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Page 19 text:
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THE ECHO 17 ON THE DEEP Tom Weston and Molly Burbank stood on the wharf in the harbor at Portland, Maine. The sun was just setting and re- flected brilliantly on the ocean, but far in the east there were dark, dubious looking clouds. Molly was waiting for the boat that was going to Boston. “Molly,” said Tom earnestly, “you shouldn’t go on the boat tonight; there’s going to be a storm. Don’t you see those dark clouds over there?” Tom was a coast-guard and was well- versed in the ways of the sea and the sea- weather. Therefore, knowing what the weather would be that night, he was much concerned about the welfare of his sweet- heart. “Oh, Tom,” answered Molly, “I don’t think there’s any danger. See how red the sun is setting. I’m sure it will be calm to- night.” in the distance the shrill whistle of the steam-ship “Majestic” could be heard. “Molly,” pleaded Tom, “the storm is sure to break just when the ship is nearing the Benton Rocks, and it will be stranded on them, if not dashed to pieces.” “iion’t spoil my trip by saying things like that, Tom,” she answered, “I’m not afraid to go, and I’m sure everything will be all right.” The boat was at the dock now, and people were coming and going from it. “Goodby, Tom,” Molly said, “I’m coming back on the boat tomorrow, and then you’ll see I’m all right.” “Goodby, Molly,” he answered, “and good luck.” He stood on the pier and watched the boat until it was out of sight; then he turned and walked slowly along the shore. Perhaps he had made a mistake in his reck- oning of the weather. He sincerely hoped so. The sun sank in a blaze of light, the sky became a leaden gray, and a cool breeze began to blow, but he paced up and d own the beach, not knowing what else to do. Finally he went to the radio station on the beach, that kept in touch with the ships. The weather report was uncertain, so he decided to read during the evening, to take his mind off other things. About ten o’clock the wind began to blow stronger, and a little later the rain started. Then came lightning and thunder. A few minutes later the radio operator called Tom and said: “We just got a call from the ‘Majestic’. The boat is stranded on Benton Rocks. It got tossed there by the high seas, and they want help. We’ll have to sent out lifeboats. You round up the crew, Tom, and tell them to get the boats ready.” Nearly all the crew were near the sta- tion, so they made quick work of getting the lifeboats ready. The storm was at its height now. The waves dashed perilously high as they pushed the boats out into the ocean, and headed in the direction of the ship. Meanwhile, on the “Majestic” everything was in a turmoil. The ship was on the rocks, and there were no signs of its be- ing got off very soon. Most of the people were nervous and frightened, but a few were fairly calm. Molly was trying to ap- pear thus as she stood among the others who were clustered about Captain Tracy, asking him all manner of questions: “Was there much danger? Would they be res- cued? How much longer would the storm last?” “Captain Tracy,” said Molly, “have you been able to get any help ” “Yes,” he answered, “we sent out a radio message and help is being sent from Port- land.” Portland! thought Molly. Would she ever see it again. Why hadn’t she done as Tom had said. She might have known he would be right. What if he was among the crew who were coming to aid them, and was at that very moment risking his life in the tossing waves. Tom and the crew were, at that very moment, battling the huge waves that broke high above their heads, and threat- ened every minute to capsize the boats. “We must be quite near the ship, now,” yelled Tom, above the roar of the ocean, to the man nearest him. In a few minutes they could see faintly the lights on the ship. Captain Tracy was throwing searchlights on the water, and as soon as he saw the crew, he set his men to work making arrangements for the pas- sengers to get to the boats. The storm had abated now, leaving only a steady rain, and the sea was much calm- er. This made the work of transferring the passengers much easier. The women and children were first. Molly happened to be put in the boat Tom was in, but he had no time to speak to her. When the boats were filled, they started the return trip. It was made in quick time, as there was little danger, now that the sea was calmer. “What a situation,” thought Molly, “a few hours ago I left the harbor very peace- fully, and look at the way I’m returning to it. Why didn’t I do as Tom asked me to?” The boats had reached the dock now. The passengers were going to a nearby hotel, where they could stay until morning. Molly went to her home, but she could not see Tom then, as he was going to return to the ship to get the men. Tom and the crew then returned and got the men. They had saved all the passengers and crew on the boat, and planned to go the next day and pull the ship off the rocks. When he returned to the harbor, Tom was rewarded for his bravery in aiding the stranded ship.
