom Moore besides spraining his wrist was now ill and unable to practice. Friday night, the 13th, came and the Po- casset boys arrived with their cheers and boasts. The game was called at eight o'clock, but at seven the huge gymnasium was almost full and more people came pouring in. Almost all the High School students were already there and the cheer-leader was waving his arms wildly about, the hall fairly shaking with the cheers. Across the hall the cheers were answered by the Pocasset boys who had come with their team. From seven until eight the contest was by cheers, each school trying to outcry the other. Five minutes of eight came and the op- posing team came on the floor and began to shoot for baskets. At a nearby house another battle was raging. Tom Moore declared that if he

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THE LAUREL 15 window blow inward, and a shadowy form enter and lower the window. Anthony, edging along the wall to the light switch, bumped into a chair. Although the noise was hardly audible, just as the lights came on Brent saw the form swiftly climb the stairs and enter a room. Looking' at the window, he saw caught beneath it a tiny piece of black cloth and said to Anthony, It 's the same as the man wore we saw at the window. just as Anthony bent to look at it, the lights went out. They have pulled the main switch, he cried and ran for the door just as the Thing , as they had named the huge spider, emerged. Anthony, knowing that he could not stop in time to avoid a colli- sion, almost cried out as he remembered those horrible clutches. Suddenly a black clad arm grasped him around his waist. He felt himself raised in the air and placed on the stairs. Then the shadowy form dis- appeared. Looking. he saw the Thing approach- ing Brent who was back to it and cried, Look out, Doug, it 's behind you. With a bound Doug cleared the library table and was beside Anthony. All right, he cried, let 's go, and started up the stairs three at a time. Gaining the ,top they looked down and saw the Thing laboriously climbing after them. Without second thought they raced along the long hall and descended the back stairs, which led to the kitchen, continued through it, waking old Tom, the colored servant, and opened the door to the dining room where they were astonished to see the large light flicker and gain its full power. Brent started to speak when Anthony grasped his arm and pointed to the switch which they had left behind them. As they advanced into the room, he saw a black cold arm grasp around the edge of the door, find the switch and turn off the light. In. the darkness they sensed that the arm was being followed by a body and that a long arm was beckoning them to follow. As though in a trance they obeyed. The unknown mounted the stairs and continued along the corridor to the room of Anthony and opened the door. The light streaming forth into their faces blinded them for a short time and forced them to turn their eyes away. When they again looked into the room they both shud- dered. For lying on the floor was the form of a man and bending over him was a short, thick-set man clad in a dark grey uniform of a strange type, whose iron-grey beard and hair were matted and clotted with dried blood. While they watched, they saw this strange person slowly drop to his hands and knees and with teeth bared like some fero- cious animal advance.to the still form on the floor. A door slammed, both Douglas and Anthony jumped, while the strange in- truder slowly turned and fastened strong, gleaming green eyes on them, and slowly approached them with a peculiar, spider- like motion. Anthony and Douglas stood rooted to the Hoor, having neither the strength or will power to move. They stood there, growing sleepy and their vision hazy, while that strange monster drew slowly nearer and nearer them. When but a few feet away, he rose to his feet and stretched long, talon-like hands to within a foot of their throats, teetered back and forth, and was just gathering himself to spring at them, when a black clad arm was thrust between their heads. This arm was headed by a short-nosed, ugly looking automatic pistol which was discharged point blank into that horrible face. Douglas and Anthony, thus aroused from the stupor into which they had fallen, turned only to be confronted by the same black clad, ghost-like person, when a hand slowly ascended and snatched the mask from the face of the black clad man.

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THE LAUREL 17 couldn't play in the game at least he was going to see it. The doctor said that Tom was going to stay at home, but finally he gave in and Tom was taken to the game. As Tom came into the hall pandemonium broke out in Falmouth's cheering section. A whistle blew. The opposite teams took their places on the floor. The referee began, This game is between the Pocasset School and Falmouth High. Pocasset shooting for the basket on my left. Scorers! Timers! Ready, Falmouth! Ready Pocas- set The game was on. How the minutes fled. How the hall rang with cheers. The timer's whistle blew. First quarter. Score 6-4 in favor of Falmouth. Soon they were playing again. How fast their slim lithe bodies ran following the ball and stopping the passes of their opponents. Another quarter. The game was half over. Score 15-14 in favor of Pocasset. At the end of the third quarter the score was 18-15. Falmouth was falling behind. Pan- demonium reigned in the Falmouth ranks. Tom Moore leaped from his seat. It had been hard for him to keep from leaping before from his seat. It had been hard for him to keep from joining the game, but now he had done it. It didn't matter to him that he was sick and had a sprained wrist. What did matter was that Falmouth was losing and he couldn't sit still and see that. Tom raced to the dressing rooms, donned his basketball togs and raced back again. When he appeared ready to play, it seemed as if the building would fall. Such noise had never been heard in Falmouth before. Tom had his wrist bound and strapped, then the game began. Tom was every- where. He stopped the ball and by brilliant passes across the hall and back he got two baskets. His presence seemed to encourage the Falmouth boys, for they were accus- tomed to play with him. As the time for the timer's whistle drew nearer and nearer, the boys flew faster and faster. It was a race with time. The whistle blew. Each Qu team gathered together and cheered the other. Falmouth won by 19-18. Tom Moore had saved the day. Falmouth had kept its promise and re- ceived the silver cup awarded to the State Champion in basketball. K. Bailey, ,25. Al THE JUDGE'S STORY EACHING the brow of the hill a pleasing sight met my weary eyes. As the steep incline had quite taken my breath, I feasted my eyes on the landscape. I was convalescing in a little town in the vicinity of Cork and the morning being a rare blending of sunshine and capering breeze, I had ventured on a walk through the neighboring countryside. The beauty of the scene before me lay perhaps in its very homeliness. I saw a little cottage of rough plaster, weathered into a soft gray, and a miniature duck pond nearby in which the white birds swam lazily about in the sun. Across the stream was a gnarled ap- ple tree in full bloom, its delicate beauty mirrored in the water below. I might have been gazing at a rare painting, so perfect was every detail. Suddenly, a merry whistle interrupted the tranquil scene and a boy leaped over the garden fence. He was slight of stature and lithe as a fawn. Another boy, apparently older and of a stockier build, followed more sedately. They entered the house and the aroma of dinner floated to my hungry nostrils. As I had wandered too far to re- turn for my noonday meal, I resolved to see the intefior of the little house. It was very plainly furnished. There was no tablecloth on the rough-hewn table on which a little old lady had just placed steaming bowls of porridge. When I had made known my errand, the little woman cordially welcomed me to par- take of their meager fare. Her name, I learned, was Mrs. O'Flarrity. She pre- sented me to her husband, a small, red-