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Page 17 text:
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The Fateful Hour' By Gertrude Bergey, IVC WILIGHT was falling in Berlin when Anne Carter stealthily approached a dingy house on Friedrich Strasse. Nimbly and quickly she mounted the steps and opened the door num- bered l3. In her haste, she almost collided with a handsome young Englishman, Captain Anthony Cambridge, who, like herself, was a member of the Intelligence Department of the British Government in the pre-war days of 1914 and had been her partner in many a tight corner. My aunt, muttered Tony. You don't believe in frightening people, do you? On the contrary, Anne retorted, I just adore it. But, seriously, Tony, tonight is our last chance. Count Heinrich von Arn- heim has the submarine plans at his apartment. What's your plan of campaign? Could this 'umble person be of any 'elp to the brilliant Anne? Well, replied Anne, banteringly, this time I'm afraid I shall have to accept your modest offer. Then in a brisk, business-like tone, she continued, Last night Heinrich proposed to me and I accepted temporarily. I am to visit his apartment tonight to see if I like it. That will give me a chance to look for the plans. I can attend to him myself, but to you, my fellow conspirator, I shall have to leave the butler and a method for my quick get-away. Phewl Tony whistled. lust imagine Captain Anthony Cambridge of His Maiesty's Imperial Army condescending to remove a butler from anybody's path. You'll do just as I say or I shan't be nice to you, Anne retorted. Be at the Wilhelm Apart- ments at eight o'clock, but don't murder the butler until I arrive. Auf wiedersehen, Tony! Outside again, Anne glanced furtively around and, seeing no one, flitted down a side street and doubled back to one of the main thoroughfares. There she hailed a passing cab and gave the address of the apartments in a fashionable quarter of the city. With a little sigh she sank back in 18 the shadows to regain her composure. A few minutes later she was strolling naively down the lobby of the Wilhelm Apartments, even pausing to fix a stray curl before she entered the ascend- ing elevator. Count von Arnheim's butler ushered Anne into a small drawing-room and announced that his master was in conference in the library, from which came the hum of low voices. Taking in the room with one sharp glance, Anne carelessly chose a seat beside a hot air register, for she surmised that this would connect the two rooms. She pretended to read but at the same time was straining her ears to catch every sound. Sud- denly came the clear guttural German tones, I shall return tonight at l2:3U. The front door closed softly and a few minutes later the tall Prussian nobleman entered. Guten Abend, my dear, he greeted her. How do you like the flat? It's adorable, Anne cried, but could you get me something to drink? I'm bone-dry! Certainly, he answered, and rang for the butler. As there was no response, he went out to investigate, leaving on the table two glasses containing a little soda water. This was Anne's chance. Quickly she slipped some white powder into one glass and held the other in her hand. Confound that butler, exclaimed the count when he returned, I can't find him anywhere, but here is what we need. Deftly he filled the glasses, picked up the one on the tray and drained it. That tasted a little bitter, the count observed. lust your imagination, Anne hastily rejoined. Mine was excellent. Now, let's look around. Anne lingered in each room, apparently to in- spect the minute details. By the time they reached the living-room again, the count was apparently quite drowsy and soon dropped off to sleep in an easy chair. tContinued on page 681
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Page 16 text:
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Our Crest By Barbar Kains, VB. ,Z l 4,41 5 ,4 l T . ff ' 4 .05 X- Q3 The South shield is as impressive in meaning as it is in appearance. The beauty of the design is credited to the fine workmanship of Mr. I. S. cation. The inspiring motto was worked out by Mr. Burns, of our teaching staff. Virtus repulsae nescia sordidae may be literally translated Courage ignorant of base de- feat. Qur translation might then be explained as: the ability to endure suffering and hardships makes inglorious defeat impossible. Vifhen we realize the full meaning of the words, they should become a source of inspiration. The athlete in the righthand corner suggests energy, stamina, and the power to conquer in the race of life. The open book represents the wealth of learning to be gained by all searchers of knowl- edge. The lighted lamp typifies the inner glow of beauty, truth, and goodness. The royal crown and the national emblem about the shield form a patriotic setting. Perhaps the elusive attribute known as school spirit may be explained by the proper interpre' tation of the crest exemplifying, as it does, courage Barnard, a former chairman of