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16 THE ECHO as Chummy roused from his stupor, launched himself against the intruder. The door gave way and the thief fell headlong into the stall to be met with a terrific ham- mering from the flying feet of the black. The vivid light flaming into his window aroused Tom out of a sound sleep. Fire! The stable! The colt! These thoughts flashed through his mind as he plunged into his clothes and out of the door. By this time the stable was a mass of flames, and Tom could hear the whinnying of the colt as he raced back and forth in the stable. The boys on the ranch were run- ning from all directions, and the pop-pop of guns could be heard over the shouts of men and burning timbers. One heavy shove of the stable door, and Tom was within the blazing furnace and had reached the stall. Circling the flying feet with Chummy press- ing close to him, he blanketed the head of the frightened horse and coaxing, pleading, commanding, led him from the burning building. The week passed quickly. Quiet and kind- ness had brought the colt back to normal condition, and the day of the race was at hand. Bright colors, gay music, glistening coats of the racers, the creaking of leather, everywhere, merriment and happy faces. Tom, keyed to the highest point, kept be- side his horse, soothing and talking as the black restlessly pawed the earth. Billie, the little jockey, clung to his back watch- ing every move with his black bead-like eyes. The clanging bell from the judge’s stand brought them all together at the line, and after several false starts the race was on. Gaining the pole, the black held her posi- tion and horse and jockey in perfect team work nulled off the greatest race that Bodes had ever seen — three straight heats with hardly even turning a hair. That night in the living room of the ranch three hanpy neople sat in silence be- fore the huge fireplace as the leaping flames quickly consumed the cancelled mortgage. “My son.” said Mrs. Webster, turning to Tom with tears in her eyes, “for you shall be my son from now on, you can now face the world without fear, for one of the wounded raiders who was brought here the night of the fire has told that it was your brother who committed that train robbery for which you were sentenced. Your brother perished in the barn, and this man ad a written confession which he was hold- ing over him. A straight road lies ahead of you now, for you have won the road to all hearts.” “Yes,” answered Tom softly, “a lonesome road, but somehow, no matter how lone- some there are always the bright spots to cheer one on.” Myron Holbrook, THE ENSIGN’S ESCAPE Ensign Robert Grey, U. S. N., had been entrusted with an important message from the captain of his ship, the “Nevada”, which was in Shanghai harbor, to the American Consul in that city. As he rode through the crooked streets in the riksha which he had hired, he happened to notice that he was being followed by another vehicle of the same kind, in which sat a Chinaman in mandarin’s costume. However, he paid little attention to this, and arrived safely at the consulate, where he delivered his message. Coming out of the building he was surprised to find his riksha gone! At first he was undecided as to what he could do, but as there was no other way, he decided to walk; so he started out trying to remember the way by which he had come, and walked until he reached a Chinese shop. When he was almost opposite the door, two shots were fired from across the street, both missing him, but coming unpleasantly close. He hastily dodged into the shop, where the proprietor, a wizened old Chinaman, regarded him in apparent surprise. Grey told why he had come in so unceremoniously, and the old man, without questioning, pointed to a door at the back of the shop, and muttered, “Hide there, quick.” The ensign opened the door and went in- to a dark hallway; all that could be seen was a flight of rickety stairs going down. He descended, and found himself in a base- ment with nothing in it but several hideous Chinese idols, which he guessed to be part of the proprietor’s stock. Suddenly he beard a faint click above him, as if the door had been locked. Running up the stairs, he tried the door, and found it locked. He was a prisoner in the cellar of a Chinese shop. For perhaps an hour he remained there, trying without success to find a way out; then the door opened, and the mandarin r hom he had seen following him entered, followed by two coolies. To his surprise, the Chinaman addressed him in English. “I want to know what that message to the consul contained.” he said. “I don’t know, and I wouldn’t tell you if I did.” replied Grey. “We’ll see about that.” answered the mandarin. “Make him talk, boys.” The two coolies sprang at Grey, but he grabbed an idol and hit one, tripping the other with his foot. Then he threw the idol at the mandarin, hitting him in the stomach and bowling him over. Then he rushed up the stairs, through the door, which had been left unlocked, and out of the shop. He returned to the ship without any further mishap. Norman A. Smith, ’32. Penny: “What does M. D. mean?” El. Sears (thinking fast): “Mentally de- ficient.”
