Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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THE ECHO 19 carefully the blood-smeared face and clotted hair of the Professor. A growl burst from the lips of the dead man. With raving lips and foaming mouth he leaped frantically to his feet. A frenzied shriek escap- ed his slavering jaws. Before any- one could stop him, he sprang like a wild beast at the encircling specta- tors. A man went down before his clawing nails. Trampling over a fallen women, he fought his mad- dened way thru the fleeing, frighten- ed crowd and giving one last tri- umphant cry he plunged into the neighboring wood. Chapter II. The very walls of the dingy, red alley seemed to- radiate heat. The acrid mixture of smoke, dust and automobile exhaust which the habit- ants of the fetid, stiffling, tenements lining the street breathed in lieu of air, left them gasping in agony like fishes stranded by the tide. Before the most rickety building lay a de- composing cat, overhung by a noisy cloud of repellant, black flies, who now and then buzzingly alighted on some trampled ash-heap to sun them- selves in the scanty rays which re- luctantly penetrated the narrow opening left by the leaning roofs. Presently, as dusk abated the pul- sating heat waves, doors opened in shadowy doorways and slowly dis- gorged their evening quota of dis- solute youths, who sauntered care- lessly toward the more populated thoroughfares on their nightly busi- ness. The door before which lay the efferescent feline, swung cautiously on squeaky hinges and a grotesque caricature of a man shambled out. A sticky, reddish, beard only made his high forehead maliginant by con- contrast. Wisps of brown hair, tinged with silver, straggled from under the brim of a tattered derby. His piercing eyes shot here and there with suspicious glances. With every passer-by he clutched more fiercely the newspaper-wrapped parcel he carried under one arm. He did not walk upright. Rather he slunk along the wall, half crouching, like a cat ready to spring upon his prey. In fact, with all of his intelli- gent face which his frowsy beard could not wholly disguise, he ap- peared with his leonine head, like a lion, degraded, emaciated, a pariah parading will tame tabbies, yet retaining some faint vestiges of king- ly qualities. The man avoided the frequented streets. He detoured the ghastly light of the sputtering arcs. Thru devious interlacing alleys he finally arrived at what was evidently his destination, a courtyard, to which he admitted himself thru a narrow, iron-bound door, which wafted a composite odor of cooking, sawdust, and tobacco before he disappeared. Chapter HI. Samuel Fitch, adventurer and wanderer extraordinary, sighed heav- ily as he finished the last soggy course of the gaudy Bohemian res- taurant. Bronzed, stern, his eyes burning with a steady, green magnet- ism, accentuated by the tiny sea wrinkles creasing their corners, he was a man to wonder at, this viking farer of the 20th century. He now pushed aside his chair, the better to gloomily survey the hetergeneous scattering of people dining noisily at neighboring tables, but he seemed preoccupied. His thought were cer- tainly elsewhere. ' ‘Wonder if old Dare is still clut- tering up that smelly lab,” he solilo- quized. “Might look him up if wasn’t for — well just the same it was hard to come back home to find the old gang gone — died or married; any- way, he was left out.” Suddenly he jerked to attention. Those eyes were familiar, strangely familiar. He surely knew their owner. They were like John’s eyes, John Dare, his brilliant chemist friend, who had married long ago, before he, Samuel, had begun his wanderings, the girl both loved. But it wasn’t Dare’s face. He had always been clean-shaven. This man’s jowls were covered by a red beard. Nor {Continued on page 22)

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