Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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26 THE ECHO Arriving at the car, they entered and sank wearily on the soft cushions of the car seat. “Tired?” asked Bill. “I’m tired,” she replied, “but I ' m happy. I was never so happy before in my life. ’ Following this was a few minutes’ inter- val of silence. “Do you know,” she said, “I’d like to come out here again — next week.” Emory H. Mann, ’32. SER GEANT WHITE The low dull drone of an aeroplane reached the ears of a small band of rustlers hidden deep in the Canadian Rocky Moun- tains. As aeroplanes were so seldom seen in that part of the country, the men hastened to a small clearing in the woods and gazed sky-ward. There in the sky just above them soared a monoplane. Something was wrong! That could be seen in an instant. Lower and lower came the plane, the X-44, with its motor kicking and sputtering. In another moment it soared upwards, and then it went into a vertical dive, and then the plane dis- appeared behind the huge trees. A moment later a loud crash sounded over the Rockies. “Come on, fellows, we’ve got to get that aviator out of that wreck,” shouted Spud as he started for the plane. “Just a minute,” cried a voice. Everyone stopped short in his tracks. “See who he is first. If he is a Royal Mounted, let him die. If he isn’t one of them, save him,” said Joe Black, “El Capi- tan,” leader of the biggest gang of rustlers in Canada. “If you save him, let him think that we are getting out lumber from these woods. Our big lumber mill will prove that to him. As for our numerous head of cattle, tell him we need it for beef to feed our men.” The men pushed forward and soon ar- rived in the small hollow where the plane was thought to have landed. Yes, sir, there she was blazing like fury. There standing with a doeful look on his face watching her burn was a young man. “M-m-my sh-ship is b-burning up,,” stam- mered he, giving the men a sorrowful look. “It isn’t m-m-mine. Wh-what will I d-do n-n-now?” “Anything, anything,” cried El Captain. “What’s your name?” “M-my n-name is T-Tom Atwood Wh- Wh-White,” replied the young man. “How am I g-g-going to g-get out of these b-b-big woods?” “You’ll get out soon — when we take you out,” explained Joe. “That won’t be until the middle of the next month when we go down to Deighton for supplies. This is a lumber camp, and we can’t afford to lose time by taking all the ‘birds’ that drop from the sky back to civilization.” “Wh-wh-what you s-say g-g-goes for m-me,” replied Tom with a stupid grin. “G-g-got anything to eat? G-gee, I’m near- ly st-starved.” “Take him to the mess hall, Bill,” called Joe to one of the men. “See that he gets plenty to fill him up. I’ll see you later, Thomas.” Joe Black turned and walked away while the stupid youth was pushed toward the mess hall. This was the arrival of Sergeant Thomas Atwood White in the rustlers’ camp. He claimed that it was Lady Luck that had led him straight to the rustlers’ camp that he was hunting for. As the time went on, that “stupid” Tommy became the handy fellow about the camp. If they wanted kindling wood, it was Tom- my who got it. Tommy never forgot that he was a stupid person, in fact, if anyone had not taken it for granted that he was dull as he looked and had watched him close- ly, they might have said that he carried his stuttering and stammering too far, but no one bothered to watch him. A little later he was allowed to join in some of the deals that the gang was carry- ing on. By this time he had (supposedly) stumbled on that fact that it wasn’t only lumber that the leader Joe, and the men were interested in. That first month he had gone to town with Bill in order to catch the train home, but he missed the only train home, but he missed the only train (not accidently as it seemed). So a few months later he was looked upon as a full fledged member of the gang. He now went to Deighton alone for supplies, and he was well known by the people of that little town who made all manner of fun of him. Needless to say, he didn’t mind it in the least. It was on one of these trips to town that he pondered the question, how am I to get out of this? “Well,” he said to himself, “Chance got me in this, and now I’ll wait for chance to get me out.” Upon his arrival in town he went immedi- ately to the store and called to the keeper, “P-p-put up t-the u-usual th-things, D-dad P-p-parson.” He then turned and went into the street. “How in the dickens can I report to the Chief,” he muttered to himself as he crossed the street toward the railroad station. “Well, Tommy, you’ve got to get word to him some way that you are right in the center of things up here. Oh, I b-b-beg m-my p-pardon.” This last was said to someone into whom he had walked. Ah, in his pocket was a bit of paper. This was its message: “We are ready when you are.” Signed, Captain Tilden. They were there. Glancing about him he could see many of his comrades in plain clothes. They had been enjoying themselves at his expense. After getting his supplies from the store, he stepped into the wagon. Slowly he left the town followed by one or two wagons which didn’t seem to anyone to be following him. He arrived in camp a few moments ahead of the other wagons, and as it was noon hour, the men were all gathered about the

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