Le Roy Central School - O At Kan Yearbook (Le Roy, NY)

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Page Sixteen T H E R E D A N D B L A C K Commencement Number 33333333333 ooooo' 333333 0 O 333335 0 H LITERARY , 6300033300 The Tongues of'Flames ffnrst prize, And thus the strength of the Great One follows us tomorrow. Old Crow finished the legend. Not a sound came from the silent group of Indians, gazing into the distant marsh. Full well they knew the significance of the omen. Ages ago the G-reat Une had promised that this would be his sign of a successful attack. Tl1e tale. handed down thru' hundreds off years ran thus: Many, many moons ago, their ancestors, an insignificant tribe, were de- liberating concerning an attack 011 a neighboring race. According to their religion, supplications and prayers were ohiered. A terrilic storm ensued. Above the confusion, a calm, clear voice. commanding attention, was heard, Lol Behold my omen in yonder swamp. Go forth to battle when you perceive it. You will become a tribe mighty in war and peace. This is the reward of faith. I am the mighty. the benevolent, the God of Fire. With a great flash of lightening. all was still. The Indians. awed by the words, gazed into the swamp. Joyous, they beheld shooting tongues of flames. springing from the marsh. The following day, a successful attack was waged. Guided by the Great One, they made attacks. only after seeing the omen. Truly the prophecy was fulfilled for tl1e tiny group of Indians grew into a powerful tribe. Tonight, sitting around the campfire. they beheld the sign of their God. As the flames shot from the ground, the prophet retold the legend. Tomorrow. they would attack their enemy. A week later, confident. of success and trust- ing the God of Fire, a weary band, with hundreds of scalps dangling from their belts, returned. The Great One had not failed them. I wonder where they ever dug up that fairy tale. Such bunk! scornfully spoke Jack NVE-st. He was the center of a group of youths around eighteen. He was hold- ing a crumpled newspaper under the streetlight to read it more clearly. Bunk is right! Just as if flames could shoot up from a mudhole. Ye gods Z ejaculated Dick Wilson. his chum. I wonder why they ever printed it in the Sun. I dunno! Let's go down town. Nothing doing here, suggested another boy. The old legend forgotten, they moved 011. 1 They were all residents of the city of Blakesvllle. Centuries had passed since the redman had inhabited the place. The white man in his avarice for wealth and land had driven l1im into reservations. The city with a popu- 333333333 lation of twenty-five thousand had sprung up a mile from the remains of the swamp. The Sun , the Blakesville daily paper, had recently reprinted the old legend. It in- cited considerable comment at the time,4then was for- gotten. One night early in June. Jack a11d Dick started for a ride. Excitedly the former yelled, Dick, the swamp! Quick! Ye gods. a tire. Ag tire like that. You're crazy. It looks like tongues of Haines. Tongues of what? Oh the legend. the old Indian omen ! ,Dick looked bewildered. Are we dreaming or what? Jack rubbed his eyes and looked again. Sure enough the Hames were still there. Stepping on the starter. he headed for town. Ten minutes late1'. they had spread the news to the incredulous towns- people. A quarter of an hour later, the entire population was on the edge of the swamp. 'tl don't blame those Indians for being superstitious. It,'s ghostly, spoke Dick. Spooky? Say there is something fishy here, do you know it? Let's try to go out, responded'Jack. In spite of the protests of their elders. they started, followed by a band of the other fellows. Heavens it's muddy, Jack. Dtll1,t I know it? My poor shoes! Think we'll ever make it? Naw, do you? 'tJack, we will have to go back. I suppose so. regretfully. They look the same as they do from the edge. This su1'e is fishy. You mean muddy, don't you '? Q But Jack, pondering, was in no mood for jokes. On their reaching shore. the people gave a sigh of relief. No o11e could explain the phenomenon but all connected it with the legend. Slowly they sauntered, gossiping. back to town. The flames still darted high into the night but the air was damp a11d it was useless to stand and talk. I11 a few minutes. a general cry was heard. All parts of the city re- sounded with police alarms. It was discovered that the bank had been robbed. Shortly, similar reports from half the stores and scores of homes were sent to police head- quarters. The loss was up to hundreds of thousands of dollars. The force, vainly hunting for clues, was bailed.