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18 THE ECHO The next day he called on Molly. “Oh, Tom,” she cried when she saw him, “can you ever excuse my being so foolish as not to listen to you last night?” “Forget it, Molly,” he answered, “I got the thrill of knowing I was fighting those waves to save you, anyway.” Pauline Blanchard, ’30. JUNE’S TRIP June busied herself getting ready to go to Lake Placid with some of her college friends for the winter sports. She had been planning and packing- things in pre- paring for the trip for the last few days. June was a very attractive and lovable girl with bright golden hair and dancing brown eyes, the petted daughter of wealthy parents, who had everything she wanted; but this time they seemed strangely un- willing to let her go. June finally received their reluctant permission, and prepared to enjoy the thrills of having her own way. A little hesitation, and maybe a twinge of conscience came to her mind, but with vis- ions of pleasure ahead, she continued her preparations. At last the day came, and after a hasty and smiling departure, June and her friends boarded the train. After a few hours riding through wonderful scenery and amid light laughter, they finally reached Lake Placid. There was not a moment to be lost. The girls went skiing, while the boys chose to play hockey, and their fun continued until dinner. After a happily spent afternoon the girls went to dream of the pleasant times they would have tomorrow. The day dawned clear and crisp, and June and her friends were so enthusiastic that they were up and around long before the other young people. June had never had much experience in tobogganing, so she turned her attention to that. Once down and she knew that this was the sport she would enjoy. She disliked the thought of stopping to eat, but she must. As she was thinking of her good time and of the sliding the next morning, she started in a quick run up the steps of the hotel piazza, when in some way her ankle snapped, caus- ing severe pain and swelling. A sprained ankle at a sport center where she had come to have a good time! “If I had to do some- thing, why couldn’t it have been something different than an old sprained ankle,” said June to the girls, “ It would have been real fun to have tipped off the toboggan, and lain unconscious for hours, and then to be rescued, but to have to slip on some steps.” As June limped slowly and painfully in- to her little apartment, she wished she had stayed at home as her parents had wanted her to. Adrienne MacMurray, ’32. “REPORTER’S LUCK” On a cold, windy day, a merry, well- dressed young- fellow, in a dark blue suit, soft gray hat, and a gray overcoat, turned into a cheap boarding house in the slums of Chicago, and whistled merrily as he thought of the good fortune which was his that day. Running up the stairs he burst into the room saying, “Listen, mother, I’ve been appointed to attend the Sylvester Ball, for our newspaper. Isn’t that wonderful luck?” “That’s fine, my son. Someday you will surely become a fine editor,” said the little, kind lady who was sitting where she, a cripple, had sat for several years, in a chair by the window. “Today,” she said, “I tried to think of something you might write for your paper to make them realize your value, but now you have your chance, and I’m sure you will succeed.” The next evening Lyle went to the Syl- vester Ball, thinking only of writing a suc- cessful story. Showing his pass, he was admitted. Everyone was making merry. The young people were dancing while their parents introduced new friends and con- gratulated their hostess. Richard stared at the hostess. An attractive, sparkling girl, with black hair and very dark eyes, and gorgeously dressed, was receiving compli- ments with an easy grace from her guests. “This must be Rose Sylvester,” thought Richard. As the evening progressed, he noticed that Miss Sylvester was not pres- ent. Wondering about this, he was alarmed to hear a cry “Fire!” The guests rushed for the only plausible exit, the side door. Richard started to follow when he heard a feeble cry of “Jackson”, coming from the library. Rushing to it, he found it was filled with smoke, and he was forced to go back. He stripped off his coat and put it over his head. When he was just inside he fell over something. A person! He picked up the person and rushed to the re- ception hall. Half blinded by smoke, he stumbled to the side door. Welcome hands aided him and relieved him of his burden. When he was revived, he was told he had rescued Rose Sylvester. Richard’s story for his paper, being per- sonal experience, received much praise from all the critics and his own editor-in- chief. Richard was summoned to the office and notified of a promotion which he had long anticipated. Because of his fine ac- count, he was made assistant editor-in- chief. But this was not the only reward he received. Toward the middle of the afternoon he was given a note asking him if he would please visit Miss Sylvester at her new apartment; this he proceeded to do that night. He was properly announced and was received with great enthusiasm. “I don’t know how to thank vou, Mr. Lyle, for your splendid act,” said Rose. “Father suggests that we give you money, but I felt this would be an insult.”
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