the Board of Edu- as applied to every phase of school life. Short Story Winners Dear Mrs. Carr-Harris: It was a pleasure to read the stories of South Collegiate again. There were so many intriguing hints of good work to be done on and on in the future. I was im- pressed with the bits of humor, the sturdiness of attitude in standing up to life's possible difficulties, the sus- tained clarity of style, the evident necessary perceptive- ness in small details of writers-in-the-making. And as always, knew a wistfulness and belief in all they may attain. My first choice is THE FATEFUL HOUR by Gertrude Bergey, delightfully nonchalant and smooth in its handling of suspense and intrigue. Second choice is LIKE FATHER by N. Grant Dor- land, marked by good conflict well done in the so-very- popular sportmindedness of the hour. Third choice is YES SIR, THAT'S MY BABY by Wilfred Dicks, very well done in its pleasantly funny and individually light vein. tCouldn't Canadian University names be supplied for a Canadian magazine?J There is a quality of fineness and understanding back of the little sketch MANKIND'S BEST FRIEND - THE DOG, which makes me wish it could have its small corner in The Oracle, perhaps because I love a little dog just the same way and then some. With a little trimming it is valuable, don't you think, as a miniature sketch? Appreciating the honor of choosing the prize stories and wishing every one who contributed increased interest, inspiration and industry for really marked success in their writing, Sincerely, AMY E. THORBURN. 17
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Page 18 text:
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Ramjee's Revenge By Christian Jensen VB. AS RAMIEE was a native Indian, a profes- sional tiger hunter and a dead shot. Only yesterday his employer, the Watson sahib of the American Movies Co., had called him a dog and threatened to whip him for trying to steal one of his horses. The Indians anger had been aroused: he was intent on vengeance. This night the moon flooded the sandy plain with its cold, frosty light. Ras Ramjee's lithe, stooping form glided noiselessly among the sparse shrubbery, the moonlight glinting on his heavy hunting rifle. At last he came to a large grey rock completely surrounded by small plants and bushes. There he stopped and waited. He knew well the habits of the Englishman. lt was Watson's custom to take a short walk through the surrounding fields just before turning in for the night. Tonight he would be sure to come in order to admire the moonlit plain. Piamjee, his nerves tense but his brain cool, could already dimly discern the figure of his master. Once more he examined the chamber of his gun to make sure there could be no mishap. Then, satisfied that all was Well, he slid the black barrel noiselessly over the rock and waited. By this time Watson's tall white-clad figure stood out clearly against the moonlit background. When he was only 200 yards away the lndian took careful aim, a smile of triumph on his lips. At this distance, a man of his profession could front sight stood boldly in the centre of his vic- tim's white jacket he fired. There was a flash of flame and a report like the crack of a whip. The tall figure stumbled, fell, and lay lifeless on the sand. Exultantly Ramjee slipped back to the house of which he now was the only occupant. Pleased with his success, he soon went to sleep and did not waken till late the next morning. Almost as soon as he was up he was surprised by a loud knocking at the front door. He opened it and there confronting him was a man in the uniform of the lndian Police. His astonishment was great when this man arrested him for the murder of Watson, and took him to the railway station where they boarded a train bound for Karachi, where the divisional headquarters of the police was situated. All night he sat in his cell and thought. He was sure that they could not find him guilty for had he not been clever enough to empty the chamber of his gun and clean it? He was also certain that they could not find the bullet, which would leave no trace in the sand. At the same time, two officers were having a lively conversation in a nearby office. They were the superintendent of that section and the man who had arrested Ramiee. l don't see how we can possibly prove any- thing on this felloW, said the former. We have no evidence of any kind. tContinued on page Stll A Captive Eagle I would that I could soar the sky - Upon un ettered pinions. - yyx A A ' That keeps me from dominions 5 T if 'V O'er which I've reignedg from which, obtained V My daily toll, my living. . I 5 Though I was chained, my soul remained -I 'A ',-'T Where I was born. The craving Us I . si I would defy the only tie 'K 5.43 '1 To sail on high before I die, not miss such a target. When the bead of his :Llc X i f 1 X N To hunt once in the forest, I don't denyg I Want to fly Till reap'd in Nature's Harvest. N -Robert Calvert, V A. 19
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