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Commencement Number T H E R E D A N D B L A C K Page Fifteen Senior Crazy Day May 14. 1926 the Seniors had their Crazy Day. All in the Hall - Big Parude - Bally-hoo Man d Candy Kids - Senior tlmo1etto 4 Why 'Boys Leave Home - The Racketeersf' Junior Day The .luniors followed hot i11 pursuit May 20. 1926. f'arl U. t'ountryman from l'hicago - Gone a l'ourtin - Professional Dam-ing -and a t'ircus. A Peek into Study Hall in l9Z7 Well. it's just 8:35 a. 111. and I believe I'll take a peek into Study Hall and see what changes there are since 1926. The picture in the front still holds its corner. Yes, and there's the bell on the desk. I wonder if they still forget to take their seats on the hell ! Something is lacking tho'. I wonder what it is. Why. where's Hank Morris and his big grin: and Viola Barker? She surely must be there talking it over with Marian Kettle! What a loss they a-re! Surely Monk XVard is there shooting his eternal line tof girlsl to someone. I wonder what all the com- motion over in that north west corner is. What's that I hear? Bill Bradley and Mary Alice Kellogg have eloped! XVell. well. I always knew something would come from their escapades in Washington. It seems to me that Aggie Boylan ought to be ambling up the aisle about this time. Why. it's one minute to nine and where's Jimt1nie Mc- Guire. Is it possible that he isn't walking ill Study Hall with all his books under his arm? lVell. I want to go to the library so I must leave this familiar, and yet. strange and lacking picture., Dorothy I. Brooks, '27 To l927 Students! Stop! Look! Listen! Do you realize if it hadn't been for the present Seniors the Red and Black would not. be what it is! I,et's give tllelll a vote of thanks. Do you realize also that they will not be here next year and that we. who are Juniors now, will be the ones on whose shoulders the burden will fall? VVe can do it! XVe will do it! Let's go, Juniors! Marian Cass '27 Prizes for Story Contest First-Viola Barker- Tongues of Flame Second-George Barnard- The Annual Meet Third-Floyd Merritt- A Mystery Story Owing to lack of space we have found it necessary to omit a great deal of very good material. We. the staff of the Red and Black wish to thank you, Our Advertisers, Our Faculty, Mr. Perkins. and Hur Vlassmates for the support you've given us this year. and for your help ill making the. Red and Black. for the tirst time i11 its existence. a financial success. Marian Kettle lid. The Red and Black For the sake of those who do not know the history of the Red and Black, we are giving this short account. The paper was founded in 1921 by the pupils of L. H. S. 'llhe Iirst copy was in a newspaper form with eight pages. The rest of that year. it was published monthly in magaxine form. The next two years it was published at Christmas. Easter, and Commencement in the same form and seemed to be greatly enjoyed. At that time. however, the paper was greatly-1 ill debt so a new form less expensive was adopted. In 1924 a small four page newspaper was published monthly. At the end of the year the debt was almost half paid. The same type has been continued this year with the result that the debt is entirely paid and a substantial sum left to begin with next yea1'. Because of the success of the paper. the staff of this year has substituted :l magazine instead of the usual newspaper form for the June issue. Staff. Lost: Our Veteran Pilots The Seniors of 1927 will have to sustain great losses. materially. yet not financially. tAsk any of 'em.J We're going to lose some of our veteran pilots. Seniors of 1926. lltlllyl compliment yourselves yet,-the reference is in an- other direction. These captains of ours have steered us thus far. straight and bravely tvery bravely in fat-tl. and we wish that they might bring us to our goal. Without their cheery smiles and helping hands. we must finish our course in such a way that they may know that they have not labored in vain. tApologies to the Gettysburg Addressl. We oiter them our heantiest thanks and best wishes for success in whatever they may undertake. The Seniors of 1927

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Commencement Number T H E R E D .4 N D B L A C K Page Seventeen You know. Dick. that was sure a successful attack for someone. No Indian either! remarked Jack. Beats me. I'll bet a cookie it was a put up job. 0mens and those things died with Columbus. Some- boy knew those flames were coming, don't kid yourself. lVell. Jack. since we can't solve the problem, let's go for a sandwich. In they went to a light lunch room. Jack greeted the clerk and said. Give me a couple: hamburgs. Joe. Can't do it. West. No gas to' cook with. No what? Gas in this weather? You're dippy! The clerk turned the jet on. Look! There hasn't been any for two hours. V 1 ' The boys gulped a cheese sandwich down. then parted for the night. Around ten: o'clock the next morning, Jack headed for the swamp. The tire was gone but two men stood on tl1e edge of the mire. He recognized one as the chief of police who, seeing him. yelled. Here he is now! Hey, West. Jack walked over and was introduced to the stranger who happened to be a detective from the New York Pro- tective Agency. The chief related to the detective. Mr. Thomas, This is tl1e lad who discovered tl1e 'tongues of flames' He can probably tell you more about it than I H know. Uverwhehned. the lad complied. relating the discovery again. Thomas. pondering deeply. murmured to himself, A iire. that means fuel. Coal-wood-no l . .lack jumped! Gas. gas, could it be gas? The very thing. why do you ask that, young man? Jack continued, explaining the lack of gas the night before. The detective looked interested. It could hardly be a big concern like a gas company yet maybe a dishonest employee! Rig money at stake. Then he hurried to explain that the fire was probably a method of enticing the townspeople from their homes. See here. boy. do you think we can get out there? Jack pondered a minute. Some guys and I went over half way last night. Then we had to come back because we hadgood clothes on. Maybe in old togs and with a lot of planks. we could make it. The detective approved. They hurried back to town to dress. Several hours later. muddy and dirty, they stoo-d in the midst of the mud hole. Nothing but a spot, d1'ier and blacker than the nest greeted them. Jack and Thomas both inhaled deeply. then' simultaneously cried, Gas The detective, kicking the ground. addressed his com- panion. I'll guarantee. if we dug down, we would find a series of pipes which caused the mysterious 'tongues of iiames.' Then. turning about he began the laborious jour- yn ney back. He went directly to the gas otlice a11d ordered a survey of the pipes. Then he went to the depot to meet a scientist he had telegraphed. The latter could give no explanation of the flames. In a larger swamp. enough, marsh gas might acculnmulate but not in that tiny one. Jack. mindful of the legend, looked up. If it were three or four timesins big? Possibly! Why? Jar-k retold once more the tale. The scientist looked interested and said. Probably once marsh gas caught on lire. giving rise to the Indians' tale. Remember. my boy, they are a superstitious and imaginative race. His services no longer needed. he took the next train home. Meanwhile. the gas company reported an immense pipe leading off the main line into the marsh. Its con- struction thru' the mud was unexplainable to them. A great shut oif near the main line regulated the pressure. And who might have done this? questioned Mr. Thomas. Jim Arnold. acting manager in the prolonged absence of the real otlicial. a Mr. Jones. finally answered, I am sure I do not know. All of our men are trustworthy and have been in our employment for a long time. But I tired a couple of men last winter because I found they had tam- pered with the lines. Securing their names. the detective went to examine thd pipes. He took several linger prints from the shut-off. ordering those of the two fired men and all the gas em- ployees. A The report came back the next day, none conforming to the blurred ones on the shut-off. He took Jack with him the next morning. They were gone several hours but finally returned in the lad's cab, hearing the lost booty with them. The townspeople gasped. as did the local police. Since Mr. Thomas offered no ex- planation. they waited eagerly for developments. Say. Dick. I bet you can lnever guess where we found the booty? Jack questioned. 'No-. where? I'm burning with curiosity. Sh-sh. Mr. Arnold's house. Ml: Arnold! Bewilderment spread over his face. He never originated that clever scheme. All he knows is - .197 gas. I know it! But we found it there. Mr. Thomas is baffled, too. They parted. Mr. Thomas. cabling the absent gas manager. Mr. Jones. waited quietly. Mr. Arnold was ar- rested in spite of his protest. He refused to speak and declared all ignorance of the gas pipe. Finallyjthe answer came to the cablegram. The detective immediately sent a group of diggers to the heart of the swamp. A broken gas lihe was found. The pipe was blow11 to pieces, indicating an explosion. but there was no gas leaking at the time. Aw, Mr. Thomas, tell 1119 what you know, beggfd Jack. The man smiled a11d began his tale. The pipe has been laid for years. Blakesville once supplied the old factory beyond the swamp with gas. The pipe, placed in dry weather thru' the marsh. were iitted with a shut-otf when the plant closed. Then it was forgotten. The ac- cummulated gas i11 pipes. after a dozen years. exploded, producing your mysterious 'tongues of flames' Arnold. evidently as much amazed as you. sensed the signal of Il 'successful attack' and acted. There it is all solved. He will be convicted?